Chapter 17: Point Of Origin

Bootstrap Bill Turner couldn't say he very much understood what was going on. Not so long ago, he was Davvy Jones' prisoner and in the middle of becoming one with his ship to an extent he couldn't tell who was who, which side they were on, and couldn't even remember what he, himself done with only moments in between. Then all of a sudden he returned back to human form without much explanation and the son he thought was dead, having been taken down by the Kraken, dumped him on the West Coast of Scotland. Some of the rest of the crew remained bound to the doomed ship and Bootstrap didn't think that was a good sign either as to what the captain of the Flying Dutchman was. Once again, Bootstrap Bill Turner had trouble recognizing his son. The features were there, yet William was enveiled by some shadow of greyish green tentacles, thus far not there for everyone to see, but a man like Bootstrap, used to see the changes in men aboard the Dutchman could already imagine it happening a few months down the line. Now here he was, at the bottom of the ocean where Barbossa once sank him tying him to a cannon ball for standing up for Jack. Thanks to Johanna Sparrow this time, he was back at the same place. What was wrong with this family? Oh, well, there you go, a foremast with a sharp like jaw. Back to the Dutchman now as well, is it? But wait! Was it at the right angle? And what, or who were those charred shapes he could not identify? It was hard to put two and two together, how could the Dutchman be so severely damaged? But now that he knew what he was looking for, he could see that much of the hull had been torn away as well. What the hell was the meaning of this? Other than the aftermath of some big explosion. He rubbed his jaw nervously. And the blood floating, coloring the water? Who's was it? He almost tripped over some forms.

"Do you remember me?" Asked one of them.

It was Sam, from the locker. They met occasionally when the crew of the Dutchman was ordered by Davvy Jones to deposit someone there.

Bootstrap shook his head. He didn't understand anything. The world kept turning upside down and somebody had forgotten to keep him up to date. "Where's the captain?" Maybe Will'd explain some things to him this time. His eyes followed where Sam was pointing.

From the way the suckered tentacles were moving, it was hard to tell whether there were four or five of them. Cuttle fish like beasties with long tails, razor sharp teeth and large eyes. Krakens! Smaller than the one he'd seen before and summoned himself with the hammer on Davvy Jones' orders, but still the size of a well built person.

Bill Turner had no intentions to stay close by. However, he caught a glimpse of the man lying unconscious under the swarming chaos of squid body parts. Long brown hair, a touch of a mustache, clutching a knife that he'd probably tried to defend himself with. A blade Bootstrap Bill recognized as his own, it was the one he'd given to his son before he escaped from the Dutchman.

The small Kraken's suction disks, powerful enough to pull a human face to the point of leaving it with skin folds, layer-over-layer, were all over the man lying on deck. Yet William was unharmed by them. In fact, the Krakens floated off him and he seemed nothing more than asleep, with a smile on his soft, content face.

The krakens followed each other quickly, shooting off towards their mother. She rounded them up with a long tentacle and for a moment, they looked as one, slowly lulling themselves from one side to another in an undercurrent.

"The babies needed fed," Sam explained to Bootstrap. "And what is there more powerful to feed on than a black magic heart? It's done now, there's not an evil bone left in William Turner. He can be who the captain of the Dutchman's supposed to be, the ferryman, doing his duty, nothing more."

The big Kraken raised another tentacle as if waving at Sam, then showed the little ones the way under the damaged Pearl. She, herself, moved under the remains of the Flying Ducthman, and both ships started to be getting lifted out of the water.

"What of Jack Sparrow?" Bootstrap finally remembered how and by who's hand he ended up in this situation.

"I don't know," Sam shrugged, nodding his head towards a direction behind himself.

Bootstrap now noticed half of Jack's body peeking out from under some rubble, including the wheel. If he wasn't dead, he sure made a good impersonation of it.

Tbc