Jack Sparrow swayed jauntily down the harbour side towards his beloved Black Pearl, rum in one hand and the other gentle twirling one of the many beads in his hair. He walked up the gangplank, nodded at Pintel, who had chosen the short straw to stay on board for watch and made his way to his cabin.
Pintel stared after the Captain, shocked that he was back so soon from the various bars and whorehouses in Port Colona. Blimey, that's a first, init', he thought, as the lamps were lit in the cabin and small shafts of dim yellow light spread across the deck's black wood. Shrugging, he turned his back on the cabin and stared moodily back down the harbour, the distant sound of music and laughter drifting over to him over the sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore.
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As soon as the door closed, Jack slumped against it and yawned deeply. Straightening up, he first placed the bottle of rum on his cluttered mahogany desk, and proceeded to remove his coat, waistcoat, sash, until he wore only his breeches and shirt. He settled down at his desk and began sorting through the many papers discarded there to clear a little space. He could feel a small headache beginning to pound behind his eyes. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, he continued to pick up random letters, smiling at the one from his father, before placing it tenderly in a draw. He folded the various maps and placed them too, in another draw. Once the desk was clear enough to be able to work comfortably on, Jack smiled to himself and fetched the ship's log from the largest of his bookshelves. Back at his desk, he rolled up his sleeves, opened a bottle of ink, took out a long quill and began writing.
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Unknown to Jack, he was being watched. A small group of cloaked people stood on the harbour, watching the Pearl intently. Jack was just visible through the windows at the back of the ship, bent over his desk and writing. The only other person they could see was the watchman, a slovenly looking person, who was dropping of to sleep where he sat.
"Shouldn't be too 'ard", one of the figures muttered. "I'll 'it the fat bastard over the 'ead, Ruth'll scream, an' if all goes to plan, 'e'll come out and then-", he made a violent motion in the air.
The others nodded their agreement.
The speaker broke away from the group, and crept up the gangway towards the sleeping Pintel. The intruder silently picked up a large block of wood and creeping nearer, deftly struck Pintel straight over the head. He dropped to the floor unconscious. The man quickly dragged Pintels body out of sight, and stealthily crept back to join his companions. He nodded to the others, and the smallest of them let out a piercing scream.
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The scream made Jack jump so hard he knocked the ink bottle flying. Pushing himself up, he walked over to the window and peered out into the night. The harbour side was deserted. Suddenly, the blood-chilling scream filled the night once again. Making his mind up to investigate, he shoved his boots back on, grabbed a bejewelled knife lying on the top of the chest of drawers and quietly opened his cabin door. The deck was deserted.
Where the hell is Pintel? If that mangy turd is in a bar- Jacksthoughts were broken off by a quiet scuffling coming from a side alley. He peered into the darkness. Walking softly forward, slightly crouched, Jacks eyes darted along the harbour. It was still deserted. He went down the gangplank and listened hard in the silence.
Oh. Must have vanished, Jack thought, letting the knife drop to his side. Suddenly, a noise behind him made Jack whip around in time to see two dark figures step out of the deep black night. With no time to cry out, Jack was kicked in the stomach. He fell to the ground, dropping the knife, as someone bundled a black sack over his head. Starting to struggle, he felt something hard collide with his head, and he sunk into oblivion.
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Short and sweet but the chapters should get longer. Review if you want because I never know how the starts of stories sound.