Legends of the Treasure Child : Demon Spawn

Days became weeks, and weeks turned into months. And the months turned quite lucrative for Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew on the Black Pearl. The twins grew, and started moving about, and Jack was back in the game at the wheel, shouting orders and maintaining discipline in the ranks, and he made an effort to get to know the new members, making a point of showing them that he was the Captain of the Pearl, all though John was a lot more impressive to behold. John simply followed the lead, and stepped back now that Jack was again running the show. He focused his efforts where they were most needed – a weather eye on the horizon – in case the Thyrion decided to show up.
They were headed for Port Royale – a port Jack hadn’t set foot in for years. The last time he’d been there, he’d been a pirate. Now, he was an honest businessman. No more looting, no more whores and no more hustling – no more pirate’s life for Jack Sparrow. In the evenings, the original crew of the Pearl - the hardened core, as they told themselves they were, would gather and tell each other stories. The first time Jack participated, settling down among them with his pipe and bottle of tea (because John once told him how sick he’d gotten whilst being a baby, because Jack had emptied a bottle of rum while he’d nursed John. Since then, Jack brewed tea on a rum bottle so it would look like rum but no one would notice it really wasn’t. He did after all have a reputation to maintain) they’d all gone silent.
“There are rumors on boa—“ Gibbs began delicately.
“—they say the ship’s cursed to forever sail the seven seas ‘cause you is a whore to the white demon—“ Ragetti said quickly, not being able to hold his curiosity back any longer. He sighed relieved afterwards, and said: “oh, am I glad to get that off me chest” he turned to Pintel, “feels better now, when it’s out in the open. No man should have to carry such a burden” he said, and Pintel nodded in silent agreement. They’d both cut their hair, and Ragetti had concealed his lost eye under a black patch. They both smelled of rum, though, as usual.
“Ah, well, maybe it’s time we had this little ‘chat’, then” Jack said somewhat ironically, rolling his eyes at the couple. “First of all, we’re not cursed. Secondly, if I hear the words ‘whore’ and ‘demon’ again in the same sentence, ever, that person will lose his tongue, savvy?!”
They all nodded gravely at him, fully understanding the extent of his words.
“And they whisper of, uhm, that you son, is Anti-Christ—“
“—or Loki—“
“—or Lucifer—“
“—or that demon with the incredibly long name which I’ve completely forgot—“
“Well, you’re all probably right.”
“Doesn’t it bother ye to know ye’ve actually fathered Anti-Christ? The—“
“—not really” Jack answered shortly. “For those of ye who’ve actually read the Bible, you’ll notice that the Book of Revelations mention the Anti-Christ as a beast with various body parts from lions, leopards, with twelve heads with crowns and all tha’. And his father, which is Satan, is supposed to appear as a Dragon. Neither does John claim to be the Christ Returned, which the Anti-Christ would have. Unless he knows we’d see right through him and is therefore holding back that information in order to make us think that he’s not, while he infact is the Anti-Christ, only he’s trying to deceive us and will tell us upon judgement day, which will be the day when he opens the Gates of Hell...”Jack’s voice trailed off as he was beginning to doubt his own words. What if John really was the Anti-Christ, but was a good sort of Anti-Christ who held back just because of Jack? What would happen if John got so frustrated until it all toppled over and he began unleashing his powers on his surroundings? “Besides”, Jack snapped out of it, “we all know the Pope is the real anti-Christ, savvy?”
“Why do you have to give to birth to babies?” Ragetti, in his singlemindedness asked. Gibbs immediately scolded him by hitting him in the back of his head.
“It’s a curse. And a penalty. For me greed. For gold.” Jack replied a matter of factly. “I have been told I am to live forever and breed an army for that demon. And with it, he will re-conquer Hell, and use Earth as his playground before he goes after the Heavens. And John is supposed to be his Champion, only...John doesn’t want to.”
The listeners had gone silent. Jack could hear the large thumping of every individual’s frightened heart. They were beginning to understand what they were up against.
“If John indeed is Anti-Christ, but doesn’t want to be the Anti-Christ, then it ought to stay tha’ way, don’t you think? No need to change his mind, savvy?”
There was a singular and confirmative ‘aye’ from the listeners. Jack could tell they were worried. Even Mr. Cotton’s parrot had shut up.
“John is tired, ye see. There are evil forces all around, every single day now, which are tryin’ to tell him they want him on their team. They’re tryin’ to convince him to turn into a really bad egg if ye get me meanin’, savvy? They’re all competin’ for the same prize: World Domination. Domination of Hell. Domination of Heaven. And ye know why? ‘Cause alone, they’re not strong enough, but with the Treasure Child by their side, they’ll be able to crush everyone else’s defences. Ye think this is abou’ makin’ some gold? It’s just some side effect of John’s enormous powers, but ‘cause of mankind’s greed, tha’s all the legend has come to be about. So do me a favour in the future and forget all silly thoughts abou’ whether or not I’m whorin’ around with some demon or not, for tha’s not wha’ it’s all about, savvy?”
“...but, but wha’ can we do about it?” Ragetti wanted to know. The others nodded in agreement with the question.
“We need to make sure John stays good. And by good, I mean treated as one of the crew. He must know tha’ he’s more human than demon. And the more agreeable ye all are toward him, the more ye all treat ‘im as part of the crew, the longer he stays nice. John knows he’ll open the Gates one day. It’s part of his destiny. But he cannot tel wha’ he’ll be doin’ then. Only he can control the tide—“
“—the...the tide?!” Pintel asked, his voice shaking with terror.
“The tidal wave. Probably some tidal wave of evil flooding all of Earth, wha’ do I know? John couldn’t see tha’ clearly. Maybe it’s a flood, like with Noah and the Ark” Jack spoke, lost in thought.
“—but we’ve got the Pearl, we’ll be safe!” Ragetti shot in.
“Yeah, we’ll just float on top, stupid!” Pintel replied sarcastically and hit Ragetti on the back of the head again. Jack didn’t answer. He only took a sip from his bottle of ‘rum’.
“Gibbs! Tell us a story from Singapore, if ye please!” Jack looked at Gibbs with a smile, desperately in need to change the subject.
“Aye, Capt’n. Back in our piratin’ days, ye see, good men...” Mr. Gibbs began, clasping his hands together with a satisfied smack. The listeners, with exception of Jack, were already spooked half to death by Jack’s dark forebodings of evil times. He could see it on their weathered faces. Telling this story would be most satisfying!
High above, concealed by thick stormy clouds, The White Demon Thyrion maintained same speed as the Black Pearl. He gazed down at the black speck against the big blue ocean. He sensed it: His slave had fed his children, his warriors to be, not long ago, and they were sound asleep. Their stomachs full of precious milk, their limbs nice and warm. He knew they dreamt of him, seeing him in their minds as he flew high above them in the air. One of them moved a little in his sleep. His slave had created a fine nest for them to be sure, but it was far from good enough. The Thyrion turned his head downwards, arching his body to adjust direction, and shot through the sky like an eagle diving towards it’s maritime prey.