POTC/Dawn of the dead crossover:
I know what you're all thinking: What the Sh*t are you talking about???
Full summary:
Funny you should think that.. No, seriously. This is POTC, after the movie, and hell is now full, and zombies walk the earth. It's the 18th century. Jack and the rest, (Gilligan's Island intro reference. Get it?.. d... nevermind.), have been running from what appears to be the un-dead for three days trying to figure out what the ~expletive deleted~ is going on?? They figure out, (via Joshamee Gibbs), that they need to use sanctified artifacts to destroy said demonic, unholy figures. It must be non- denominational to be effective though, because everyone has a different religion. Hence, they need to get weapons, water, and anything else they can use, blessed by a minister of a non-denominational church/sect. They still need to figure out how to make ALL of these 'things' cease to roam the earth.
Don't own any idea, character, or situation from: Pirates of the Caribbean, or Dawn of the Dead.
************************************************************************
Elizabeth huddled close to Will. "What in all things holy are those... those... things?!" She cried out.
"I don't know." Will said letting out a strangled response.
"They're not like Barbosa's crew." She continued. "They don't think... they seem to just seem to... react." She thoughtfully looked over to her husband for a response.
"I know what they are." Said Jack coldly as he stared out the ground-level window of Will and Elizabeth's study. His hands were folded behind him, and he seemed deep in contemplation.
They were at Will and Elizabeth's mansion. The study they were hiding in was dimly lit, as not to attract any undesired attention. Books, and cherry leather furniture surrounded them. The walls were paisley green, and garden mosaic. None would enjoy the room's magnificence this day.
The Turners both looked up from their stupor and to the man before them, peering out the curtains.
"What?" Asked the young blacksmith. His brow furrowed.
No answer. Their friend only stood there, motionless.
"For God sakes, what!" He demanded.
"... And the dead will walk the earth." Jack said as if remembering some distant lesson. He continued to keep his back to them.
"Jack!" He shouted. This detached state that he was witnessing was really starting to trouble him.
"Ye've heard the stories, mate?" Jack turned to them. "Of the day that hell itself becomes full?"
"No! You're lying!" Will shouted in complete denial.
The captain's face was grim. He gave Will a compassionate look, as he could tell he was informing him of something already known. Elizabeth clutched Will's shirt. They all knew the warnings. Jack turned his back to the Turners again. Gibbs was the first to tell him the coming of the dawn of the dead.
'They probably got me crew.' Jack thought. 'They'll get us too, soon enough.' He began to pace the room. He was watched as he paced back and forth, stroking his braided beard.
Suddenly, there could be heard scratching and wailing coming from outside. Jack quickly jerked away from the window. A person, no longer human, had slid across the window outside. The window quickly became tinted in a crimson hue. Chunks of rotted flesh clung to the outside of the windowpane.
It stayed there with its horribly mutilated face pressed against the glass, staring in. The facial muscles of this decayed form were exposed as well as on the palms of the hands. It looked as if it's flesh were eaten off by an animal. The fat cells under the eyes of the creature were yellow and oozing. Maggots had made a home out of one of it's eye-sockets. The other eye was still there, but cloudy and sunken in.
Jack leaned against the wall beside the window and slid down to a sitting position. He put his hands to his face and shook. Will had never seen Jack sob before. The undead at the window was Anamaria.
Elizabeth screamed and Will held her tighter. "Oh my God! It's Anamaria!!" She screeched. Her and her husbands eyes grew wide as they could only gaze upon the form. They froze as it turned it's attention to them.
"Bloody hell!" Jack howled into his hands. "Why are you doing this to me?!" He began to shake his head side to side with his hands.
Anamaria moaned into the glass. She left streaks in the blood on the window as she slid.
She began to get agitated and bang on the glass, finally breaking in. Blood sprayed in as she lacerated her hands and arms. Elizabeth let out a blood curdling shriek. Will immediately got up and grabbed his sword that was resting in it's scabbard on the table in front of him. Jack leapt to his feet and unsheathed his own cutlass and aimed it at the woman he once knew.
Elizabeth ran behind the sofa in hopes of putting a distance between her and the grisly looking Anamaria.
