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this chaper is a tad longer:)

CHAPTER 10

Calhoun scrambled to his feet. Arden poked her head up and saw the man still staring down at his hands, turning them over and inspecting them as if he had no idea what they were. He stopped and looked at her, questions dancing on his face. "What happened?" he asked quietly. Arden flinched at his voice. After her previous experience, she didn't want to be anywhere near him for a while. "Did I hurt you?" Arden closed her eyes. He must have registered her fear at his voice. She didn't answer. Slowly, he walked to her and placed a hand her shoulder. She jolted at his touch. He quickly pulled it away. "Are you okay?"

The distraught woman didn't feel like speaking.

"Answer me!" he commanded. Arden's head popped up. His eyes weren't black this time, but they were wider than she would have thought possible. It wasn't fury she saw in his eyes but utter concern. He was shaking uncontrollably. "What did I do?" he asked again. "What's happened?"

Arden shut her eyes. Why was she mad at him? It wasn't his fault. He only acted like that when his eyes turned black, which begged the question: why did his eyes turn black? She locked eyes with him. He obviously had no idea what was happening to him, so why was she acting this way toward him? "You…you tried to…" she couldn't say it. She couldn't say it because she didn't want to believe it.

His threw one of his hands up as if to silence her, which was pointless considering she had already stopped talking. The other covered his mouth. It made a scratchy sound as he rubbed his hand across the stubble on his face. "It can't be true…" he muttered. "It can't be true." He removed his hand. "Did…did I…" he let the sentence hang.

He was having as much difficulty as she was actually saying the words out loud. "You remember?" she asked.

"I…I could see myself, but I had no control, I assure you. I tried to stop, but it was like my body refused to listen." His eyes were pleading with her. "Please. You have to believe me."

It was hard. It didn't matter whether he was in control of himself or not. Either way, it was his hands that had defiled her. It didn't matter because he remembered it. Had he had no recollection at all of it, she would have been more able to forget it. Knowing that he knew only made the situation awkward and embarrassing.

"I might live a pirate's life, madam, but you must know that I would never do such a thing; for even though I sail the seas to plunder and steal, I am still a perfect gentleman…of sorts," he sounded sincere enough. "And I would never force myself upon you, Arden." She looked up. He hardly ever said her name. She nodded weakly. A wide smile spread across his face. "Thank you," he breathed out. "Thank you so much." He knelt beside her, offering her his hand. He assisted her to her feet. Before she could move away from him, he pulled her into a warm embrace. "I'm so sorry." Arden hugged him back. He let her go. "And congratulations," he added, placing his hand on her stomach. Again, she couldn't stop her reflexive flinch. Calhoun jerked his hand back. "Sorry," he laughed. "Water?"

"Yes, please," she replied. Calhoun poured her a glass of water and handed it to her. She took a few gulps. She expected him to say something as she chugged the water, but he was silent. When she removed the glass from her mouth, she saw why.

The glass slipped from her hand. Calhoun, with black eyes, grabbed her by the arm and ushered her out of the cabin. They traveled below decks and to the brig. He opened the door and shoved her inside. She fell to the dirty floor. "I'll be back for you when I have need of you." He locked her in and left. Arden watched him leave, her breaths becoming more rapid. Deep in her heart of hearts, she knew that the Calhoun she had first met was never coming back; he would forever be the black-eyed demon. She dropped her head back on the floor. At this rate, Drake was probably already dead. Arden curled herself onto her side and wailed. This was not the way her life was supposed to be.

Angelica ran topside from the brig. Before she reached her destination, she rammed into Will.

"Oh," he said sullenly, "hi, Angelica. I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

Even with the little light that was there, Angelica could see the distinct redness around William's watery eyes. "It's fine," she answered just as quietly as he had spoken.

"Are you looking for something?" She could tell by his voice that he was only being the polite Will that he was; he didn't actually want to talk to her. Angelica shook her head. William gave her a half-hearted smile.

He stepped passed her, but she told him to stop. When he turned around, she said nothing but took him into a tight hug. "We'll find them, Will. We'll find them," she told him quietly. She didn't say anything about it, but she could feel his tears on her neck.

"He's the Angel of Death, Angelica," he whispered back, his voice thick with sorrow. "And if Death herself can't defeat him, what chance…" he didn't finish, and Angelica couldn't blame him. If it was her, she would have been able to say less than he already had.

"We'll figure something out." The two of them split up, heading in their separate directions.

