Disclaimer:  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Yeah, right. . .

AN:  The end is near.  Okay, so I'm thinking that there's only going to be a few more chapters left of this part of the story.  Maybe two or three chapters depending on how long I can manage to draw this last part of the story out.  But, like I said there will be a sequel, and I already know what's going to happen in it!  I hope it'll be as good as this one!

PineAppleLint:  That sword didn't hurt when it fell down, did it?  I certainly hope not!  I thought that the whole not being "seen" thing was pretty good too!  And as for the Jack Sparrow blow up doll?  I'd buy one!  I'd be the first in line!!!!! ; P

JaneBooth:  thank you so much!  I love being called bloody brilliant!  I'm glad that you like the chapter and I thank you for offering a suggestion for a name for the second part of my story, I shall consider using it. 

P.S. You're not psychic, are you?

"There are only four questions of value in life, Don Octavio.  What is sacred?  Of what is the spirit made?  What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for?  The answer to each is the same: only love."

~Johnny Depp in Don Juan DeMarco

Sui Generis

Chapter 11: Torture

Lor's eyes opened slowly.  At first, she was disoriented, unsure as to where she was, and then a burning pain erupted in her left arm.  She shifted her body groggily, attempting to steal a glance at her arm.  As soon as she caught sight of the three slender burn marks on her arm, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away.  Even when she had been branded with the pirate mark all those years ago, she hadn't been in this much pain.

"Ya weren't very much fun, lass.  Ya didn't scream nearly as much as ya should've."

Lor's eyes snapped open as she turned her head towards the voice.  Skinner sat across the cell from her, using a knife to clean beneath his fingernails.  "Sorry ta dis'point ya," she mumbled back.

"S'all right, lass.  There's so much more ta come.  I was actually surprised ya passed out so soon.  I would've thought that the great Lor Adams would've 'eld out a lit'le longer."

"Bugger off," she replied softly.

Skinner laughed and then stood up.  He walked over to her slowly, and then knelt down by her side.  He poked the tip of his knife at her neck gently, and then trailed the knife down her chest until he reached her left thigh.  His other hand caressed the bared skin of her abdomen that was shown because her vest was raised slightly due to the fact that her arms were tied above her head.  "Is that an offer, lass?"

He slammed the tip of the knife into the wood that was showing between her chained legs.  The hand that had been touching her abdomen, moved up underneath her shirt, stopping just at the edge of her ribs.  His other hand grabbed her by the chin as he lowered his face to hover above hers.  "Do you know how much fun it would be to break yer pride?"

"Go ta hell."

"Already been there, love, thought it rather nice."

Lor glared up at him.  "I told you that you have no right to call me 'love'."

"Ah, yes, which brings us back ta the whole you 'avin a man thing.  So tell me, lass, who is 'e?"

"Someone who's goin' ta kick yer ass, Skinner.  Ya made a mistake takin' the children."

Skinner laughed.  "So they're 'is kids, eh?  Never thought you'd go fer a married man."

"Alex an' Emily are not his.  They are the children of two of his close friends.  If he doesn't kill ya, then they will."

"Only ta revenge the children?  What about you, lass?  Does he care about you, or is it more of an unrequited love?"

"It's none of yer damn business," she replied angrily.

Skinner leaned in close to her ear.  "'As 'e kissed ya yet, lass?  'As 'e touched ya?  Or do ye save those only fer yer drunken one night stands?"

Lor's eyes darkened as anger filled them.  "Get away from me."

"Once again you are in no position ta make demands," he replied, and then covered her lips with his in a rough kiss.

Lor opened her mouth slightly as if to allow him access to her mouth, and then bit his lower lip hard, drawing blood.  Skinner pulled back and backhanded her across her cheek.  "Bitch!" he said, and then grabbed her left arm and squeezed.

Lor fought back the scream of pain that threatened to explode from her throat.  "Fer that lass," Skinner said, wiping the blood off of his lip.  "Ye'll pay."  With that, he reached out and pulled his knife out of the wood and placed it on the skin of her shoulder.

