Witch
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
6,768
Reviews:
119
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male › Jack/Will
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
6,768
Reviews:
119
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 1 - Devil Spawn
Witch, by Hellborne
Pirates of the Caribbean – Slash: Jack/Others, Jack/Will. NC-17.
Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention: / is used for thoughts.
Archive: adult-fanfiction.org. If you want to put it elsewhere, no prob, just tell me the URL.
Beta: Now beta’d by my most perfect and wonderful Pendragginink and her magnificent Jackal! Hail to thee, oh modest and humble BetaGoddess!
Summary: What did Jack do to be tortured so? He would love to know. Torture, Rape, Lemon, Slash.
NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, no more writing. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 1 – Devil Spawn
He wished for death now. He used to wish for rescue; for freedom. But there was no freedom, only pain. So he wished for death.
Crack!
His screams could be heard throughout the lower level of the building. Try as he might, he couldn’t think clearly through the red haze of pain. He’d given up trying to escape. The last time he tried, they’d broken every bone in his right foot and didn’t feed him for three days.
Crack!
His back was awash with a fire the likes of which he’d never known. He’d received Moses Law before, but this was more than any man could bear. He felt the blood running down his legs. He begged for death.
He barely felt them taking his hands out of the shackles far above his head. He was in his own little world of pain, and what they did to his body wasn’t his to worry about. He finally passed out when his head hit the stone floor.
* - * - *
Jack woke to a gentle cleansing of his wounds. He was used to this part now. It had happened every day shortly after the beatings. He was on his stomach, naked, with his hands bound with rope. He remembered part of the beating. Or maybe it was the one before. He had trouble remembering, as the daily beatings were melding into one giant one in his head. How long had he been there? He couldn’t remember that either.
He remembered docking in Guadeloupe for supplies. He remembered going to the local tavern for a drink with Will. He remembered some soldiers coming in with an hysterical woman who pointed at him and screamed something unintelligible, and that the soldiers grabbed him and hauled him to…where? He knew there was no fort in Guadeloupe.
He felt his back being stitched. After the pain of the beating, this was like heaven. He considered what he could remember of his stay. His captors hadn’t said a word to him. No accusations beyond the woman pointing at him; no trial, no sentence. Just pain. After being beaten whenever he spoke for the first three days, he stopped talking some time ago. He’d have to change that. He cleared his throat. Raspy, but he thought maybe he could speak. “Why beatings?” His voice sounded like someone had gone over his vocal chords with sandpaper…barely more than a whisper came out of him.
Whoever it was stitching his back up stood and backed up. “Lord, I will not speak to Devil Spawn! Make him stop!”
Jack considered. “Pirate. No’ Devil Spawn.”
The man ran, slamming the door, the needle still in Jack’s back.
/Maybe I shouldn’t have spoken…/ He tried to move and failed. He was way too weak.
Minutes passed with Jack just lying there on his stomach, barely able to think coherently. The door opened again, and Jack heard two sets of feet.
“You admit you are a pirate, but deny you are a witch. How pitiful. What is your name, witch.”
Jack thought for a moment. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done to make anyone think he was a witch. “Jack Sparrow, captain o’ the Black Pearl.”
“Then you admit it! You captain the witch ship. Then you must be a witch. Repent your sins that you may go to heaven.”
He tried to move again and groaned. “No’ a witch. Wha’ ye wan’ w’me?”
“Admit that you are a witch and repent. Then you shall be free.”
“No’ a witch.”
“You have no magical powers?”
“None.”
“Liar. A witch and a liar. The lady said you were devious. She also said you have Satan’s mark.” He took Jack’s hands and examined them. He found the scar on Jack’s left palm from the Isla de Muerta and touched it. “There. That is proof that you are a witch. Now admit it and repent, witch!” He twisted Jack’s broken foot.
Jack screamed as the bones of his foot scraped against each other. “No’ a witch! No’ a witch! Please! Stop!”
“Just repent and you shall have no more pain, witch.”
“Please no more! Can’t repent. No’ a witch!”
“Then you force me to send you back to your fate. Unless it is to admit your guilt and to repent, you shall not speak again. Do you understand?”
Jack nodded as best he could, sobbing and broken.
As the door closed again, the hands came back to finish stitching his back.
Jack just hoped that death would find him soon.
* - * - *
TBC
A/N: It would be great to get paid for this, it's a true labor of love...and it gives a writer enough warm fuzzies to go on when someone tells them their work is worthy of comment. When someone appreciates hatehates) their work enough to comment, it feeds the plot bunnies. If you don’t say what you like or don’t like, *whine*, my writing will never *sob* get any better...ever. And the plot *whimper* bunnies will *gasp* die. I am grateful that you read this, and don’t worry about me or the bunnies, I...I know I’m not worthy. I'll just sit here...by the empty review page....alone, in the dark, knee deep in dead bunnies...waiting...*sigh* Farewell, dear reader, I*cough* wrote this for you. You deserve it. You are worth it. (and not for that meanie who never, ever leaves reviews - who wouldn’t clap hands, either--AND TINKERBELL DIED!)...Now please feed the plot bunnies by hitting the "REVIEW" button!!!