The two men waited cautiously for Anamaria to make the first move. She twitched and stood there in an attack position. Her lips were gone which gave her a fierce look, as if baring her teeth. She moved in an un-natural way. Jerking and convulsing like she was fighting with herself. This macabre version of their companion seemed to be sizing them up, looking from one man, to the other.
She lunged at Jack. Will saw the horror on his face, and decided to save him the trouble of killing his friend. He slashed at her head just as she came close to Jack. She fell to the rug below, leaving a massive amount of blood on the floor and her head in two pieces. Jack stood there in shock, covered from head to toe in gore. Then after the initial shock of what had happened, he dropped his sword and fell to his knees.
"Jack! Elizabeth! Follow me! It isn't safe down here any longer!" Will ordered.
He promptly grabbed his wife's hand and ran to Jack's side. He yanked him up by his collar and they all ran up the stairs. Elizabeth sat on the canopied bed. The two pirates proceeded to barricade the door to the bedroom with a heavy chest of drawers.
"We need to get to me ship!" Jack said frantically.
"How?! We can't get outside!" Will yelled as he looked up from pushing the piece of furniture.
"What do ye suggest? Wait around and have tea with the bloody things??" Jack yelled defiantly.
"That's suicide! What makes you think that it's only this town with this problem??"
With those words, Elizabeth became hysterical. It finally sunk in that her whole family was most likely dead, or undead as it seamed. All of their friends, their family... gone.
He knew as soon as the words left his lips, that he shouldn't have said them. "We need to get some sort of weapons to fend them off with. We need to stop more of them. There is only so many we can bring to an end. We can't take on more than two at a time, maybe three. We all saw that a single bite wound can change a man in a few hours."
"Aye." Said Jack. He remembered his friend Gibbs had met a gruesome end the night before. Ironic that he was the one that told them about what would happen. He had been injured by one of the creatures along the way to the Turner's mansion. They hunkered down in Will's shop for the night, and saw the transformation of Gibbs take place. He drew shallow breaths as they administered the treatment they could to his wound. His skin became clammy and transparent. His lips turned black and looked like he was decaying from the inside out. He gasped and let out his last raspy breath. The three of them sat there looking at their old friend in disbelief. They had to believe he could make it, otherwise, how would they? Jack shook the thought of Gibbs sitting up and attacking them out of his head.
"We figured out that no other conventional weapon can stop the bloody things, save for striking the head." Will stated.
"What if we bless things and use them on the un-dead."
"That won't work, Jack." He replied. "You have to perform exorcisms on people of the same religion as the blessing, so wouldn't you have to use weapons against people with tools that are blessed by their religion? (ex: Buddhist blessed object against Buddhist, ect..)
"Not if it's non-denominational." Said Jack.
"How do you know that?" Will shot him a doubtful look.
"I learned that from a mambo, a voodoo priestess of sorts. They call those people of the undead: zombies."
There was a loud crash just below them. All three in the room looked at the floor with anxiety.
"She's in." Said Jack turning towards the door. "Do you know a cleric of any church?" He asked with desperate hope in his eyes.
"I do." Said Elizabeth from the bed.
Both men turned to her. "Where?!" They said in unison.
"Up the road. About Three miles north." She said wiping away her remaining tears.
**********************************************************************
I know it's a bit out there... meh. Please read and review! I do apologize for killing Anamaria. She seems to always die in people's fics... She's not dead in any of my other fics!! I swear!
This was a tylonal PM induced story. That's why it's so special.
Cricket: chirp chirp.
Me: SHATTAP! *Barbosa-like hiss*
Cricket: ...
Me: That's what I thought bitch! *cough* Ahem!
I usually LOATHE crossovers, but I thought this was a good candidate for a crossover with POTC. I didn't, and am not going to go into the future with this, and I am not using anyone from the movie: Dawn of the Dead. This crop of zombies are from the eighteenth century. Wheee!!! Zombies with powdered wigs!!
**********************
Alteng: I must say that I made Liz wimpy in this chapter because it was Anamaria that was the zombie. She was, (I assume), friends with her by now. I would be very upset if I saw my friend like that. I wasn't making her the old 'maiden in distress'. You'll see. Just wait until the next chappie. As for the repetitiveness, I wrote this at three in the morning. I'm not making excuses, I'm just saying because most can relate. I'm changing that anyway, since I've had some sleeeeep. Tell me what you think. :) Thanks for the review, and I'm glad you'll look for more.
