***Author's Note*** Just a quick apology for not updating sooner. I finally have another chap. to post! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4: She's Back

I run into the shop just to discover that Amanda and I have wasted our breaths. My boss and owner of J. Brown's is fast asleep, a jug of whiskey clasped in his right hand.

I lay my overcoat down on a wooden block while Amanda moves cautiously towards the drunken Mr. Brown. I then set to work, as does Amanda. My work today is to wield and fashion a new sword while Amanda's is to poke Mr. Brown in the stomach and laugh each time he snores or mutters subconsciously.

Finally, after the 'poker' has been poking and prodding steadily for the passed fifteen minutes, the 'pokee' begins to stir.

"Pirates! Ye be warned!" He hollers, jumping from his chair. I'm taken aback by the comment, Amanda starts to giggle.

"Wha? Whose is there?" He shouts, his eyes darting around the room. I'm surprised by his outbursts; he's been drunk before (on several occasions) but never has he acted so frightened and mad.

"It is Will and Amanda Turner, sir." I speak cautiously while Amanda continues to giggle. Mr. Brown's next words are extremely shocking.

"Turner? Them pirate!"

My daughter stops laughing, her look of bliss instantaneously switches to that of confusion. I watch fearfully as Mr. Brown clumsily draws a sword that I had recently created, from its sheath. A shiver runs down my spine and it is now that I hear Amanda cry to me:

"Daddy, look out!"

I draw the sword I had just been working on in the nick of time. Steel hits steel with a deafening clash and Amanda screams. Brown swings the sword again towards my chest, stepping closer to me this time.

"I'ma gonna send you back ta hell wherer you come from ye bloody pirate!" His words are slurred, his breath reeks of alcohol, and his eyes burn with hatred.

"Amanda," I say calmly. There is only silence. "Amanda, " I speak louder and much more stern, this time receiving a response.

"Ye…yes, daddy?" Her voice is shaky, I can tell she is crying. I speak for the third time.

"Amanda, hun, daddy needs you to leave right now and go find help."

She doesn't answer me but I hear her footsteps run hastily to the door. The door opens briefly and the afternoon sun illuminates the small shop. Then the wooden door closes and darkness falls once again.

I have yet to take my eyes from the short, balding man in front of me. I decide that fighting is not the better idea and so, I try to reason with him.

"Mr. Brown, please. It is I, Will Turner, the same man who has been working for you for nearly ten years."

The older man does not respond. Instead, he swings his sword to my left. As I am faster than he is, I easily block his attack.

"Ye is one of 'em pirates! Once they're get herer, you'll betray us!"

Brown swings the sword to my right and once again there is a clash of metal. Confused by Brown's statement, I decide to risk questioning him on it.

"What are you speaking of? When who get here?"

Another clash of metal as sword meets sword.

"The rest o' them devils like yous! Them pirates are be coming back to Port Royal just like they did them eight years ago!" Brown is fuming.

My eyes widen. That cannot possibly be true. There can be no way that pirates are coming to launch a second attack on Port Royal. The curse of the Black Pearl is lifted and Barbossa's crew dead. They can't be coming back.

"That is not true!" My voice booms and echoes through the room.

Another clash of swords.

"It is true! And you'll help them destroy us all! Just like ye helped that er Jack Sparrow to escape! He will kill us all!" He hurls the sword at my legs and I jump over the blade, feeling it graze the soles of my shoes.

"Jack Sparrow is a good man, there will be no attack on Port Royal, and I am NOT a pirate!" This time it is I who swings my sword first and I send Brown's sword to the ground with a tremendous 'clank!'

At this exact moment, the door to the shop swings open and I watch with anticipation as Commodore Norrington, two other members of the Royal Navy, and Amanda enter.

"Mr. Brown," speaks the Commodore boldly, "you will be coming with us." The two Royal officers that accompany the Commodore cuff the still quite tipsy man's hands and lead him towards the shop's entryway. All the while, Brown hollers and curses.

"He's a rotten bloody pirate! He'll help 'em, I swear 'e will! They're 'a comin'! They'll kill us all!" I can hear him yell still, as he is lead out if the shop and down the street.

"I am regrettably sorry about all of this, Mr. Turner. I am just relieved that your daughter was able to find us. Good day."

"Thank you, Commodore and good day." I say appreciatively, providing a respectful nod.

"Good day to you as well, Miss Turner." Norrington smiled.

"Good day," she replied with a small curtsy.

With a pleasant laugh the Commodore departed.

As soon as I have thrown my sword to the ground next to Brown's, Amanda hurries over to me and I receive a giant hug.

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I try to push Mr. Brown's words out of my mind but the harder I try, the more frustrated I become. I truly want to believe that my now former boss was simply making up stories; he was drunk after all. But there is a part of me that is chilled by the man's words.

'He's a rotten bloody pirate! He'll help 'em, I swear 'e will! They're 'a comin'! They'll kill us all!'

No, I am not a pirate. Years ago it was not a terrible crime to explore the idea of piracy, my own father had been a crew- member on the Black Pearl. Now, things are different. I have a daughter whom I swore to protect, who means the world to me. I want nothing more to do with pirates.

I sigh, Port Royal is safe and there will be no return of Barbossa's crew. Mr. Brown was drunk he knew not what he spoke of.

It is almost midnight and I continue to work. Amanda has long fallen asleep in Mr. Brown's chair, my coat draped over her. Every now and then she will stir or release a tiny sigh but for the most part, she is silent. I yawn and close my eyes for a few seconds debating whether or not I am ready to go home. I jump at the sound of the town hall clock chiming.

One…I put down the sword I have been polishing.

Four…A dog barks somewhere in the night.

Eight…Amanda whispers something that is inaudible.

Twelve…everything has become deathly silent. I hear no people talking or the shop creaking as result of its age and decay. There is absolute silence for a short time; an unmistakably eerie silence that seems to grow by the minute. Becoming wary I lock the door to the shop, making certain that my daughter and I are safe.

Eventually, my unattainable urge to look out into the dark streets wins me over. With a gentle creak, I push the window to the shop open and stare out at the street. The moonlight shimmers strangely on the empty marble street below and the cool breeze blows my long hair around my face. A shadow of what appears to be a stray dog or cat passes in the alley at the end of the street.

I scrutinize the dark street, although I know not what I am looking for. This all seems so familiar to me: the silence, the wind, the shadow, and the moonlight. My mind is flooded with memories and I try to place my finger on the correct one. It takes only seconds for me to realize that this has indeed happened before.

Precisely eight years ago the eerie silence consumed all as it does now. A strange breeze blew that night as if there was a presence unable to be seen with the naked eye. The same chilling breeze blows this night and the same full moon shines brightly in the night sky.

Yes, it was precisely eight years ago that my life changed forever. It was eight years ago that an attack had been launched on Port Royal for the purpose of retrieving a medallion of Aztec gold. Exactly eight years ago the Black Pearl sailed her way into Port Royal for the very first time.

'There is no denying it,' I tell myself. The Black Pearl is back.