Disclaimer: I don not own Pirates of the Caribbean or it characters or anything else… yadda yadda yadda…
This is a one shot story. Just Jack's first few moments on the 'Godforsaken Island'. I Had some random inspiration from my Pirate Muse. Although he has ran off now, and I can't seem to find him. Go figures.
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Jack's eyes snapped open at the heat that engulfed his body. The sun was beating down on him, threatening to drive him into the sand, and sparkling blue water lapped onto shore with a quiet crash as it hit the smooth white grains. Jack stared into the sand for a moment before turning onto his back and with a slight groan gradually pulled himself into a sitting position. He stared into space for a moment, hands rested at his sides to steady himself as he tryed to recollect where he was and what had occurred the night before.
It all came flooding back to him, the rage, the mutiny, the betrayal, the expression on Barbossa's face as he pushed Jack off the lath and into the deep crystal blue of the ocean below.
Jack's hands flew to the pistol as his waist, the single pistol with the single shot, expected for suicide, and grabbed hold of it. Cocking it and thrusting it into his mouth Jack squeezed his eyelids tightly together, ready to pull the trigger and be swallowed into the world of Hell that awaited him. He never thought he would nor could be betrayed like that, and no thought in his head could tell him why it had been done.
Jack thought for a moment, pistol in mouth, thinking of his wasted life and what was to become of him. He thought of all his past pleasures, and pain, he remembered all the pairs of eyes of all the men he had robbed and slaughtered, and all the ships he had burned. The faces of the many different women he had taken and the numerous slaps to the face. He remembered the night he received the small scar to his abdomen. Images of trees, grass and brush flying by him as he ran through the forest and to his freedom flashed in his mind, and Jack vividly remembered the shot of pain as a knife cut across his belly, but he had survived, he had managed to get away. Jack had gotten so far and now look where he was. Then she popped into his head. The only one he would ever love. The only one for him, he could never turn his back on her. She had saved his life more than fingers could count and Jack knew he could never forget her. The Black Pearl.
More memories flashed through his head; the smooth and flawless shape of her deck, the beautiful cherry wood that had been stained blood red, her hand carved wheel, pitch black sails, her name delicately painted to her side, what a beautiful ship; he missed her infinitely. As Jack was swallowed into the thoughts of his beloved ship, he didn't take any notice as the pistol slowly parted from his mouth and hand and fell to the sand without a sound.
Jack sat on the island, silently letting his mind wander to the various ways he had wasted his life. He had killed so many individuals and now had nothing to show for it. All treasure had been in the hold of his beautiful ship, and now it was gone, and so was she. His crew had betrayed him, and he knew they all had to pay for it, especially his mutinous first mate, Barbossa. Jack had trusted this man with his life, with his ship, and all had been throw in his face. Anger pulsed through Jack's body, blood black and eyes flashing, he knew Barbossa was going to pay. Jack's eyes shot to his pistol. Letting a feverish smile wash over his face, Jack let his fingers lace around the handle of his firearm and he gently slid it into his belt, vowing not to use his pistol until he came face to face with the one man who had betrayed him the most. Standing up, Jack decided that if he was going to obtain the chance to use his pistol again, he would have to find a way off this spit of land. He decided to walk around a bit and set his mind a-flowing.
Letting ideas run through his head, Jack let his feet take him all throughout the island, silently inspecting the trees and grass, sand and rocks, taking it all in. But Jack's thoughts were thrown off as he placeed his foot into a hallow place in the sand and fell strait through landing painfully on the floor of the underground cellar. Jack stood up groaning and rubbing the ribs he had fallen on. 'Should tighten that later' he thought, looking up. But as Jack let his eyes wander to the walls that surrounded him, he couldn't help but let loose a grin. To his surprise, and pleasure, the whole of the room built beneath the sand was full of rum, food, and supplies, meaning this island must be home to a ship and crew, meaning that all Jack had to do was wait. But as he took time to observe the room more carefully his grin grew into a smile. Bottles upon bottles of rum rested along the shelves of the room, crated meat lined the floor, and heaps of rope and cutlery took advantage of all space left. Jack's smile grew even larger, if possible; things were starting to look up.
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Yeah, that's it. Thanks for reading.