Part 3: Magic Blood

Act 2: That Bad Feeling

Beckett, James, and Elizabeth Jr. all swapped the deck of the Mystical Raider as they got much entertainment from the bickering of Captain Jack, Angel, and their father Will. Gibbs only snored on a barrel, so he was not of much fun. "It is, on no circumstances, my fault you just had to deal with the ghost. One little ghost is nothin' compared to the trash you've left behind!" Angel snapped ferociously.

"THAT IS MY JOB," William stressed. "It is not my fault I can only go on land once every ten years!"

"Actually…" Jack bit his lip.

Will gave Jack a challenging glare. "Oh yeah? Well you didn't have to force me to stab the heart. You didn't have to grow a conscious, Jack!"

"So, in short, it is his entire fault?" Angel directed to Jack.

Jack scoffed, "Is not! I just saved myself from turning into…" He wiggled his fingers under his chin while his wrist was pressed up against it. Even Elizabeth understood this was supposed to represent tentacles.

William shook his hands above his head. "Never mind that! The point is, you did it Jack. I was thrown into this because of you."

"Oh, so you would've wanted to die more than see three new lives?" Jack snapped. "I'm sorry, but I'm a pirate and I find that cold."

"But it's not that cold out," James chuckled.

Angel shook her head and pretended to sew her lips shut towards James. "Okay, I find that cruel then," Jack corrected.

Beckett opened the leather bound pages once more and jotted down some quick notes.

October 17, 1750

NOTES

-Captain Jack Sparrow loves to correct people (even himself)

She shut it and glanced back at the three bickering adults. James and Elizabeth yawned, leaning against each other as their eyes began to droop. Beck saw that this fight wasn't going to let off any time soon, so she shoved both her siblings overboard and walked downstairs to leave the clean-up to the adults. She hopped onto a hammock and started to doodle in the pages of her journal. It went from starfish, to mermaids, even pirates with fangs in their mouths. Beckett didn't understand where that came from, but she quickly dismissed it when moist boots started to produce a 'squish, squash, squish' pattern.

"Beckett…" James growled, holding one wet hand of Elizabeth Turner.

"Yes?" she glanced up blankly, the quill freezing in her hand.

Suddenly, her brother tackled her and they started to brawl, throwing punches and kicks, with the occasional eye poke. Elizabeth sat on the step and stared, her eyes wide and innocent. Angel and Will came down to talk to Beckett, but were tripped by the two rolling children trying to kill the other. The slam woke Mr. Gibbs up and shook Jack in his boots as he stared past the ship railing. Angel and Will fought each other to get up first, that rather amusing to Elizabeth, and tried to pry the bickering siblings apart.

On the Flying Dutchman, old edition, Elizabeth Swann hid in behind a rack of barnacle-infested rum bottles, taking one down at a time to search for any clues as to what would awake the Kraken. She had a few guesses, but she doubted 'WAKE UP' was right. Her finger tips were coated with slime, green crust from barnacles, and a fine amount of dust. She gave off a small sneeze, but covered her nose with her sleeve. She couldn't risk being caught.

Even if she did, she didn't want to think about the consequences. Never being able to see Will again, Elizabeth, James...Beckett…With each child she listed off, her frown deepened. She started to list off the benefits to make her feel somewhat better. She surprisingly found that there was more than there should be.

She could reunite with her father.

She could get away from Jack Sparrow.

She would no longer have to suffer.

She would not have to worry.

Her body raked with a shudder as she counted all possible benefits down. She went back to the down-side column and another shudder shook her. This was not helping her out the least bit. The hatch to the 'rum deck' opened with a 'khack'. Elizabeth Swann shrunk, fingers gripping the shelf behind the bottles and her eyes wide as she stared at the first mate. He stomped in, his lantern swinging left to right with light flashing across the room. He stopped abruptly and turned this way and that, glaring his beady shark eyes. The rows of shark teeth startled her enough to have to cover her mouth.

One scream and she would die. One scream, just one. Even a yelp would do the trick. She tried to stop breathing, but her fingers just shook as a result. A nail tapped a bottle as it shifted with vibrations, making her body run cold. The first mate stopped and turned to the shelf she was hiding behind.

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Oh God, please no! Elizabeth thought pleadingly. Her eyes would not shut. Her lips kept a-trembling. Her fingers resumed quaking activities. The blood in her veins stopped pumping all together. Elizabeth's spine felt frigid, frozen even. It was as if her nerves had shot down and her blood had a heart attack of its very own. Cold sweat dripped from her forehead. The first mate, Marcus if you will, stopped in front of the shelf and sniffed. "…Blood," he stated. His sword swung out of the sheathe as he stabbed it through a gap in the shelves.

Back at the Mystical Raider, the fighting between the adults had been brewed up again; a mere sprout from the James/Beckett brawl. Elizabeth was snoring in Beckett's lap, sucking her dirtied thumb. James patted Elizabeth's hair and watched the fight with his mischievous sister. Clouds were forming above, menacing. "Boy, the weather hate' to stop, don't it?" he grumbled as he saw the green and gray colors clash.

"Aye," Beckett yawned. "Maybe it's 'cause the adults won't shut it?"

James shrugged, not actually knowing the answer. "IT! IS! NOT! MY! FAULT!" Jack roared. "AND IT'S CAPTAIN JACK!"

Gibbs stumbled out of the lower decks and leaned against the rail, the barrels with the three children on top to his left. "And this is why you learn to be adults, youngings," Mr. Gibbs muttered, taking a swig from a sandy glass of rum.

Rum sure never sets home in a clean bottle, does it? Beckett traced back to the tavern days where all bottles of rum she had to deliver she found covered in some material that truthfully did not belong there. She just guessed it was lousy service from Elizabeth's sources, but then Beckett was getting a vague foreshadow that it was a little more than just that. She closed her eyes to be met with an apparition of sorts.

The room was dark, the only source of light a lantern splattered with blood. The boards were green instead of brown. Barnacles had homes on the floors, walls, between the cracks, anywhere they could go, they were. Everything was a bit foggy, blurred, and slurred to puddles of colors. There was a puddle of gray colors that she could guess was that of a hammerhead, but what perked her curiosity was the fact that it had two legs, no tail. "No one's gonna stop the Kraken. Not even you, Miss-"

It was cut off as soon as Gibbs flicked her forehead. "Oye, what's the deal with ye'? Dozin' off already?"

Beckett blinked and shook her head rapidly, turning so she was looking in the direction of pure green clouds. "…I have a feeling Mum ain't living at the moment."

The air was filled with dreadful silence.