The moment Jack boarded the Black Pearl, he knew something wasn't quite right. The
feel was wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Once he climbed onto the deck,
he realized what it was; the birds were silent, the wind wasn't blowing, and his crew was
nowhere to be seen.


"Captain!"


Jack started at the sight of Anamaria, who normally seemed right at home at the docks of
Tortuga, but was now racing towards him as fast as she could from below deck, confusion
showing on her face, distinctly. Worry.


"What's wrong?" Jack inquired.


"While you were gone, I found - well - you better come look at this." Anamaria gritted
her teeth and stared off as if trying to distract herself, motioning for Jack to follow her as
she stepped backwards towards the trap door.


"Where is everyone?" Jack asked, harshly.


"They're not back yet, but that doesn't matter right now; come, quickly!" The lady pirate
seemed extremely agitated as she grabbed a hold of Jack's arm; something she was
normally not accustomed to doing; and pulled him behind her. The captain noted that her
grip was terribly tight.


Jack followed Anamaria, running at her heels to keep up, as if what she wanted to show
him would disappear at any moment. Weaving down the passageway and past a few
rooms, she came to an abrupt halt in front of a far wall. Jack merely stared at it for a few
minutes. Both pirates just stood in silence, Anamaria shaking slightly.


On the wall in the lowest level of the ship, was a message, clearly written in artery blood.
The sour, bitter smell was familiar enough, the color was lurid and there were blotches of
something thick among some of the dripping letters. It read: Sail East and find me. Sail
West and save a comrade. Kindest regards; Jack Sparrow.


"I just came back and found it here," Anamaria whispered docilely. "What does it mean?
He signed your name."


Jack continued to observe the writing with lowered eyes, making no indication that he
had heard a word she had said. He felt a thin hand on his shoulder, icy fingers muss
through his hair, gray fingernails sharply cut, strong fingers that could crush bones, saw
the glint of a steely brown eye reflecting the most violent of images imaginable, heard a
voice in his ear; You cannot escape death...


"It's his name," Jack whispered back.


Suddenly, something relatively the size of a dog fell from the ceiling right at Jack's feet;
unnoticed up until then. He leapt back in alarm and gawked at the awful sight; what was
left of a young girl, age unintelligible as her features were so gruesomely distorted. The
child was covered in blood, even her hair was matted thickly with it. Her neck was bent
so that even though her body lay crumpled on it's stomach, her eyes stared up blankly at
the captain, seeming to glow among all the red smeared on her mutilated face. Oh, the
child must have been screaming, what a gaping mouth, what a terrified expression...


"Fetch the crew," Jack ordered weakly, almost monotone. He couldn't pry his eyes from
the dead girls'.


"Aye," Anamaria breathed, unmoving.


"Don't worry about me; go!" he said, gaining back most of his captain superiority. The
lady nodded once and hastened up the stairs two at a time.


When he was finally alone, Jack made it to the nearest chair and set himself rigidly on it,
clenching and unclenching his fists, remembering the man; thin, yet strong, evil, twisted,
corrupt; death followed him everywhere, his own body stank of the blood he always
shed... Coldness, darkness, emptiness, it was all just being in his presence, you felt it
pulsing from him, one look and you're frozen to your spot, all courage gone, all dignity
forgotten, you're lost in his company, you're trapped, suffocating... Rough, icy hands...
Jack felt them now, it was almost real, so real, he could smell the rancid breath, hear the
haunting words; die, escape, never, suffer...


"Which is the right path to take?" Jack asked nobody, hollowly repeating the old psychics
words. "I won't know until it is too late." He sat stock still, staring, thinking, and finally,
made his decision. "We go East," he snarled to himself, standing and hurrying to the
ship's deck, where he waited for his crew to come.






A/N: You like? Hmmm...? Please review! Thank you! :D