Legends of the Treasure Child : Demon Spawn

Days grew into weeks and weeks merged into months while the Pearl operated in Chinese waters. It was a difficult operation to lift the ancient chests from the grasp of the bottom of the sea – mainly because John was being hampered by eerie soldier ghosts of the Imperial Chinese army. Giant morays had once adopted the wreck as their home, and fighting these long snakelike beasts proved a challenge for John, though he tended to come out of the battles unharmed yet terribly annoyed, so annoyed his eyes were burning red, and he would snarl at the crewmen who had the misfortune of being in his way.

A year had passed and the twins had been weaned. Jack had almost coughed up his heart as he one day had returned to the cabin and the display waiting for him there. He’d left them unattended for a matter of a few minutes, but it had obviously been more than enough. Nathaniel was gone. Jack could hear him, but not see him, and Jack looked frantically about before he jumped at the sight of his yearling hovering in the air above Jack’s head, waving at Jack with the pair of scissors Jack had left on the top shelf, thinking it would be out of the way of the twins up there. He was wrong. After that episode, Jack invented a pair of harnesses for the twins. He then took the twins outside and tied ropes to each of the braces. As they giggled happily and flapped their fluffy white wings, they began to float upwards. Airborne and oblivious to the height, they rejoiced at exploring the canvases, the masts and the ropework. Jack soon realized that they had no control whatsoever. They flew upwards, which was natural to them, but they didn’t know how to come back down. And when the distance became too great, or they tired from exploring the heights of the masts, they wailed for Jack’s warm arms, expecting him to come and get them. Jack simply dragged them back down, and by the touch of the floor boards beneath their feet, they forgot about flying and began to walk away to whatever attracted their attention.

The crew operating the ropes and the canvas soon grew accustomed to the strange company of small flying and nosy children interfering while they worked several metres above the deck of the Pearl. They feared the children would somehow slip and fall, but once they were airborne, they seemed to stay that way even if they’d landed on the mast for then to lose their grip and fall.

Will Turner would come to visit quite often. He’d become the children’s favourite uncle, because he showered them with attention and toys he’d carved out from pieces of wood. Will would play with them, feed them, cuddle them, change their diapers and rock each twin to sleep in his arms, singing lullabies from the depths of the chest which contained his childhood memories. They were songs his mother had sung to him, songs he’d forgotten he knew, but which he in the presence of the twins forced out from the darkness. Jack usually withdrew, leaving the twins into Will’s care, for he saw what being with them meant to the undead captain.

Will yearned to be a father for his son. A year and a half left, and they’d be reunited. Still, Will spent every single day fearing that Elisabeth and William junior would show up as spirits on his ship, their lives brutally ended. Or perhaps he wouldn’t know about it, for he only met with the souls whose owners perished at sea. And each month was one more step towards being reunited with his family, yet it also meant one more month without watching his son grow into a young man. One more month without doing things father and son did. One more month missed on getting to know his child. Will watched the twins play, and his vision blurred with tears. It was something which happened quite often – a testimony to the internal struggle Will wrestled with on a daily basis. Jack once told him that being with the twins was good for him – and that Will had to think of it as an investment, so he wouldn’t go home to his wife and act like a senseless idiot in front of his son. First impression was always important, and Will was going to have to make up for ten years.

Facing himself in the midst of a game with the twins, was hard, and Will sometimes broke in tears, weighed down by loss and grief, hugging the twins like they were his own and as if he was about to lose them. Jack let Will have those moments. It felt good to be able to give something in return for the favours Will had done for him, especially when it meant that Jack Sparrow could repay his dues simply by leaning back and let Will do all the work.



