Legends of the Treasure Child : Demon Spawn

It was late evening when the treasure was safely on board. The crew had swapped shifts, and those who were off duty, enjoyed dinner down in the mess, drying up after the toil of releasing the treasure from the grip of the sea. It was the second time they’d really used it, almost entirely without captain Sparrow’s help.
John had insisted upon using Will’s newest invention – a wooden arm reinforced with iron plates on the sides. The invention was based on the same principal used when fetching a bucket of water from a well, only the spool itself was attached to the wooden construction which reached a few meters outside the railing, Then two wheel were attached closely to each other, one with a lever which stopped them from spinning in the opposite direction. It served as a safety in case the crewmen were forced to let go off the rope, and the device would effectively jam the rope until they could pull it again. John wanted this device installed partly because he feared what might happen if he stayed away from Jack for too long. And lessened the burden. He simply have to arrange the sack which was attached to the end of the rope, put the treasure on top of the canvas which was reinforced with iron wires developed by Will. They formed the likes of a fish net, and then the canvas was fastened to the iron net so it would remain in place. Once it was all there, John simply pulled the rope, tightened the four ends of the canvas around the grappling hook, and the crew started heaving it upwards. It allowed for John to return faster, and he saved his strength in case of an emergency. An emergency with Jack.
Only in the depths of the sea, did John relax. There, where no one but the mermaids, the fish and the sea demons could see him, did he let go, though he did not do so for very long. His father’s health came first, and John’s entire chain of thought these days evolved around Jack, Jack, Jack. John found himself torn between keeping his father safe from harm and the demon blood which was boiling in John’s veins. He longed to be onboard the Crimson Lotus again, where he could behave as he pleased without consequence, without worry. But if he wanted to do the right thing, he’d have to wait. At least some years until the twins evolved, and could care for their father in his stead. Jack wasn’t a burden, but it was the fact that there were so many things John wanted to do, to experience in this world – so many priests to be had. No, John had to behave, to be a good boy a while longer. Suppressing the evil in him, the wildness which urged him to wreak havoc upon men and women of the world, to conjure up disasters and to destroy entire countries with meteor showers and build castles of the bones of men, was something he’d have to do for a few years more. But not forever. John felt it more and more, like a never-ending tingle beneath his skin. He’d seen the past of the Treasure Children, seen them walk the face of the world, roaming the ancient cities, destroying empires with their powers. The last Treasure Child had consciously perverted the minds of men and women with greed, until the people had gone on a rampage, wiping out themselves, destroying entire cities. Now, there were nothing left of those beautiful Aztec civilizations.
He held the fate of Men in his palm, and knowing the devils played for control of these powers, he felt that the only aspect which made sense, was Jack and his life at sea as a pirate. Jack had, in his past, wanted riches. Gold had always been on Jack’s mind. Now, Jack had strayed from that path – had made other priorities. Because of Jack – John held back. Because of Jack, John strived to stay human, shaping himself in the image of Jack Sparrow. And Jack Sparrow would not, in contradiction to John’s darkest dreams, feed of the crew of the Black Pearl. He would not skulk downstairs to their sleeping quarters at night and choose himself a victim to feast on, to drink his blood and rape him out of his mind. The crew would not find a dead man in the morning, and fear would not fester in their hearts. Paranoia would not seize them and he would not take them, one by one each night until there was none left, and then—! John had snapped out of it. Give it a break, let it rest. Looking into Mr. Gibb’s eyes was becoming increasingly difficult because of such thoughts. Time would come when John would need to vent these emotions which threatened to rip him to pieces. John’s birth had set the wheel of fortune spinning. He could see Jack’s kin in the future – strong demon spawn – countless in numbers, all with Jack’s traits, all benefitting from his love for them. John would be allowed a life of his own. For Jack saw many take his place next to Jack, he saw someone. His name was Jacob. And he would rule in John’s absence. He’d be there for Jack. He could not see Daniel and Nathaniel. Strange. What did that mean? He did not know, only that their magicks were beyond this world. They were not meant to exist on this plane, and he sensed that they would not participate that much in keeping Jack safe. They were meant to have other tasks. And then this threat. In a distant future. It was hidden, and vague. Not meant to be revealed. It could be the end. It would be stronger than their forces combined. Stronger than the Thyrion. Stronger than John.
John had forced himself to dine with the crew. He’d sent Mr. Gibbs to attend to Jack, so he might have some company other than John. Not having that buffer which Mr. Gibbs had become, made the crew visibly nervous. That is, the native crew of the Black Pearl, Marty especially, Ragetti, Pintel, Twigg and Mr. Cotton went easy about it. They’d accepted John a long time ago and were pretty used to odd situations, but the younger and more inexperienced members – boys from the age of eighteen and up to twenty four who’d enrolled at the docks in London, the Netherlands and in Norway – either forgot themselves and stared in wonder and awe at John and his spectacular eyes, or they stared at their food, obviously having difficulties with his presence. John had seated himself in the high chair at the end of the table which was usually reserved for Jack. And when Jack attended, John would sit at his right side, on the long bench along with the rest of the crew, showing obedience and respect towards his father. It usually calmed the young sailors, but he could not ignore their fears. Attempting to establish trust was a purely egotistical action. He needed them to like him so they’d like Jack. He’d spent many a meal with them not saying a word, but reading their minds, mapping their affinities in order to know if they could be trusted. He knew the young ones were struggling to conform. They’d enrolled, some knowing some vague story about the Black Pearl and lots of treasures, but none really expected to know someone like John. Some now prayed to Jesus on a daily basis, praying for their souls. The more they prayed, the more John wanted to go to them at night and pour over them, shag them senseless and drink their fear. He wanted to fuck them so badly he sometimes at night wandered restlessly back and forth across the deck, drinking on a bottle of rum while he gazed at the black horizon, looking for something he could not name all the while humming on ‘yo ho a pirates life for me’, not really knowing where he’d learnt it. He needed release. Release from desire, from lust, from all emotions which threatened to drag him down into the black abyss swirling beneath the keel of the Pearl. Being the vortex of evil was tiresome. Downright frustrating.
