Summary: "He had tried to negotiate with the masked assailant, but the man hadn't paused to even consider a word he said." Jack and the crew work to escape a relentless hunter. One-shot. Sparrabeth. Post AWE.
Prompt: Write a story that takes place in the woods.
A/N: I've had this one in mind since like December. Finally writing it.
Fear The Hunter
Captain Jack Sparrow hared through the trees as fast as he could, the towering form of a masked man slowly pursuing him through the darkness of the night. Blood leaked from a large gash in his stomach, inflicted by the ax in his pursuer's grasp. One of his own hands clutched at the bleeding wound, the crimson liquid staining his skin. If anyone asked him, he'd never admit it, but he had never been more terrified in his life; not even in the face of Davy Jones himself.
His breath came in gasps as he ran, for the wind had been knocked out of him at the blow he had taken. He had tried to negotiate with the masked assailant, but the man hadn't paused to even consider a word he said; the man was relentless. And I haven't even done anything to offend him yet!
It really wasn't looking good at all.
He stumbled on a root, not having any time to regain his balance before he toppled to the forest floor with a grunt, a newfound wildfire tearing through his torso.
"Jack?" The familiar voice of Elizabeth Swann came from ahead.
Oh bugger. The crew. He'd forgotten about them. And we thought it best to leave out weapons back on the Pearl. Bloody stupid idea.
"Go!" He gasped out, panting as he planted a bloodied hand on the tree beside him to use to pull himself back to his feet. "Someone go back an' grab a bloody pistol from the ship. The rest o' ye find somewhere to lay low. Now!"
The pained desperation in his voice must had been enough to convince them that something was going drastically wrong, for he heard them scrambling to do as ordered. God, he hoped at least one of them would be brave enough to indeed go and retrieve the pistol he'd spoken of- they were in dire need of it.
Jack hauled himself to his feet, cautiously glancing around for the man who had been in pursuit of him. He swallowed, shuddering once he realized that the figure was not in sight. He guiltily hoped that the assailant had changed targets onto one of the others. He'd already achieved death once, he didn't wish to experience it a second time. And especially not here, in this horrid place. He'd rather jump into the Kraken's maw again than be butchered like an animal.
Clutching feebly at his stomach, he dragged his feet as he continued his journey through the trees, this time set on finding a proper hiding place. Walking around in plain sight would do him no good, as it was clear that the aggressor knew these woods well. He needed to hide and regain what he could of his strength while he waited for someone to retrieve that pistol.
God, I really hate it here.
He pulled his dark coat tighter around his shoulders, hoping it would help to catch the blood dripping from his body. He did not wish to leave a trail behind to lead the mysterious masked man straight to him.
His energy and drive faded the longer he walked. He was growing weaker by the minute.
The pirate captain froze on the spot, his knees trembling slightly, at a sudden howling of pain that came from somewhere off to his right in the near distance. He could hear the voice of one of his crew members begging for mercy, to be spared. Silence followed.
He licked his dry lips, leaning heavily against a tree for a long moment as the harsh truth set in on him.
This man, whoever he was, was not going to stop until every last member of the Pearl's crew had been killed. They clearly couldn't run. And they certainly could not hide their lives away in this forest.
They had to find a way to kill him if they were going to escape.
Jack hoped that it was possible. If not...they were all going to die, every last one of them.
He looked up to the sky, catching a glimpse of the bright moon behind the tops of the trees. He silently prayed to Calypso that all would end well, not caring that she was a sea goddess and that they were not at sea.
When he began moving again, he veered off left, away from the site of the deaths of the two men. He knew that their assailant would be over in that direction, therefore he found it wise to travel in the opposite direction.
Each step he took was shaky. He feared that his legs would give out on him and he would fall, left to wait to be discovered and killed. Nonetheless, he continued on. He could not stop if he had any chance at escaping the horrid place. He had to find a temporary hiding spot to rest and regain his bearings in before he did anything.
He was relieved when the moon illuminated the shape of a log cabin in a small clearing not far ahead of him. Though it was likely that the man hunting him and his crew would know of it and make sure to check it, the small building had to have some sort of useful supplies. At the very least, something to wrap around his wound and a few spots to tuck himself in until morning. He slipped through the trees at the edge of the clearing, circling the cabin to make sure the small glade looked safe enough to walk out into.
Once he deemed it to be clear of anything that would further harm him, he slid from the cover of the trees and hurried across to the building that would shelter him.
Jack found the door to be unlocked and opened it, squeezing inside and shutting it behind him so as not to make the place look suspicious to anyone that would be a danger to him. His legs gave out as soon as the door shut and he collapsed to the dusty wooden planks that made up the floor.