I know what you're all thinking: What the Sh*t are you talking about???
Full summary:
Funny you should think that.. No, seriously. This is POTC, after the movie, and hell is now full, and zombies walk the earth. It's the 18th century. Jack and the rest, (Gilligan's Island intro reference. Get it?.. d... nevermind.), have been running from what appears to be the un-dead for three days trying to figure out what the ~expletive deleted~ is going on?? They figure out, (via Joshamee Gibbs), that they need to use sanctified artifacts to destroy said demonic, unholy figures. It must be non- denominational to be effective though, because everyone has a different religion. Hence, they need to get weapons, water, and anything else they can use, blessed by a minister of a non-denominational church/sect. They still need to figure out how to make ALL of these 'things' cease to roam the earth.
Don't own any idea, character, or situation from: Pirates of the Caribbean, or Dawn of the Dead.
************************************************************************
Elizabeth huddled close to Will. "What in all things holy are those... those... things?!" She cried out.
"I don't know." Will said letting out a strangled response.
"They're not like Barbosa's crew." She continued. "They don't think... they seem to just seem to... react." She thoughtfully looked over to her husband for a response.
"I know what they are." Said Jack coldly as he stared out the ground-level window of Will and Elizabeth's study. His hands were folded behind him, and he seemed deep in contemplation.
They were at Will and Elizabeth's mansion. The study they were hiding in was dimly lit, as not to attract any undesired attention. Books, and cherry leather furniture surrounded them. The walls were paisley green, and garden mosaic. None would enjoy the room's magnificence this day.
The Turners both looked up from their stupor and to the man before them, peering out the curtains.
"What?" Asked the young blacksmith. His brow furrowed.
No answer. Their friend only stood there, motionless.
"For God sakes, what!" He demanded.
"... And the dead will walk the earth." Jack said as if remembering some distant lesson. He continued to keep his back to them.
"Jack!" He shouted. This detached state that he was witnessing was really starting to trouble him.
"Ye've heard the stories, mate?" Jack turned to them. "Of the day that hell itself becomes full?"
"No! You're lying!" Will shouted in complete denial.
The captain's face was grim. He gave Will a compassionate look, as he could tell he was informing him of something already known. Elizabeth clutched Will's shirt. They all knew the warnings. Jack turned his back to the Turners again. Gibbs was the first to tell him the coming of the dawn of the dead.
'They probably got me crew.' Jack thought. 'They'll get us too, soon enough.' He began to pace the room. He was watched as he paced back and forth, stroking his braided beard.
Suddenly, there could be heard scratching and wailing coming from outside. Jack quickly jerked away from the window. A person, no longer human, had slid across the window outside. The window quickly became tinted in a crimson hue. Chunks of rotted flesh clung to the outside of the windowpane.
It stayed there with its horribly mutilated face pressed against the glass, staring in. The facial muscles of this decayed form were exposed as well as on the palms of the hands. It looked as if it's flesh were eaten off by an animal. The fat cells under the eyes of the creature were yellow and oozing. Maggots had made a home out of one of it's eye-sockets. The other eye was still there, but cloudy and sunken in.
Jack leaned against the wall beside the window and slid down to a sitting position. He put his hands to his face and shook. Will had never seen Jack sob before. The undead at the window was Anamaria.
Elizabeth screamed and Will held her tighter. "Oh my God! It's Anamaria!!" She screeched. Her and her husbands eyes grew wide as they could only gaze upon the form. They froze as it turned it's attention to them.
"Bloody hell!" Jack howled into his hands. "Why are you doing this to me?!" He began to shake his head side to side with his hands.
Anamaria moaned into the glass. She left streaks in the blood on the window as she slid.
She began to get agitated and bang on the glass, finally breaking in. Blood sprayed in as she lacerated her hands and arms. Elizabeth let out a blood curdling shriek. Will immediately got up and grabbed his sword that was resting in it's scabbard on the table in front of him. Jack leapt to his feet and unsheathed his own cutlass and aimed it at the woman he once knew.
Elizabeth ran behind the sofa in hopes of putting a distance between her and the grisly looking Anamaria.
The two men waited cautiously for Anamaria to make the first move. She twitched and stood there in an attack position. Her lips were gone which gave her a fierce look, as if baring her teeth. She moved in an un-natural way. Jerking and convulsing like she was fighting with herself. This macabre version of their companion seemed to be sizing them up, looking from one man, to the other.