John smiled politely at the two young men sitting on the left side of the table. Their heads were cocked together in quiet conversation, glancing often to where John was sitting, and he didn’t have to peak mentally in at the conversation to understand that it was about him. Their names were Einar and Jan, or Ian, as the British ones pronounced his name. Jan was a Dane who’d enrolled in Amsterdam, while Einar was from the coast city Bergen in Norway. Einar had a German father and Norwegian mother, and he spoke both languages fluently. Once Einar and Jan realized their close relationship in terms on nationality and the fact that they both spoke German, they had quickly teamed up together. Einar was nineteen, while Jan was twenty-one. Their Norse appearance, blonde-haired as they were, with big blue eyes and pale skin, made them stand out from the weathered crowd of the more experienced crewmembers. They used the German language when speaking about secret things – especially things concerning John Sparrow, and they were now discussing Norse Viking legends to see if they could place John in one of them in an attempt to identify what he was. John pretended not to listen so they wouldn’t understand that he understood every word they spoke. He almost choked on his mouthful of rum when he heard them talk about Ægir, probably the eldest of the Norse gods. The very name of the old God of the sea, sent shivers down his spine, and he had to focus on not crushing the glass in his hand. Jan caught him staring at them, and he nudged at Einar, nodding towards John’s glass. One by one, they all stopped to stare amazed at the glass. Along with the rum inside, it had turned into solid gold. Upon realizing his mistake, John locked eyes with Einar and sent the golden cup shuffling along the table until it hit Einar’s plate with a clonk.
“Bingo!” John told him, smiling. He could not keep his eyes from speaking volumes. He then returned his attention towards his plate and the meal there which had gone cold. He did not want to think about Ægir and Calypso and what they represented. It had taken him less than a blink of the eye to realize there was a connection – a physical bond between them and him. John shuddered, and suddenly felt very vulnerable. He got up from his chair and left the mess. Coming up on deck was a relief, and he breathed the fresh salty evening air, clearing his head of all the dreamy images swirling there. He wanted comfort. He walked up to the Captain’s cabin. It was like his feet had carried him there way before he himself had even begun to make the journey.
Jack and Mr. Gibbs were deep in conversation, discussing the cannons and whether or not they should remove another five cannons permanently to allow more room for storage. Jack immediately saw that John was upset.
“Mr. Gibbs, would you mind leavin’ us?”
“Ye sure?” Gibbs said, eyeing John for a moment. He saw the signs as well. The eyes of the Treasure Child glowed bright red.
“I’ll be fine” Jack grinned shortly.
Once they were alone, John removed his hat, revealing his brown hair in cascades over his shoulders. He removed his coat. His billowy, white linen shirt glowed in the half dark of the cabin, and his eyes slowly died in colour, fading back to their normal golden glow. John sighed and sat down on the chair where Gibbs had been sitting minutes before.
“Wha’?”
“Just…!” John began, but couldn’t finish what he wanted to say.
“Come over ‘ere and rest yer head on me chest now, just—“
John was there in an instant. He slid onto the bed next to Jack, and he rested his head on Jack’s chest, on the flesh above his tits. John could smell the milk. The sweet scent was enthralling, and John realized how much he’d missed being an infant demon, safely cradled in Jack’s arms, oblivious to the world around him. Ah, the carelessness! The perfectness. The sweet taste!
“I’ve seen it on ye for the past weeks. You’ve changed, grown so restless. Is it me? I feel like a burden to ye in this state—“
“—hush, Dad! Nonsense! No, it’s not you” John whispered, doing his best not to wake the babies, “you mustn’t think that way.” John sat up. His dark brown hair, held off from his face by a black bandana woven with golden threads, cascaded down on Jack’s naked skin. “It’s, well, I think it is, well, I don’t know, I don’t know how to say it” John struggled. “I just wish for you to stay safe.”
“So it is me, then” Jack sighed.
“No, it’s not you! It’s me!” john sounded desperate, getting out of the bed. He started pacing the floor while he looked for the right words, realizing how terrified he actually was of maybe losing Jack’s trust.
“Sounds like ye’re tryin’ to break up with me, son!” Jack smiled, blinking playfully at him.
“No, no, not that!” John said, kneeling next to Jack’s bed as if in prayer, his eyes begging.
“Then wha’? Ye’re beginnin’ tha’ sound like Will—“
“—it’s the omens! Wherever I turn, there are omens, bloody omens!” John blurted out, burying his face in Jack’s arms, “it’s all connected, but I don’t see the actual connections! There are so many things which are out of my control” John wailed, his voice muffled because he kept grinding his face into Jack’s left arm.
“Ah, I see. You need to get laid, my son” Jack smiled at him, patting his son’s head affectionately.
“What does getting laid have to do with anything?!” John retorted, looking up at his father.
“Wait and see.”