A/N: this is what i've decided to call a trailer, just to see if anyone is interested. if they are not, it will be discarded and added to the millions of terrible ideas i've gotten. i would greatly appreciate any reviews, negative and positive are both fine. :)
Jack flew in with sword in hand, attacking the beast while it consumed him, its sharp teeth sinking into his flesh. Jack was being overcome by darkness, just as we all had been, swallowed by it just as he had been swallowed by the kraken, and though he continued to thrash, his attacks grew weaker by the second, until finally they stopped altogether and he was swept up in the heavy cloak of what he probably thought to be death.
He was close, but had missed the mark a little.
"Where the Hell am I?" was the first thing out of his mouth when he landed on the cold hard floor. The floor shone, just as always, and its design was a black and white checkered pattern, extending endlessly in all directions.
He was in what appeared to be a retro 50's diner. He didn't know that of course, but I did. I worked there after all.
"Ah, Jack Sparrow," I said, walking over to him. "We have been waiting for you for quite some time now."
It was times like these when I wished our outfits weren't so jarringly, blaringly white. They consisted of a knee-length skirt (white), a polo shirt (also white), and a neat little apron (also also white). I extended my neatly manicured hand towards him, taking a glance at the condition of my nails to make certain yet again that they would meet the diner's standards. Spotless, as usual.
"This is not Hell; not quite there yet; and for your information, that profanity you used just a second ago will count against you." He looked suspicious, and I couldn't really blame him. Not many people envision the place between life and death as a retro 50's diner. I smiled wryly, shrugging.
"Where am I?" he asked again, looking annoyed.
I smiled broadly and gestured at our surroundings. "Did you not realize? This is the place between life and death. I believe you Catholics call it purgatory."
He raised his eyebrows at me. "Surely I'm not the only Catholic here."
"Not the only Catholic, this is true, but you are one of the few Catholics present at this moment in time," I rebutted, smiling.
Now that he was over the initial shock (or so I surmised), he began to look around with what looked like an insatiable curiosity, poking at things and squinting up at the lights. This one's gonna be trouble... I thought to myself.
"Mr. Sparrow. May I ask you to not touch?" I asked dryly.
"You may ask, but that does not mean I will oblige," he replied urbanely.
Curse it; he's good, I thought, narrowing my eyes. "Let me rephrase that, Mr. Sparrow. You may not touch anything."
He eyes sparkled. "But that's impossible!" he exclaimed in mock indignation. "I have to touch the floor." He resumed his exploration, but whirled around to face me again. "And that's Captain Sparrow."
I put my hands on my hips. "Can you please cooperate?" I asked. It had only been five minutes and I was already losing my patience with the infuriating man.
He didn't reply, instead asking, "Why is there all this strange stuff here?"
"Well, it's mostly items from what you would consider to be the future. However, there is no real 'time' here."
"Then why did you say that you'd been waiting for me for 'quite some time now'?" He was grinning, the wicked man.
"I used to be mortal once," I growled, scowling. I pushed him into one of the red plastic booths, and took the seat across from him. I dug out a rulebook from my messenger bag (you guessed it, it's white) and dropped it in front of him, feeling obscurely pleased with the loud THUNK sound it made. "You can start reading the guidelines, and please do not move from this booth. I will be back later if you have any questions." And with that, I gladly walked away, rolling my eyes slightly, thinking, I'm glad that ordeal is over.
Oh, how wrong I was.
A/N: im not sure whether to continue or not. i need help. please drop a review. and if you're anonymous, my utmost apologies (after all, it's not entirely my account, so it wasn't completely my choice.) really, im sorry.