Her eyes narrowed as she tried to hide the pain as he slowly slipped the edge of the blade into her skin.  "An' fer that, love, ye'll die even slower than planned."

He dug deeper into her flesh and she was unable to hold back any longer.  A shrill scream of pain erupted from her mouth.

Jack bolted up in his bed, a cold sweat running down his back.  He jumped out of his bed and stumbled across his cabin, making his way over to the door.  He threw the door open and once again stumbled out of his cabin, walking quickly up to the deck.

  Jack tripped over a bundle of rope and fell onto the wooden deck.  He pushed himself up against the edge of his ship, clutching his left arm against his side as best he could with the sharp, stabbing pain in his right shoulder.

Will had been standing at the helm when he heard the crash on the deck.  When he looked down he had seen Jack fall.  "Jack!" he called and ran down the stairs to kneel at the older man's side.  "Jack, are you all right?" he asked, gripping Jack's arm.

Jack flinched as pain coursed through his arm.  He swatted Will's hand away with his other hand.  "Don' know lad," he whispered.  "So much pain . . . taste blood . . . won' stop 'urting."

Will pulled Jack's shirt sleeve up to look at the arm he was clutching.  His brow furrowed as he took in the plain, tanned arm.  "There's nothing there.  I don't understand."

"Not my pain," Jack whispered again.  He gasped for a moment, trying to breathe with his raw lungs.  Moments later, the pain passed and he could breathe normally.  "I can 'ear 'er in me 'ead, lad.  She's callin' ta me."

"Lor?"

"Aye.  'E's 'urtin' 'er.  'Urtin' 'er bad.  She's passed out, now, pain's gone."

"He's torturing her?  To get the map?"

Jack nodded.  "Aye, but she'll hold out.  Just long enough fer us to get where we're goin'."

"And where's that Jack?"

"To me cabin, right now, lad.  I'll tell you, the missus, an' the Commodore all of it in the mornin'.  Now, be a good whelp an' help an injured man to 'is room."

Will shook his head slowly, helping Jack to his feet.  He put his arm around Jack's waist and helped him to walk to his cabin and lay back down among the soft sheets of his bed.

Tears formed in Lor's eyes as Skinner once again placed the hot iron bar on the wound that he had just carved.  He smirked down at her as he noticed the tears.  "Does it 'urt?"

"Go ta 'ell," she whispered weakly.

Skinner laughed.  "Not much fight left in you, eh?  You could end all this, y'know.  All you 'ave ta do is give me the map."

"I see yer lip stopped bleeding.  I'm so glad."

His eyes narrowed slightly.  "I would not goad a man who 'olds yer life in 'is hands.  Or do ya still 'ave 'ope that yer man'll save ya?"

"My crew will save me," she said softly.

"Ah, yes, the crew that was miraculously saved off of that island that I left 'em on.  'Ow did they do that, by the way?  Was it the same one who rescued you?"

Lor fought back the darkness that attempted to take her against her will.  "Sea turtles," she whispered.

Skinner laughed again.  "Sea turtles?  Very funny lass.  Very funny, indeed," he replied and stared down into her glazed eyes.  "I will find out who saved ya, and then I will hunt 'im down an' kill 'im."

"Good luck.  S'not that easy ta kill," she replied, drifting off into blissful unconsciousness.

Will sat next to his wife in Jack's cabin, his hand grasping hers.  Commodore Norrington stood behind them, his arms behind his back.  He stood there stiffly, his eyes on Jack Sparrow, waiting for him to speak.

Jack sat, slouched, in the large chair behind his desk.  He looked into each of his guest's eyes, taking in the emotions that hid in each of them.  Will's eyes held concern for his children, and anger at the man who had the gall to take them.  Elizabeth's eyes held worry for her children as well and the slightest bit of sympathy.  Norrington's eyes conveyed disgust at having to work with a pirate, and distaste at having to quarter on a pirate ship.  Jack's own eyes, he knew, conveyed first and foremost radiant anger and, hidden deep in their depths, was pain.

"I guess there's no point in puttin' it off any longer, eh?" he asked.

