Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with Pirates of the Caribbean franchise or the series (characters, places, events from the main story etc.)
"I am William J. Turner, Will Turner´s descendant!"
Part 1.
I laid on the ground in a cold and gloomy room that I called home. There were no windows in the room even though the room was on the third floor and it wasn´t located in the middle of the bigger house. There simply just wasn´t any. I could barely breathe if I tried to sit up, since I could only get new somewhat fresh air from the tiny chink under the door and air didn´t have time to raise before it had already went through my lungs. But it was enough air to keep me alive and some days I got more air, when someone opened the door to bring me some food and little bit of water. Although without food and water, the air was meaningless to me. You might wonder, why I, nearly 17-years old young man, was left to a room with no windows and why I sounded like I was dying there? Well, that´s simply because I was dying there.
My father had left me there months or even years ago, I had no idea. Days spent in a fully dark room really had got me loose the sense of time when I couldn´t even scratch marks on the walls or something in addition to know how long it has been since I got food or something. I never knew if it was day or night since there was always some light coming from under the door. So no. No idea of the time. There I spent my days, not knowing what´s happening in the outside world. I didn´t even care anymore, me, William Joshua Turner, who happened to have a father who thought I couldn´t even manage living alongside with humans. Well, alongside with other humans, since I was a human boy too. But my family lineage wasn´t exactly very suitable of living in the modern world. We were a family of pirates. Yes, still in the 21st century, many of the family members lived a life of a pirate – but more than half of the members were now in jails, dead or dying slowly like me.
However, my father was one of those "lucky ones" who was different from the rest of the lineage and didn´t have the urge of starting his pirate life. I had always thought he was weird and that what I believed was the right way of living was the only truth, but I guess he was seriously lucky. I hated him, of course, because he didn´t let me be who I am. But I envied him in the sense of wanting to be more fit-into-the-society kind of a person. I had gotten into many troubles before he finally send me to this room to die or make up my mind and "become a normal person". It just wasn´t that easy to kill something so strong – to kill the feeling that has passed down in generations by the blood. One day I would get away from this prison and set sails, feel the salty breeze of the wind over the sea, fill my lungs with that air…
"Kiddo? You still there? You still alive?" I heard that dry voice of a man I called my father behind the door. I was surprised to hear his voice. I was sure he had gotten enough of me and that he had finally left me to die there. To think, I guess I was close to the point where I´m soon going to die because of my body drying too much. Why the heck was he asking whether I was still alive though? Why did he sound so worried if I was dead already? Had he started regretting his decision to put his only son into a locked room and wait until he dies out? I turned my head to look to the direction where I had heard his voice coming from. It would make no difference if I answered or not, since he would probably come into the room anyway. I didn´t make a sound. But I didn´t hear the door opening either. I didn´t hear the keys jingling when they hit each other, I heard nothing. I got curious, bit worried even, and tried to stand up and move towards the door, but my legs were weak.
Soon the silence was broken by humongous bang that sounded like someone had fired a cannon next to my ears. I crawled into a ball as quickly as I could, protecting my head, my brains were so sure someone was actually shooting with a cannon. My ears were ringing for a pretty good while, but when it finally stopped ringing, I could hear strange men voices talking. They were talking somewhere near the door, maybe even right behind the door.
"The lad must be still alive, he´s got the same blood as William Turner himself after all! And ya´ll know Turner, that bastard, who broke the curse not only once but twice!" someone unfamiliar to me said, laughed a little in the end. I was still curled into a ball somewhere in the middle of the room, when the door flew open. The light that rushed into the room was too bright and I couldn´t see a thing. I only heard my father´s voice crying in fear somewhere:
"No! Please, don´t do it! Not my son! You can´t take h—" He´s voice was suddenly cut short when I heard another bang. This time I was sure it was from a pistol, but it made my ears ring once again. When I could see something, ears still ringing, I saw my father´s figure collapsing to the ground, a bullet hole right in the middle of his forehead. My eyes widened in fear and horror.
"Father! Father!" I cried out as I quickly jumped up and tried to get to him, but I was caught by two bulky men. I guess even less muscled men would have caught me easily as well, since I was in no shape of fighting. All the attempts of getting away from these two was meaningless. There was indeed no escape for me and who knows if those men would have shot me cold blooded if I had tried running. My eyes started filling up with few tears – I hardly had any tears left in me since I was badly dehydrated. I had no clue whether the tears had shown because I had witnessed my father´s death or because I was scared of what these men were up to. And how they knew who my ancestor was? I was sure my father had kept that information in secret. An old bearded man strut inside the door, few more men following closely behind. He looked like a pirate, like a pirate who had lived in the 17th century or around that time. And I had never seen him before. The old man came to me, looking closely my every feature before leaning even closer and putting a knife against my throat. Suddenly, the man began laughing.
"Yes, yes! This lad is exactly like Turner! He even got the same dark eyes and weird wavy hair... Only the clothes and age don´t match", the man said and lifted the knife but just so that he could grab my throat with his hand. The skin of his hand was rough and dry like sandpaper. I was at his mercy and could hear him trying to load a pistol with just a single hand. "What´s yar name, lad?" he asked with a voice so freezing I though he was going to make me into a living ice-cube. Somehow I knew that there was no reason of lying to this man. It was probably the pistol I could see from my left eye corner.
"Wi- Will..." I answered with my voice cracking. I needed to cough, but I couldn´t. The man pressed the knife again against my skin and slit a tiny cut. I yelped.
"Yar full name." He was serious. The way he looked straight into my eyes was intimidating. If I thought I had had some courage left in me, I didn´t have it now. I swallowed quietly as I could, brought back some pieces of courage as quickly as I could and I answered again:
"My name is William Joshua Turner." I hoped that was enough. The pistol was already loaded, I could sense it, see it from the careful finger movements around the trigger. The man looked at others and put his knife away, but he didn´t let me go fully. I could feel how my legs had gone numb already and the two big guys had to "help" me stay up. When he looked back at me, his smile was devilish, I must say.
"This is the lad we had been looking for and now he´s ours! No one will stop us now! We can finally break the curse, which, yes, gave us abnormally long life, but on the other hand, took us away all the fleshly pleasures of the world. What a pain in the arse it has been, men! But soon, as we return to our time, it´ll finally be over!" the man praised and others started cheering and celebrating. A curse? Returning back to their time? What were they even talking about? I had no idea about those things, but I seemed to be the only one, who had noticed that someone had been watching us from the darkness. Someone, who wasn´t with them.