Jack could only stare in shock and horror at the island native. In all of his travels, Jack had never seen a more gruesome or fearsome looking person than the one standing in front of him.

The native was near six feet tall. His black, matted hair went just past his ears, and covered the top of his yellow, fox-like eyes. He had high cheek bones and a prominent chin. A jagged scar wound its way down his face, between the eyes, over his nose, and down one of his cheeks. Jack nearly gagged when he saw the bones pierced through the native's nose and ears. He had broad shoulders and a well muscled chest that was covered in scars. Some of the scars showed up white against his dark skin, and made the skin appear hard and rough. The native wore just a loin cloth, and Jack paled when he realized it was made of human skin.

Jack glanced around and saw the rest of his crew gathered together behind the native. They had their hands on their swords, ready to spring into action in order to help their captain. Jack just gave them one of his trademark smirks as if to say, I can handle this.

"Nothin' to worry 'bout now," He said, his hand slowly moving to his pistol. "We'll on'y be here a day or so..."

Suddenly, before he could even get a hand on his pistol, the native had a spear under Jack's jaw, dangerously close to drawing blood. Jack gasped, afraid to even breathe for fear that he could end his life with a single move. He looked up into the native's eyes, and he instantly knew that nothing good could come of this.

Without warning, the village sprang to life with war cries and screaming. Native warriors, looking exactly like the one in front of Jack, jumped out from behind buildings and large boulders. Some of the warriors along the top of the wall began shooting arrows towards the pirate crew. Women came out of the what looked like abandoned homes carrying torches and started to make a large bonfire.

Chaos and confusion blinded Jack as he felt a pair of strong hands grab his arms and drag him backwards. He tried to reach for his sword but to no avail. He began to fight back in an attempt to free himself, but he only earned a dizzying punch from his captor. His ears were ringing with the war chants and the screams of pain and suffering. Jack desperately tried to keep his eyes closed, but he had to see how his crew was fairing.

The sight almost made him sick. There were too many warriors, all of the viciously fighting against his valiant crew. The warriors were easily overtaking them with their spears and swords, along with the help of the shower of arrows. Jack stared helplessly at the fallen crew members thrashing on the ground, desperately trying to rid themselves of the arrows sticking out of their chests. Their painful shrieks filled the air until one of the warriors decided to end their misery by stabbing them with their own swords.

Swords clashed and rang throughout the air as warriors and pirates fell. Blood covered the ground and the flickering flames from the fire cast eerie shadows along the high rock wall. The chanting grew louder as rain began to fall, mixing with the blood and causing it to run in small rivers.

Jack had to force himself from getting sick at the sight as two warriors dragged him towards the center of the village. Arrows barely missed them, but the screams confirmed that they had hit someone. Jack fought against his captors. He dug his feet into the ground but he slipped in the bloody mud. The warriors picked him up, and held him at knife point, forcing him to walk.

Jack saw his crew, well, who hadn't been killed off, yet. They were all captured and struggling against their captors hold but to no avail; the warriors were too strong. Finally, the warriors grabbed a young sailor Jack had picked up in Tortuga.

The warriors tied his arms behind his back and forced him to his knees. One native grabbed his arms while another grabbed his head, and together, they forced him face first into the ground. The one holding the boy's head moved his hands to the boy's shoulders as they kept him pinned in the mud.

Then, Jack saw what they were going to do. An elegantly dressed native, who Jack assumed was their leader, stepped forward with a club.

"No! Fight back, lad! Fight back!" Jack yelled before being dealt another dizzying blow.

The boy began to struggle against the strong hold as he too realized what these cannibals were about to do. He managed to turn his head upward and let out a blood curdling, hair rising scream.

"No! Help me! Please!"

The warriors quickly regained control and shoved his face back into the mud, muffling his screams. The leader stepped forward and the chanting grew louder and faster. The natives began dancing, some of the shrieking was their leader raised the flub. The flickering flames made the cannibals look even more frightening as they continued to shake. They rolled their eyes in to the back of their heads, all the while their chanting continued to gain momentum.

Just when Jack thought the chanting couldn't get any louder, it stopped. The swishing sound of the club was heard, followed shortly by the sickening crunch of the victim's skull. Jack saw the boy's body go limp as a pool of blood formed near his head.

A victorious roar went up from the natives as the warriors holding down the boy picked up the useless body and threw him at the large bonfire.

The two men holding Jack captive then tied Jack's hands behind his back as he struggled to break free. Jack fought the entire way as they pulled him down onto his knees. He desperately tried to stand up but was hit on the back of the head so hard that black spots danced in front of his eyes. Jack fell onto his face, blood and mud clinging to his beard and hair and covering his face. The stench of blood immediately filled his nostrils and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. A chill went down his back as fear ran through his veins.

Once again, the chanting grew, gaining momentum as they celebrated the first kill and eagerly awaited the second. The excited shrieks filled the air and drowned out the terrified screams from the pirates. Jack continued to struggle against the strong hold against his body. The stench of blood was sickening, too much. He just wanted to black out, to not feel anything, to die.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blood covered feet of the cannibal leader. He heard the eerie chanting. He smelled the blood. He feared for his life.

Elizabeth. I love you.

Jack closed his eyes, not wanting to see the club coming down and crushing his skull. He filled his mind with thoughts of Elizabeth in an attempt to escape this horror. He knew there was no way he'd be able to get out of this one.

As the chanting reached its climax, Jack could sense the leader raise the club high overhead once again. Then, the chanting stopped...

...and a gunshot was heard.

A/N: Who fired the shot? Any guesses? Let me know what you think!