OptimusPrime2017 presents to you,
A Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic posted on Easter/April Fools;
A Boy Named Jack
Prologue:
A young boy of around ten years old struggled to pull free from a middle-aged man's grip.
"I said I'm sorry!" The boy yelped, yanking his arm free and rubbing his red wrist.
"Sorry isn't enough for knocking me rum from me hands, boy!" The man glared at him.
"I didn't mean to-" The kid was cut off as he got slapped across the cheek.
He landed on his side in the mud. He struggled to his feet, spitting mud from his mouth.
"Sorry doesn't pay for wasted rum." The man snarled. "Ye're Teague's boy, right?"
"Why does it matter?" The boy said in a rough, angry voice.
"'Cause I'll be talkin' to him bout ye."
"No you won't."
The drunk man punched the boy right in the gut, sending him sprawling in the mud again. By the time the boy got up, the man was holding a whip in his hands. He swung it at the boy angrily. It caught him on the chest and he let out a cry of pain as he collapsed back a few feet.
"My father will have you by the throat!" The boy threatened.
He got up, tripping the man, who staggered without falling. He dropped the whip somewhere in the mud, unable to find it. Instead, he grabbed a long piece of wood. He slammed it into the kid's back, making his whimper and fall onto his knees. The boy tried to kick him, but his legs weren't long thing he knew, a hand was on his throat holding him in the air.
"My father won't approve of this!" He half-whimpered, half-threatened. "Let me down!"
The hand tightened on his throat and he began gasping for air. He spotted a sheathed sword hanging from the man's belt. He reached down and grasped it, pulling it free. He stabbed it into the man's chest. The drunk man screamed in pain and let go of the boy. They both crumpled to the ground in heaps. The man's breathing came to a stop, his body covered in his own blood.
"Jack!" A rough, worried voice came. "What have you done?!"
"Dad?" The boy whimpered, glancing towards the entrance of a bar.
The man raced over to his side, searching him. When he saw the gash on his chest and the bloody scrape on his back, he shook his head. "Are you alright?"
The boy threw his arms around his father, crying slightly from fear of what'd happened. "H-he had me by the throat!"
"You're alright now, Jackie boy." The man assured his son, though he seemed to be trying to reassure himself as well. "You're alright now."