Angelica turned and watched him stumble against the wall and sink to the deck. He put his head in his hands and wept. She knew she was invading a moment that he deserved to have alone, so she continued her search for Death. Angelica found the redheaded woman at the front of the ship staring out into the ocean, her mind obviously far away from earth. She couldn't help but feel pity for her. Dmitri, the man she was deeply in love with, had turned his back on her. Angelica placed her hand on Death's shoulder. "We need to talk," she stated.

Death turned. "What about?"

Angelica watched Death's facial features closely when she said the next word. "Dmitri."

Death gave no outward emotion. She only replied with, "What about him? Did you come to gloat to me that were successfully stole the man I love from me when I was unable to do the same to you? Because if so, I suggest you back away slowly before I lose my temper and do something that I will soon – well, maybe not soon, but eventually – regret."

"This isn't the time for that," Angelica said, unable to say anything else about Death's threat, which the other woman would definitely be able to accomplish. "I think I know what's wrong."

Death looked at her curiously. "Enlighten me. I cannot wait to hear this."

Angelica huffed. Death's arrogance was just one of the many reasons why she hated her so much. But she had to let it go. She had to help Jack, and if that required Death's help, then so be it. The redhead now seemed impatient. Angelica had to speak quickly, or she would lose all of Death's focus. "Dmitri has done something to possess Jack."

A smile spread across Death's face. "For once, Angelica, could you not act as dimwitted as you look?" Angelica had no rebuttal. She hadn't expected that kind of reaction. Death had caught her completely off guard. "You see, I already know that."

"And you haven't shared this because…"

"The question is not whether Dmitri is responsible. That answer will always be yes. The question is whether it is reversible. And for that, Angelica, we cannot hunt Jack down. For that answer, we must go to Calypso, who will no doubt know what has happened to our dear Jack," Death responded. "I have a feeling that I know why Dmitri turned." Before Angelica could say a word, Death added, "No, I won't tell you. Not yet. Not until I know for sure. But if it's what I believe it to be, Calypso will know how to stop it."

"He's not 'our' Jack. He's mine." Angelica paused. Big picture, she told herself. Jack had mentioned Calypso on occasion, but had never gone into much detail about her. All she knew is that no one had seen her since the Brethren Court had fought the East India Trading Company. "How do you suppose we find her?"

Death nodded to someone behind Angelica. Then she looked back at the Spaniard. "We are already en route to find her. Christopher has agreed to help me. William will understand once we explain to him that it is the best chance of finding his family."

"And how do you know where to find her?" she asked. If Calypso was truly a goddess, how would anyone have been able to find such a powerful creature? Sometimes, Death made absolutely no sense.

"Well, you see, Angelica," Death began, "Calypso was bound to human form and took on the persona of Tia Dalma many, many years ago. We have always had connections, just in case. You can say…we're kind of like business partners in a way." She looked back to the ocean. "You worry about what to say to Jack when we rescue him. I'll worry about how to save him."

Angelica opened her mouth to reply, but didn't want to say anything to Death's statement. She wanted to go mourn her missing friends before anything else got worse.

Elizabeth coughed, clearing her throat. Surely she had heard him wrong. "We're-we're where?" she asked.

Dmitri quietly chuckled. "Like I said, you're under the island, Elizabeth. You didn't hear me wrong. You're not going crazy. You're under the island."

"How –" her voice cracked. She swallowed. "How is that possible?"

"You're standing here, talking to the Angel of Death, wondering how it's possible that I built an underground fortress?" he questioned facetiously. "Have I been in this state for too long, or are humans becoming duller and duller?"

"Will's going to find us, Dmitri, and when he does, he'll kill you," she warned him. "Just let us go."

Forcefully, Dmitri slammed against the iron bars separating him from Elizabeth, causing her to jump back in surprise and fear. Dmitri growled at her. "Don't threaten me." He turned on his heel and walked toward the exit, leaving the lanterns burning as he went. The door slammed shut behind him.

Elizabeth sank down. "Oh, Will," she whispered to her husband who was miles and miles away from her. "Please find us." Within minutes, Willie's breathing evened out, and Elizabeth realized that he was probably asleep. Oh, how nice it must be to have that childlike innocence. If only she could go back to the much easier life when she was a child, before they went to Port Royal. Her father might still be alive. She might have fallen in love with a man that wasn't doomed to a life at sea for all eternity. She could grow old with him and not worry about some strange creature of the supernatural trying to steal his life. Instead of literally having his heart, she would metaphorically have it.

She shook off the thought. Who was she kidding? She loved William and Willie far too much to give up this life. It didn't matter that they would never be old together. All that mattered was that she finally had everything she had ever wanted. She was married and had a son, a gorgeous son. She kissed the top of that little boy's head. She couldn't give this life up if she wanted to. A tear slipped down her cheek. She might not grow old with Will, but she would eventually grow old. The thought had never actually occurred to her, but Will would stay young forever, and could possibly fall in love with another woman.

