Legends of the Treasure Child

John crawled up in his bed, playing with a wooden horse which Bootstrap had carved out for him. He’d look up now and then at his pirate father, meet his eyes and then go back to staring at his father’s familiar worn boots. He waited for the lecture, but none came. Jack kneeled next to him, and brushed away strands of brown hair that had fallen into the boy’s eyes. It was thick and heavy like Jack’s.
John had a strange, unfamiliar tingle in his body, and it annoyed him. He bent towards Jack, smelling him as he came close to Jack’s chest, laying his hands on his chest, pushing him down onto his mattress. The tingle blossomed into pain, a pulsing throe in his stomach, and he wanted comfort. He was growing again. For peril was moving closer by the hour. He felt it, sensed it in every fiber of his being. And it meant the end of his brief childhood, the end of all that was good. Demonspawn, the godless priest had called him. Blood would be flowing once more on the deck of the Dutchman, the deck which had been his home for these brief months, and he was unable to see the fate of his pirate father.
Jack was still in shock, still pondering the words which John had spoken just minutes earlier. He had so many questions, and he complied as John pushed him down to the mattress, pulling the hems of his shirt aside with the nimble fingers of a boy, and not a baby. He knew what John was aiming for, and simply hissed as John nursed from his left nipple. He both felt and saw John cringe, saw him shudder in pain and clench the bedspread as pain shot through his body, stretching his limbs, aging him another five years. He half expected black wings to start growing out from between John’s shoulder blades, but they didn’t. Jack was numbed with fear, an all too familiar fear combined with lust, for John’s teen age mouth on his nipple, the hot breath against his skin was awkward yet enticing, making Jack’s limp flesh respond to the treatment. And it was quite against his will.
When John finally let go off his nipple and looked up, Jack was met by the face of a beauty in its own right. A golden eyed young man with two elegant fangs together with a perfect set of white normal teeth. His face was clean cut, the spitting image of a young beardless Jack Sparrow, thick black lashes and a lush pair of lips any girl would kill to kiss. His hair hung to his shoulders, wild, dark and thick like Jack’s, only more vibrant. Yes, that was it, Jack mused, that was truly the describing word. Vibrant. Compared to the way John looked, Jack felt like a ghost.
John leaned forward and kissed his father straight on the lips. It was meant as a chaste kiss, but to Jack it was loaded with a wild river’s worth of emotions. It felt like Jack was kissing the demon, sensing the demon inside John, sensing it just behind John’s skin as it was hiding under some living exterior, sensing the legacy left behind by that hellish creature. He remembered the nightmare, and suddenly understood that he’d been foretelling events in his own future. John closed in on him, drawing himself closer to Jack’s body, breaking off the kiss and instead searching for his right nipple. He found it, closed his lips around it and began to suck greedily. As Jack started to oppose, to push him back, crying out in agony, John showed his true strength, pinning Jack to the bed while he pulled the shirt further away, using his legs to force apart Jack’s thighs, and grinding his groin against Jack’s.
Against his will, Jack felt himself grow hard, pleading for John to stop. Not until his voice was filled with panic, did John sober up, letting go off the nipple with a tug.

“I’m sorry, Dad” the boy said quietly, removing himself as he realized what he had done. “It’s just…, you smell so good. You smell of sweet milk.”

“My milk? Why is this happening to ye, John? Am I to watch ye grow old and grey haired in a matter of days now? And I was prepared to devote me whole life to your upbringing. In a Christian manner. Sort of. Or am I to call ye somethin’ else? I sure have been down on me luck latey. Managing to escape one demon just to give birth to another.” Jack paused to watch John wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. The unearthly male beauty resembling Jack began to wriggle himself out of his all too small clothes until he was sitting all naked, his perfect skin pale like mother-of-pearl. Jack wondered what he was up to now.

“Your body is my temple, and soon I have to protect it every way that I can.”

“From wha’? Just so you can have the pleasure of raping me again?! I’d rather die.”

“I’m not Thyrion, Dad. I’d never do anything to hurt you” John said, his dark brows drawn up in concern. “Your body was my vessel, your birth canal my harbour, and you gave me life so I could be here and pro—“

There was some insistent knocking on the door. It was William, soaked to his skin, and the priest from earlier. They came inside, and Will stared round-eyed at John for a moment, before he gathered himself and said: “Jack, this is Father Irons. I think you need to hear what he has to say.”