He let himself lay there, eyes scanning the main room. Judging by the size of it, there were about four other smaller rooms at most. There had to be somewhere for him to hide.
He was too weak to go searching for supplies, so when he dragged himself to a wall and staggered to his unsteady legs, he settled on hunting for a place to hide. The crimson stain on the floor left by his wound made him grimace and hope that no one would see it, as did the handprint left on the wall. There was no way he'd be able to defend himself if he were found by the masked man, and he was fairly certain that he would be unable to outrun him at that point.
The floorboards creaked as he searched the cabin up and down for any spots he could squeeze his lithe form into. There really wasn't too much to choose from; a few empty wardrobes and space underneath a couple of beds. At least the windows opened. He could use them as a backup escape route if needed; he was positive the mysterious killer would never fit through them.
He ultimately decided to lay down and scoot himself underneath one of the beds. It wasn't incredibly comfortable, but he knew that he would never be able to remain upright if he chose to hide in one of the wardrobes. So, he lay on his back and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall into a light doze. He just hoped he'd wake from it.
Jack must have indeed fallen asleep, for he never heard anyone enter the cabin. He awoke to someone carefully pulling him out from beneath the bed. His stomach burned in agony. He fought to blink his eyes open and steady his vision on whoever it was who was grabbing him.
He just about melted in relief when he recognized who it was.
"'Lizabeth." He croaked with a sigh.
He heard her let out a breath of joy. "You're alive."
"Good to see ye too." He murmured as his head was laid in her lap.
Elizabeth traced the gash across his stomach, her other hand cupping his cheek to keep his head up. "Who was that man?"
"Ye've seen him?"
She nodded. "He nearly cut my head off."
"I don't know who he is, love, but he's bad news for all o' us." He finally answered her. "That bloody ax of his really packs a punch."
"You're going to die if you don't get help, Jack." She warned him, as if he wasn't already aware of the fact. "We need to get out of here."
"'M not goin' anywhere. Already lost way too much blood to stay on me feet." Jack informed her. "Let's hope someone actually went back to the Pearl."
"I saw Cotton headed that direction when we all split up."
"In that case, I hope he made it there in one piece."
No sooner had the last word left his mouth did the splintering of wood come from the main entrance of the cabin, followed by a loud crashing sound; the masked man had found them.
Elizabeth gasped and glanced at Jack with horrified eyes. He held a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to be silent, and slipped back beneath the bed. He waved at her to slide in alongside him. She quickly obeyed and he wrapped his arms around her middle to make them seem as small as possible, smashed up against the wall behind them.
The floorboards creaked heavily as the man did a quick look around the cabin for any sign of life inside. Just as Jack thought their assailant was about to leave, he heard the footsteps pause in the doorway to the very room he and Elizabeth hid inside of. He clamped a bloodied hand over her mouth as he heard her breathing rise to become more audible. Please be quiet.
His eyes widened as his ears picked up a second set of footsteps. These were softer, like that of a light-framed man. It was no doubt a member of the Pearl's crew…
The swish of the hunter's ax came as it swung through the air at the newcomer. He felt Elizabeth stiffen in his grasp in anticipation of the worst. But the cry of pain from the crewmember never came. Instead, a crack of thunder rang out through the air, loud and clear. A grunt followed, as did a thud as a body hit the floor just outside of the room.
Elizabeth squeezed one of his arms and he released her. His heart almost stopped when she climbed out from beneath the bed, revealing the familiar frame of old Cotton standing in the doorway, standing over the body of their motionless predator. He let out a breath at the sight of the mute helmsman.
Cotton had been just in time.
Jack could barely make out his companion's voice through the dazed relief and pain. He was vaguely aware of getting pulled from beneath the bed once more and propped up to lean against it. His eyes fluttered dangerously, and his head refused to hold itself up.
Their rescuer rested a reassuring hand on one of his shoulders for a brief moment, a gesture meant to comfort him. His mind couldn't process the words that his female companion spoke, much less make out anything she may have spoken to him.
Blood slowly welled up in his mouth and dribbled from his chin.
He could've sworn the end was near.
But, instead of leaving him to die peacefully, Elizabeth and Cotton hauled him up between them and began to drag him along. He sputtered, almost choking on his own blood.
They left the cabin.
Elizabeth occasionally shouted out names to alert the remaining crewmen that all was safe once more.
Their group grew a little.
He blacked out just as the salty scent of seawater reached his nose.
He hoped he wasn't dead.
A/N: I know Jason is unkillable, but like- he's not anymore, I guess. So, that's that.