"Where are we going, Captain Sparrow?" Norrington asked.  "It has been almost a week now, and you have yet to tell us why we are going in the opposite direction than the Sui Generis was seen going."

"Like I told you before, Commodore, I know where they will be going."

"Where is that, Jack?" Elizabeth asked.

"To an island in the middle of the Caribbean," he replied, and before anyone could say anything else, he continues.  "It's an unnamed island.  Lor told me to go there if Skinner ever found her."

"But why would she tell you to go to that specific island?"

"That island is the one that is shown on her back, the one that has the X on it."

Will shot him a confused look.  "She showed you where the treasure was?"

"Treasure?" Norrington asked, rolling his eyes.  "I should have known."

Jack ignored him.  "No, lad, she didn't.  Remember, she told us that the map was jumbled; it didn't show the true location unless she willed it.  She showed me that map, an' told me that she would give me one week to get to the island an' wait there for her."

"I do not understand," Norrington said.

Jack nodded his understanding.  "Lor 'as a map on her back.  Skinner wants it, although he has no idea that it's on her back.  She said that in one week, no matter what Skinner does to her, she would show him the false map and lead him to the island."

"Where we will be waiting," Will finished.

"Aye, exactly where we'll be waiting."

Lor opened her eyes to the dim light of the brig.  Her muscles were sore from never being able to move from the spot where she was chained.  The many burns, cuts, and slices that she had received from Skinner caused pain to course throughout her body.  Her newest wound, the one on her right hand, ached as a cold breeze filtered down the stairs. 

Skinner had unchained her right arm to inflict more of his beloved torture on her, and she had pooled together the last bit of strength she had to try and punch him.  He had blocked her punch, and then with one of his famous acts of cruelty, stepped on the hand that she had thrown at him.  While it hadn't hurt as much as the burns or the knife wounds, she had cried out when his foot had crushed her hand.

It had been one week since Skinner had attacked Port Royal and taken her and the children.  One week since the torture had begun.  She gave a small smile; it was time to put her plan into action.  Two days earlier, she had asked Skinner about the children and he had told her that, as he had promised, they were unharmed, locked in a cabin next to his own.

"You've held out much longer than yer father lass," Skinner said, entering the cell.  "I'll give ya that much."

"He was stronger than I am," she whispered, her throat raw from screaming and the little water that Skinner had given to her throughout the week.  "If you once again swear not to harm the children, I will show you the map."

Skinner's eyes narrowed, and then a smirk crossed his lips.  "I swear on the Code lass."

"Then sit me up."

Skinner hesitated, staring down at her.

"You want the map, do you not?"

After a moment, Skinner walked over to her and knelt down.  He unchained her arms and lifted her up roughly, causing her to let out a hiss between her teeth.  She turned around slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye.  "Lift up the back of my vest."

Skinner did as he was told, a smirk crossing his face, and then stared down at the intricate designs on her back.  "The map was on yer back?  I should just take in an' throw you overboard."

"Do so, Skinner, and you won't get the treasure.  I'm sure you can read the top of the map."

Skinner ran his finger over the words that were tattooed there.  "'Blood of the Chosen must be spilt'.  So I need yer blood, then lass?  Not you, only yer blood."

"Only I can open it Skinner.  The seal needs fresh blood, not cold."

Skinner's arm wrapped around her waist roughly and pulled her back against his chest.  She cried out softly as his calloused fingers hit one of her wounds.  "Then you'll live, lass," he said into her ear.  "But only until we reach the island.  Until then, though, you will make up for all the trouble you've caused me."

With that, he jumped to his feet and left the cell, locking it behind him, leaving her arms free, but her feet still chained to the floor.

AN: Chapter 12: The Island Nears.

AN2:  I'm sorry!  I know I had originally called this chapter "The Island Nears", but then I thought that "Torture" would be a much better title!  For one thing, the first name that I had thought up (The Island Nears) sounded too much like the story was coming to an end in like the next two chapters!  So I changed it.  Sorry if I confused you! XP 

Plz r/r!