Jack stared back at them for a moment. So did John, showing no need for modesty. Then Jack stared at his boy, understanding why Will had raised one eyebrow, looking meaningfully at John and then back at Jack. Jack got up, tucked his shirt back to conceal his extremely exposed chest, before he put the bedspread around John. Raising the boy in a Christian manner proved very difficult when he himself had no clue about what was proper and not.

Jack listened intently as Father Irons talked about Captain Teague and his plan to take control of the Treasure Child, noticing how Will hardly took his eyes from his son’s body. And John was staring resolutely back at him in a clear challenge.

“Oy, enough with the starin’ contest, savvy?” Jack then sighed, rubbing his bandana-clothed forehead. He was not ready for all of this to happen, he just simply wasn’t. But he should have known that somebody sooner than later would seize the opportunity. A Treasure Child only occurred every 2000 years. And they lasted for centuries. Only the strongest and relentless of magics could kill them. And here he was sitting with the current one. And he wasn’t fully grown yet either.

“Father Irons, I have to return to my station. I’ll leave you three to it.” Will turned and headed back out into the rain and the storm.

Jack helped John with a shirt and a pair of pants from a chest he’d managed to salvage. He tried not to look at his son’s body all the while also trying to hide his flesh from the sight of the priest. And still, the feeling of dealing with something otherworldly, a creature that was no longer just his boy but something more. A demon offspring. *That* demon’s offspring. Standing erect, John was as tall as Jack, but clearly decades younger for his pubic hair were just beginning to show. Jack felt monitored, not just by the priest; Father What’s-his-face standing over by the door, but also by John. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, his body language telling Jack that the moment they were to be alone, something was going to happen. Something sexual. His golden eyes glowed in the half-dark, following every fluid movement Jack made with his arms, his body, his face. Every time their eyes would meet, sparks would fly in Jack’s veins like grenade shrapnel, and he felt his courage falter as John made no effort to hide his growing teenage erection. He’d already proven his strength to Jack, and they both knew who’d win an eventual fight for domination. Jack closed his eyes, then painted a smile on his lips, patting his son on the shoulder acknowledging, hiding his fear as best he could. It was difficult though, and for a moment he contemplated the possibility of actually letting captain Teague have his son if he indeed could bind him, and Jack would be rid of this predicament he found himself in. He just wanted to run and flee, for everything about John screamed of the demon rapist. It took all of his willpower to just go back to the edge of the bed and sit down in a composed and seemingly leisurely manner.

“Treasure Child”, Father Irons addressed him, “I hope you understand the severity of this. In my opinion, you owe it not jut to your father, but to all of mankind to rid the earth of this menace that this Captain Teague and his men represent. Greed is a deadly sin—“

“—spare me the lecture, priest!” John spat back at him, the contempt in his eyes glowing brightly red. “Mankind can sail its own sea. My first priority is my father, and to keep him sa—“
“—your father is a pirate, too. You should take in to account that your abilities can be abused by those you’d least expect, too! Once a sinner, always a sinner, as God would have it. Say, Captain Sparrow, are you a Christian?”

“Not as it were, no”, Jack replied, shaking his head slowly, lot deep in thought.

“So then your offspring here hasn’t been baptized. Baptism would be a start if we are to quench the evil that festers in the young boy’s heart. Remember, Captain, that he’s a demon’s child—“Father Irons paused as John started walking towards him, “—and that…, you’re standing at the crossroads—“

“—you don’t really believe your own words, do you? They’re just *words*, but without meaning”, the Treasure Child mused; stopping a mere meter away from the terrified priest, enjoying the power he had over him.

“The words are all I have left, now. But they are God’s words—“

“—God’s words?! You don’t really believe that, and we both know it! You were close to giving up when Captain Teague came knocking at your door! No, let me rephrase that, you had in effect given up, for when God failed to intervene, time after time as you had to undergo one trial after the other; you found it difficult to stay true to Him, so eventually you just pretended to know what you were talking about. It was that woman who died in childbirth, wasn’t it, that gave your belief the final death blow?! ”

“How do you…?! Stop reading my mind, demon! I name thee Thyrion! I command thee in the name of the Father, the Son and the—“

“—there will be no naming here, savvy?!” Jack shouted, getting up and going between the two, suddenly afraid the priest’s word would actually do John some harm. It made him realize he wasn’t prepared to lose John just yet, so letting Teague simply have him was definitely out of the question. “And how is it tha’ ye know about the demon anyway? How’d ye know John’s a Treasure Child?!”

