A/N:
So,
there you have it. After almost a year of absence I'm back for
another story. As some of you know, I'm not really into the
standard type of stories.
This means that if you're looking for
another drawling story about Jack and some random fan girl that has
been sucked into the movie, heartbreaking romance or just general
random Mary Sueness, you're looking at the wrong author. Ok...
maybe a little heartbreaking romance, but only because I'm a sucker
for candlelight and drama.
I'm going to
try something that's rather new for me, call it a little
experiment. I'm not going to tell you what it is yet, but it'll
be fun for me to write. I don't have much time on my hands, so
updates won't be on a very regular basis.
Anyway, this was my
little introduction. I hope you enjoy my little experiment.
1. Introduction
Welcome to the Caribbean. Close your eyes for a moment and picture it; the warmth of the sun, a little breeze, the sound of the waves breaking on the palm tree beach, small yachts floating in a sparkling blue ocean, hotels near the beach and music blearing from the nearby disco's.
Lovely isn't it? Now, let's leave that modern day Caribbean and rewind time to something more serene, more quiet. Let's say we go back in time for about 300 years or so, the year 1655 to be precise. Seeing it?
No more
cell phones, hotels or cars? Good.
Again, welcome to the
Caribbean. Smell the fresh sea air, not yet polluted by factories
and cars. Seagulls scream, wind blows, the usual stuff. Nothing much
of interest is happening here, yet.
Zoom out; redirect your gaze
to an island in a much colder climate. It's an familiar island,
more commonly known as Great Britain.
Zoom in a little, until your gaze fixes on a great city. A great river divides the city in two. From this far off it seems majestic, wonderful and almost pretty. Let's use the great powers of storytelling and zoom in a little more. And a little bit more, until we find ourselves in one of the poorer districts the city has to offer. Suddenly the city doesn't look so majestic anymore, does it? A piercing scream sounds through the dark street.
Well,
I reckon I have kept you in the dark long enough. Let me introduce
you to our subject.
His name is Mark Heron and he is yet to be
born. His mother will remain anonymous for the sake of decency. I'll
spare you the gory details of childbirth; it suffices to say that
after a heavy struggle that took almost 24 hour little Mark Heron was
born into this world.
Unfortunately, he is born an orphan. His
mother died while giving birth to him, which means that he will be
left in the care of an orphanage.
The midwife wraps the little
baby in a few dirty, threadbare rags. Without showing any remorse she
searches the still warm corpse of the mother, removing everything
that seems of value. After all, the dead won't be needing it in the
afterlife, ey?
A few hours later a small bundle is left on the stairs of the church, the harsh November wind whistling around the walls. The great wooden doors open a little and the little bundle is pulled inside.
And
so begins the life of one of the most… interesting pirates this
world has ever known.
He is known to have sailed all of the seven
seas, he has seen Davy Jones and lived to tell the tale, he has
looked Death in the eye sockets and made a
clean escape every time.
This little baby boy, known now as Mark Heron, age 7 hours, will be known as the captain of The Black Pearl. This baby boy is better known as Jack Sparrow.
And this story is all about him…