Alright everyone, here is the
long-anticipated, and VERY long, chapter 9! Happy reading!
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Chapter 9. A Triumphant Loss
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"YOU BASTARD!" My shrieks were now directed at Tyuktuc. "YOU HEARTLESS BASTARD!"
The Royal Navy officers were quite surprised at a sudden outburst coming from an invisible creature hidden in the growing darkness, and even more so when they recognized me as I raced over to Jack's side. Tyuktuc laughed maliciously and prepared to kill me with his still bloody sword, which as quickly knocked out of his hand by another sword which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
"I would advise you to ne'er do that again, mate," an unfamiliar voice warned. I looked up, eyes littered with angry tears, to see a man who punctured fear into my entire body.
"Bloody... hell..." Jack muttered between short gasps, "you're... not after... me too..."
I stood up to face the man.
"Captain Hector Barbossa, Missy, now I must be asking you to step away from Dear Ol' Jack, there," he said, pushing me to the side. Tyuktuc was no longer anywhere to be seen. The Qakqar had dislodged itself from the Pearl, I noticed, and I assumed they would not sail without Tyuktuc.
I decided we were safe, if not for the time being.
"He's dead! He's dead! The Cap'n is DEAD! We should've all just stayed ashore, never gotten in this mess! Curses! Dammit, Jack, Can't you just stay alive for once?" A crew member bawled.
Captain Barbossa reached for his pistol, rolling his cold, yellow eyes. "Idiot," he mumbled, as he shot the man.
"Is he?" I whispered, fearing the answer. Really, I don't even know why I asked, because standing over Jack I could see his chest uncertainly rising and falling. Probably I just wanted someone to promise me that it would all be okay.
"Of course he is. I'll be damned if I've seen a more incompetent fool in all of my miserable days," Barbossa snapped. At first I felt insulted and I started to rush to Jack's defense, but then Barbossa smirked at me and I realized that he had misunderstood me, and was speaking of the now-dead-mourning-crew-member. "No," he finally continued, "Jack's not dead. Yet. But he will be if you don't get out of my way!"
I jumped aside quickly, allowing Barbossa to drag Jack below decks. I realized my entire body was soaked in sweat and blood, and I did my best to wring out my dress and my hair.
"Are you happy, now?" A cold voice demanded. I shakily turned around, to come face to face with those same haunting green eyes that I saw every time I looked in a mirror. My father wasn't looking at me, but out towards the sea, bluffing indifference. I couldn't, however, bring myself to answer. I suppose in a manner of speaking, yes, I was happy. I was learning independence, I was living my own life with out excess, I was free! But, I had stumbled upon a twisted predicament, and I had recently seen more men killed than I would have ever dreamed possible. I had seen my one and only friend come undeniably close to losing his life. And that, that made me petrified.
"I don't know," I finally concluded.
My father spun, releasing weeks of angst, frustration and anger with a deafening slap to my face. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. I couldn't feel, save the throbbing agony in my left cheek.
"You foolish ass!" He yelled blazingly. "You just had to! You had to run off, be liberated, glorify yourself in your greed!" He spat at me. "Do you know what I am? I am the laughing stock of Port Rae- of the entire Royal Navy! And you-" he said, pointing at me menacingly, "You are a worthless piece of property, a duplicate of your trifling mother."
I, now, filled with vehement hate, seethed back at my father, "You loved my mother; don't you dare say otherwise. If not you would not have mourned her death."
My father laughed, triumphantly. "Why would I mourn over something that I myself did with a purpose?"
Confused now, I let my guard down, slightly, "You killed a lieutenant! A lieutenant who had killed her. That's what you told me! You've never lied!"
"I've never lied," my father agreed angrily. "Who do you think was the lieutenant?"
In complete agony, shock, resentment, and melancholy, my world clouded over, and I knew no more.
---
I awoke with a start, to utter blackness. My breathing was sharp and erratic, full of fear. Where was I? Oh. The fo'c'sle. There was no light, but I could barely make out the shape of the table, so I knew I was under cover. I rustled, and started to stand, but a sudden grasp of my wrist pulled me down.
"Don't-go-outside," A voice, which I recognized to be Barbossa's, hissed. I nodded, faltering, although he couldn't see me. "They're still out there. That blasted Navy," Barbossa cursed.
"Mr. Barbossa, if you don't mind me asking-" I finally managed to stutter.
"Shhh! They'll hear you!"
I kept going, in a smaller voice, "Who are you? And what are you doing here, of all places?"
I heard the man shuffle, and he lit a lantern on the floor between us, which hopefully would not be seen from the outside. I could now see his face again, and I studied it carefully, looking for any trace of emotion. I found none.
"Well, Missy, me and ol' Jack there go way back, we've known each other for nigh an eternity," he explained, "And not long ago, when I was casually making my usual pillaging rounds through the Caribbean, I heard that your father was offering quite the substantial reward for your return, and I took the job, obviously knowing exactly where Captain Jack Sparrow would be headed."
I perked up, realizing that all along, I hadn't even known where we were sailing to, and now I wanted the answer. Barbossa pulled out a bottle of rum and uncorked it, as I rolled my eyes.
"Pirates," I mumbled. Barbossa grinned and swallowed the liquid fire. "So then," I drew back on the subject, "where was it that Jack was headed?"
"Why, Singapore, of course."
I laughed, and just then Mr. Gibbs came crashing in, sweat droplets forming on his forehead.
"They're gone, they're finally gone! God bless us! And Port Rae is a mere 20, no, 18 knots away!" He exclaimed. From a corner of the room I heard a muffled groan, and I supposed it was Jack. I sat up urgently.
"Port Rae? But, we can't be returning!" I said, puzzled.
"Aye, m'dear, that we are," Barbossa confirmed.
Another, louder groan.
"Best speed it up, he's startin' to fade," Barbossa suggested, almost sarcastically, to Gibbs.
"Could this possibly get any worse?" I shouted, clenching my fists and shaking them.
A word of advice: never ask that, because no matter how bad it is, there is no denying it, it can always get worse.
And then, of course, it began to rain.
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Chapter 10 to come tomorrow! Hope you liked it!