“I have studied some scrolls which the head of my order came across when he was on a pilgrimage to the Dead Sea; to Saint John the Revelator’s grave. With the saint lay buried some scrolls. At first it was believed that Saint John was speaking of a demon he’d battled in his days. But the more I studied the scrolls and the language it was written in, the more I realized that it was not the tomb of a saint he’d come across, but the grave of a long dead Treasure Child which spoke of its father. The grave had been littered with gold, but when I asked my tutor about what became of the gold, he…changed. He refused to speak of it, and would lock himself in his study for days afterwards, until one morning when he was gone, his study was a mess, like there had been a fight. And on the wall were words written in blood: ‘Souls without salvation.’ You can imagine our distress for he was nowhere to be found and the windows were shut from the inside, barred for the coming of storms. The scrolls spoke of the Thyrion, Demon King of the Seventh Plane of Hell, Devourer of the Souls of the Damned, recollecting a story of how the Demon King one time had been summoned by the King of Sparta to receive a sacrifice, a young prince who was the younger of two sons belonging to his enemy. Instead of feasting on the soul and body of the prince, the Demon King fell in love, declaring that the prince would live for all eternity, bearing forth the Demon king’s children, thus building himself an army which he’d use to seize power in Hell and eradicate all the other planes. It’s quite a fascinating tale, and I poured over these documents for hours, reading them over and over again. Come to think that there is actually power struggle in Hell, which the Devil weren’t omnipotent, that perhaps there really isn’t just one devil but many of them, fighting for domination. And if that is so, what of Heaven? What if there isn’t just one true God but many gods like in the Hedonic tales…! And that poor prince and his terrible fate…, tied to a pole and raped over and over again by a hideous hellish creature, just imagine the torment…! But you know what that’s like, don’t you Captain? Of all the generations of men which has come and gone, you’re the only one who can identify with that poor prince.” Father Irons paused as he saw how his words made Jack respond. The pirate Captain was looking quite angry, then hurt, then saddened, his brown eyes watering over. Jack turned away, turned to John, then away from John too, remembering that John quite possibly was lost to him. Not a baby anymore, but a demon himself. He sat down on his makeshift bed, feeling more lost than ever, ignoring the priest and John.

“You see, Mr. Sparrow,” Father Irons continued, addressing John, “what I am most unsure about, are your intentions in this matter? The scrolls spoke of torture, maiming and death, feeding on the lives of infants, women and men alike, and of powers, terrible powers which allows you to twist and turn the reality to your liking, bending the will of innocent people, seducing and copulating with witches and demons, killing and slaughtering thousands, all in the name of gold. Like I said: I wonder if you’re at all worthy to even be alive on God’s green earth, let alone carry a cross. For it’s the greed in you, isn’t it? that made you want the cross, not your need to be at peace with God! And I helped those men because they deceived me, making me think I was doing the world a favour, until I realized what they were going to use you for, and seeing you as an innocent boy made me change my mind, but now…?! All I see is a wanton seducer who is high on his own power! A demon with nothing good in mind!” Father Irons finally drew his breath, “and now you’re going to kill me.”

“You’re already dead” John pointed to his rope.

“Right. So now what? I get to be tortured for a thousand years, is that it? Or are you going to devour my soul?”

“Since I am trying to prove to my terrified father over there that I’m a good man, uhm, thingy, demon? No, I won’t torture you. Just yet. Right now, mister priest—“

“—it’s Father Irons—“

“—aye, Father what ever. I want to stand on me father‘s side, since he’s in quite the predicament as Captain Teague also is his father, something Jack obviously ‘forgot’ to tell me. And I trust you to help me get through this mess with Teague, simply because I know you’ve met God. You’re an honest man.”

“What? Yes I’d like to be. No, no, I *lost* God. I no longer feel his call—“

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dead priest friend. So very wrong.”