Pirates of the Caribbean – Slash: Jack/Others, Jack/Will. NC-17.
Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention: / is used for thoughts.
Archive: adult-fanfiction.org. If you want to put it elsewhere, no prob, just tell me the URL.
Beta: Now beta’d by my most perfect and wonderful Pendragginink and her magnificent Jackal! Hail to thee, oh modest and humble BetaGoddess!
Summary: What did Jack do to be tortured so? He would love to know. Torture, Rape, Lemon, Slash.
NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, no more writing. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 1 – Devil Spawn
He wished for death now. He used to wish for rescue; for freedom. But there was no freedom, only pain. So he wished for death.
Crack!
His screams could be heard throughout the lower level of the building. Try as he might, he couldn’t think clearly through the red haze of pain. He’d given up trying to escape. The last time he tried, they’d broken every bone in his right foot and didn’t feed him for three days.
Crack!
His back was awash with a fire the likes of which he’d never known. He’d received Moses Law before, but this was more than any man could bear. He felt the blood running down his legs. He begged for death.
He barely felt them taking his hands out of the shackles far above his head. He was in his own little world of pain, and what they did to his body wasn’t his to worry about. He finally passed out when his head hit the stone floor.
* - * - *
Jack woke to a gentle cleansing of his wounds. He was used to this part now. It had happened every day shortly after the beatings. He was on his stomach, naked, with his hands bound with rope. He remembered part of the beating. Or maybe it was the one before. He had trouble remembering, as the daily beatings were melding into one giant one in his head. How long had he been there? He couldn’t remember that either.
He remembered docking in Guadeloupe for supplies. He remembered going to the local tavern for a drink with Will. He remembered some soldiers coming in with an hysterical woman who pointed at him and screamed something unintelligible, and that the soldiers grabbed him and hauled him to…where? He knew there was no fort in Guadeloupe.
He felt his back being stitched. After the pain of the beating, this was like heaven. He considered what he could remember of his stay. His captors hadn’t said a word to him. No accusations beyond the woman pointing at him; no trial, no sentence. Just pain. After being beaten whenever he spoke for the first three days, he stopped talking some time ago. He’d have to change that. He cleared his throat. Raspy, but he thought maybe he could speak. “Why beatings?” His voice sounded like someone had gone over his vocal chords with sandpaper…barely more than a whisper came out of him.
Whoever it was stitching his back up stood and backed up. “Lord, I will not speak to Devil Spawn! Make him stop!”
Jack considered. “Pirate. No’ Devil Spawn.”
The man ran, slamming the door, the needle still in Jack’s back.
/Maybe I shouldn’t have spoken…/ He tried to move and failed. He was way too weak.
Minutes passed with Jack just lying there on his stomach, barely able to think coherently. The door opened again, and Jack heard two sets of feet.
“You admit you are a pirate, but deny you are a witch. How pitiful. What is your name, witch.”
Jack thought for a moment. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done to make anyone think he was a witch. “Jack Sparrow, captain o’ the Black Pearl.”
“Then you admit it! You captain the witch ship. Then you must be a witch. Repent your sins that you may go to heaven.”
He tried to move again and groaned. “No’ a witch. Wha’ ye wan’ w’me?”
“Admit that you are a witch and repent. Then you shall be free.”
“No’ a witch.”
“You have no magical powers?”
“None.”
“Liar. A witch and a liar. The lady said you were devious. She also said you have Satan’s mark.” He took Jack’s hands and examined them. He found the scar on Jack’s left palm from the Isla de Muerta and touched it. “There. That is proof that you are a witch. Now admit it and repent, witch!” He twisted Jack’s broken foot.
Jack screamed as the bones of his foot scraped against each other. “No’ a witch! No’ a witch! Please! Stop!”
“Just repent and you shall have no more pain, witch.”
“Please no more! Can’t repent. No’ a witch!”
“Then you force me to send you back to your fate. Unless it is to admit your guilt and to repent, you shall not speak again. Do you understand?”
Jack nodded as best he could, sobbing and broken.
As the door closed again, the hands came back to finish stitching his back.
Jack just hoped that death would find him soon.
* - * - *
TBC
A/N: It would be great to get paid for this, it's a true labor of love...and it gives a writer enough warm fuzzies to go on when someone tells them their work is worthy of comment. When someone appreciates hatehates) their work enough to comment, it feeds the plot bunnies. If you don’t say what you like or don’t like, *whine*, my writing will never *sob* get any better...ever. And the plot *whimper* bunnies will *gasp* die. I am grateful that you read this, and don’t worry about me or the bunnies, I...I know I’m not worthy. I'll just sit here...by the empty review page....alone, in the dark, knee deep in dead bunnies...waiting...*sigh* Farewell, dear reader, I*cough* wrote this for you. You deserve it. You are worth it. (and not for that meanie who never, ever leaves reviews - who wouldn’t clap hands, either--AND TINKERBELL DIED!)...Now please feed the plot bunnies by hitting the "REVIEW" button!!!