Jack was back in shape and that worried John. They both knew what that meant, and Jack more and more often clung to John at night, sharing bed, giving himself away to John, begging the half-demon to make love to him. And make love they did. In the darkness, in silence, hands moving, breaths hot and fast against each other’s faces. It was an act of necessity – for they both needed shelter in each their way. John would succumb to Jack’s wishes and mount his father, pushing himself inside, kissing gently, caressing the now flat hairless chest of his father, gently nibbling at the nipples. He’d rub his father’s hot spot, which was all that was left of his genitals once the Thyrion had mutilated Jack. And Jack would submit, and find himself dreaming of a different sort of Thyrion – as a lover and equal, a loving father and passionate husband. Traits which the Thyrion never would be in possession of. And John, while being inside Jack, found himself thinking similar thoughts, for the blurry image of a blonde haired head swam before his inner eye, and he dreamt of soft lips and a passionate, fiery embrace. His future husband, he knew. But they were years from coming face to face with one another, and John was grateful for that, for there were so many things to put in order.



John dreamt. He was afloat in the air, looking down at the Earth below. Looking up, he gazed at pearl white clouds and shimmering, white light. He decided to move upwards, but as he climbed a few metres, he suddenly felt frightened. He could see the presence, see the white substance descending, beckoning, and John instantly knew he’d made an error. He turned about in midair, diving down towards the Earth, plunging through the atmosphere. He awoke, just as he shot through water. John fought and flailed, coming up to the surface for air, gasping and panting. He immediately turned his gaze upwards, but the sight was gone. Some fifty metres away from him was the Black Pearl anchored up. It was bright and sunny – a hot Caribbean day. John could see Jack standing at the railing, looking at him, obviously wondering what was going on, the children flying about him.

John got on board without a word. He marched past Jack, straight into the cabin where he walked over to Jack’s desk. There, he positioned himself beneath the table, eyes darting about. Jack hurried in afterwards, the children wailing and complaining because they wanted to be outdoors. He came to a halt, and stared wide-eyed at his demon son who’d parked himself beneath his father’s table.

“John?” Jack asked, getting down on hands and knees, peering under the table. The twins thought it was somekind of game, and giggled, immediately crawling in under the table as well, crowding the small space. They promptly seated their tiny behinds on John’s lap, clapping their hands. Jack had never seen his son so shaken, and it worried him.

“There’s a place I have to go” he whispered.

“Does it involve a treasure?”

“No”.

“Souls in need of assistance, then? Should I call Will?”

“No?”

“Not distressing damsels I hope?”

“No. Just a book.”

“A book?” Jack replied, sensing his hopes on another glittering treasure fading. “Wha’ is the book? And why so frightened?”

But John wouldn’t answer him. All he said was: “I must go alone. I’m so sorry, Dad, but I must find this book, I have to know.”

Jack saw John off the next morning, saw his strange son take off his clothes, revealing a perfectly tanned body and then dive into the crystal blue. Jack sighed dejectedly after the splash. What to do now? He gazed over to the crew who pretended to be hard at work. Oh yes, pretense. He’d seen that before. But not on board his boat, no sir. Hm, about time he did some serious inspecting. Jack ordered Cotton to mind the wheel, and got Gibbs to follow along with him as he decided to take the tour of the deck and see how well the crew did their job. It was about time he reasserted himself as the rightful captain of the Black Pearl.

“Set sail” Jack barked, fishing out his compass, “we’re headed due east” he said, glancing at Gibbs.

“Aye, ye heard the capt’n, ye salty useless motherless dogs!” Mr. Gibbs shouted at them with a grin. He then turned towards Jack again and said: “Why east, Jack?”

“All in due time, Mr. Gibbs” Jack replied, reining in Daniel from the sky, smelling his bottom. “Just as I thought. Time for a diaper change. Oh wha’ a pirate must do tha get by, ey?”

Two weeks went by. The wind stayed faithfully by the Black Pearl, eagerly pushing her forward. They made good speed, and soon, Mr. Gibbs’ suspicions were confirmed. The journey took them through the strait of Gibraltar, and the made a stop just outside some insignificant port, where he sent a messenger ashore with a small bag of gold. Jack had debts everywhere, and it was time he paid his dues. It looked like conscience was getting the better of him, there was no arguing that.