She lunged at Jack. Will saw the horror on his face, and decided to save him the trouble of killing his friend. He slashed at her head just as she came close to Jack. She fell to the rug below, leaving a massive amount of blood on the floor and her head in two pieces. Jack stood there in shock, covered from head to toe in gore. Then after the initial shock of what had happened, he dropped his sword and fell to his knees.
"Jack! Elizabeth! Follow me! It isn't safe down here any longer!" Will ordered.
He promptly grabbed his wife's hand and ran to Jack's side. He yanked him up by his collar and they all ran up the stairs. Elizabeth sat on the canopied bed. The two pirates proceeded to barricade the door to the bedroom with a heavy chest of drawers.
"We need to get to me ship!" Jack said frantically.
"How?! We can't get outside!" Will yelled as he looked up from pushing the piece of furniture.
"What do ye suggest? Wait around and have tea with the bloody things??" Jack yelled defiantly.
"That's suicide! What makes you think that it's only this town with this problem??"
With those words, Elizabeth became hysterical. It finally sunk in that her whole family was most likely dead, or undead as it seamed. All of their friends, their family... gone.
He knew as soon as the words left his lips, that he shouldn't have said them. "We need to get some sort of weapons to fend them off with. We need to stop more of them. There is only so many we can bring to an end. We can't take on more than two at a time, maybe three. We all saw that a single bite wound can change a man in a few hours."
"Aye." Said Jack. He remembered his friend Gibbs had met a gruesome end the night before. Ironic that he was the one that told them about what would happen. He had been injured by one of the creatures along the way to the Turner's mansion. They hunkered down in Will's shop for the night, and saw the transformation of Gibbs take place. He drew shallow breaths as they administered the treatment they could to his wound. His skin became clammy and transparent. His lips turned black and looked like he was decaying from the inside out. He gasped and let out his last raspy breath. The three of them sat there looking at their old friend in disbelief. They had to believe he could make it, otherwise, how would they? Jack shook the thought of Gibbs sitting up and attacking them out of his head.
"We figured out that no other conventional weapon can stop the bloody things, save for striking the head." Will stated.
"What if we bless things and use them on the un-dead."
"That won't work, Jack." He replied. "You have to perform exorcisms on people of the same religion as the blessing, so wouldn't you have to use weapons against people with tools that are blessed by their religion? (ex: Buddhist blessed object against Buddhist, ect..)
"Not if it's non-denominational." Said Jack.
"How do you know that?" Will shot him a doubtful look.
"I learned that from a mambo, a voodoo priestess of sorts. They call those people of the undead: zombies."
There was a loud crash just below them. All three in the room looked at the floor with anxiety.
"She's in." Said Jack turning towards the door. "Do you know a cleric of any church?" He asked with desperate hope in his eyes.
"I do." Said Elizabeth from the bed.
Both men turned to her. "Where?!" They said in unison.
"Up the road. About Three miles north." She said wiping away her remaining tears.
**********************************************************************
I know it's a bit out there... meh. Please read and review! I do apologize for killing Anamaria. She seems to always die in people's fics... She's not dead in any of my other fics!! I swear!
This was a tylonal PM induced story. That's why it's so special.
Cricket: chirp chirp.
Me: SHATTAP! *Barbosa-like hiss*
Cricket: ...
Me: That's what I thought bitch! *cough* Ahem!
I usually LOATHE crossovers, but I thought this was a good candidate for a crossover with POTC. I didn't, and am not going to go into the future with this, and I am not using anyone from the movie: Dawn of the Dead. This crop of zombies are from the eighteenth century. Wheee!!! Zombies with powdered wigs!!
**********************
Alteng: I must say that I made Liz wimpy in this chapter because it was Anamaria that was the zombie. She was, (I assume), friends with her by now. I would be very upset if I saw my friend like that. I wasn't making her the old 'maiden in distress'. You'll see. Just wait until the next chappie. As for the repetitiveness, I wrote this at three in the morning. I'm not making excuses, I'm just saying because most can relate. I'm changing that anyway, since I've had some sleeeeep. Tell me what you think. :) Thanks for the review, and I'm glad you'll look for more.