Disclaimer: The films and the characters don't belong to me, neither does the ride.
So her betrayal was final.
Calypso had shown her neutrality and victory would now be determined by ships, swords and cannons.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Davy Jones felt his heart return.
Not literally of course, his heart was safe, locked away in wood and painful memories. But figuratively…he felt his heart break all over again with the same ferocity it had last time.
Anger and agony fought within his breast. He felt her presence wash over him in the rain. He let out a roar of fury, whilst internally he screamed in pain.
He used his rage, his desperation and despair. He used it to fight against Sparrow and the Brethren Court.
He would never think of them as his allies again.
He knew deep down in his dark soul that she had found out what he did. She knew he had betrayed her, had trapped her in her human body. And now she hated him.
They were locked in a tragic battle, each trying to best one another with different ways of hurting them.
She said she would wait but left for someone else. He bound the goddess in her bones, but that was only fair; she had trapped him in an eternity at sea. She had taken away his freedom. Now she would leave him to fight for himself.
She didn't care whether he lived or died.
He used this to fight the wrench that swung herself onto his ship. He used it to throw Turner against the steps. And he used it to say five words that were so true it hurt.
"Ah, love; a dreadful bond, and yet, so easily severed."
But the second part was a lie. Yes, love was a dreadful bond. But in no way was it easily severed. He and Calypso were proof of that.
It was a good thing that Davy Jones did not fear death. Death was nothing compared to the enduring torture he had spent his life in since he and Calypso were parted by the respective betrayals.
He was beginning to hate the word.
Just as he thought he would win this battle, he felt it; a jarring sensation in his empty chest, right where his heart should be, as his tie to the world, and more importantly the sea, was cut. The immortal Davy Jones was dying.
How ironic that his only escape from her was death.
How ironic that her name was the last to leave his lips.
How ironic that even after cutting out his heart to destroy the love he felt for her, it always belonged to her.
And how ironic that the last person Davy Jones betrayed was himself.