She had to think about something else. Since she had first been put in this dark hellhole, she hadn't been able to see what was surrounding her. It was the perfect distraction. Turning her head around, she inspected the little cell in which they had been imprisoned and was appalled. Dmitri had placed a bowl of water on the floor. They were not animals. They were humans. Elizabeth felt anger rising up inside of her.

Jack sat in his quarters. It had been hours since he had been in control of his own body, and it was beginning to become eerie. The feeling of submission to one's own body was worse than being attacked through a voodoo doll and being unable to stop it. At least in that situation, it was possible to stop the attacker, but when he couldn't move, there was no way to know what to do to stop it.

His hand reached out and grabbed a bottle of rum. This he was okay with. He popped out the cork and began drinking it. Jack was hit with shock. He couldn't taste a thing. It pushed him over the edge. Not being able to taste his own rum…it was an outrage! He violently flailed around, but it did no good. His body still refused to obey him. Instead, he stood to his feet and left the cabin, the rum (which he still couldn't taste) clasped in his hand.

His first mate Joshamee Gibbs was walking by and stopped. "Cap'n," he said, "where did you say we were headed?"

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack said rudely. "If you intend to remain my first mate, you best pay attention. We are headed to the Spanish port Maracaibo."

Gibbs looked at him weirdly and said, "Jack, what's gotten you upset?" He looked away for a brief moment. "Is it Angelica? Where has she gone? I've not seen her in a while."

Jack tried to scream out to him and get him to understand that something most terrible had happened. But he found himself saying, "Again, Master Gibbs, you are the first mate, and as first mate, you are only entitled to know what I, as the captain, want you knowing. Understand?" Jack walked off, headed to the helm, not knowing he was being followed by Gibbs.

Jack remained oblivious to that fact until Gibbs grabbed his arm. "For the love of mother and child, Jack, what's gotten into you? What's happened?"

Jack fought to tell Gibbs what had happened. He wanted to order Gibbs to knock him out, turn the ship around, and go after Angelica, but he couldn't. "Go to your quarters, Mr. Gibbs." The man grabbed Jack's rum and walked away.

Jack shouted to himself. He had no idea why his self wanted to go to Maracaibo, but whatever the reason, he knew he had to stop it. But he also knew that it was pointless to try. He'd tried many times before, and no good had come from it. Still, he tried his hardest to break free. And still, it did nothing.

The Queen Anne's Revenge was anchored close enough to the port of Guadeloupe in the Caribbean Sea that it would not be a far journey, but far enough away to not be considered a threat. Captain Barbossa and his first mate, Scrum, rowed a dinghy closer to the shore. Well, Scrum did most of the rowing; it was one of the perks of being a captain to force your crew to do the manual labor. Jack the monkey sat on Barbossa's shoulder, eating peanuts as usual. Barbossa wondered if Jack could tell that he was not himself. Scrum seemed rather oblivious, but that was Scrum, the man who almost sacrificed himself to kiss a mermaid that he knew wanted to eat him.

Once they reached the shore, Barbossa and little Jack stepped onto the dock. "Mind the boat," he commanded Scrum.

"Aye, captain," was all he said. He slouched down and tipped his hat over his eyes. It was as close as Barbossa could get at the moment. He didn't have the time to argue. So he continued his single-man invasion into the town.

Now, what was it he was looking for? Ah, he remembered. Wait…how did he remember? Barbossa watched himself, as if he were watching someone else – someone he didn't know – go straight to the merchant. How he knew where the merchant was, he wasn't sure. He had never been in this town before, which was probably one of the reasons he was not being arrested at the moment. No one knew of his treason against the king of England. When he reached the merchant, it took only a few minutes to barter for what he needed: sugar and bananas. These were apparently were the main productions of this town.

The merchant offered to help Barbossa carry the merchandise back. Normally, Barbossa would have stacked the barrel of sugar on top of the crate of bananas and went on his way, but he was unable to refuse the help. The merchant was probably only helping him because he felt bad for the one-legged captain.

When they had dropped the newly bought items into the dingy, Barbossa gave him a curt nod. The man walked off. The pirate proceeded to get into the dinghy. After grabbing and oar and hitting Scrum in the head to wake him up, Scrum took the oars and rowed back to the Queen Anne's Revenge. Barbossa sat, unable to move, wondering why on earth he had gone out of his way to sugar and bananas. The best he could manage was that his new self knew what was going on, even if he didn't. The thought filled him with dread. When would he be in control of himself again? That woman had done something to him; he was sure of it.

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