~Prologue~
The dark waters churned and thrashed at the sides of the Pearl, waves reaching up as though eager for a treat. Barbossa's leering, yellow teeth swam before Bootstrap Bill Turner's rain-filled eyes. Bill wondered if he was crying. It was hard to tell with all the rain.
"Now, Bootstrap, it's time you learned that there's a new captain aboard this ship," Barbossa sneered, "if I thought there was a better way to teach ye, I would, but ...." his grin broadened, "but I don't think there is, Bootstrap. So I'm afraid you'll have to learn the hard way."
He turned to his crew and yelled, "Bring out the cannon!" Bill began to feel a grain of fear under all his anger and hatred. He'd thought they would just make him walk the plank. What did they want with a cannon?
Two large, ugly men grunted and shoved until they had pushed a cannon to the place where the plank would have been, if it had been there. Bill should have noticed it's absence.
Before Bill had much time to wonder what Barbossa planned to do to him, the four pirates holding him had shoved him foreward. They positioned him next to the cannon, so close to the edge that the toes of his boots stuck out over the roiling water. Bill held his arms stiff, hoping to at least make Barbossa at least have to work a little to tie his hands up. But no one even tried to tie Bill's hands. Instead, he felt something tightening around his ankles. He looked down and had to supress a gasp- Barbossa was laughing at him as two of his crew fastened the cannon to Bill's boots with a heavy leather strap. When they were finished, they poised themselves behind the cannon and Barbossa stood close behind Bill.
One of the men at the cannon gave a grunt that must have meant 'ready'. Barbossa leaned so close to Bill's ear that Bill could smell his putrid breath.
"Goodbye, William," he whispered, and shoved as hard as he could, just as his cronies foced the cannon cannon over the edge. As he fell toward the black water, Bill realized why no one had tied his hands. Barbossa wanted to see him flailing uselessly as the weight of the cannon dragged him under. Bill held his arms resoulutely to his sides and instinctively drew a deep breath as he plunged into the ocean.
Bill had prepared himself for terribly cold water, and brackish salt stinging his eyes. But he felt nothing. Then he remembered. The gold. The curse. For once Bill was glad of it. At least he didn't have to be cold and wet as he died.
He noticed how exraordinarily long he was suddenly able to hold his breath. He wondered how long it would take before he drowned. Well, he decided gloomily, it was no use to put off his fate. He relaxed.
And did not drown. The cannon landed with a thud on a rocky ledge in the dark ocean, and Bill settled on top of it. He was alive. Well, perhaps not really alive, but not dead. It seemed that somehow the curse that was numbing Bill of all feeling was also making him immortal. And unless Barbossa and his crew found a way to end the curse, all he had to do was wait for the leather strap to rot away. That might take some time, as it was very tough leather, but that hardly mattered. He had enough time.
The dark waters churned and thrashed at the sides of the Pearl, waves reaching up as though eager for a treat. Barbossa's leering, yellow teeth swam before Bootstrap Bill Turner's rain-filled eyes. Bill wondered if he was crying. It was hard to tell with all the rain.
"Now, Bootstrap, it's time you learned that there's a new captain aboard this ship," Barbossa sneered, "if I thought there was a better way to teach ye, I would, but ...." his grin broadened, "but I don't think there is, Bootstrap. So I'm afraid you'll have to learn the hard way."
He turned to his crew and yelled, "Bring out the cannon!" Bill began to feel a grain of fear under all his anger and hatred. He'd thought they would just make him walk the plank. What did they want with a cannon?
Two large, ugly men grunted and shoved until they had pushed a cannon to the place where the plank would have been, if it had been there. Bill should have noticed it's absence.
Before Bill had much time to wonder what Barbossa planned to do to him, the four pirates holding him had shoved him foreward. They positioned him next to the cannon, so close to the edge that the toes of his boots stuck out over the roiling water. Bill held his arms stiff, hoping to at least make Barbossa at least have to work a little to tie his hands up. But no one even tried to tie Bill's hands. Instead, he felt something tightening around his ankles. He looked down and had to supress a gasp- Barbossa was laughing at him as two of his crew fastened the cannon to Bill's boots with a heavy leather strap. When they were finished, they poised themselves behind the cannon and Barbossa stood close behind Bill.
One of the men at the cannon gave a grunt that must have meant 'ready'. Barbossa leaned so close to Bill's ear that Bill could smell his putrid breath.
"Goodbye, William," he whispered, and shoved as hard as he could, just as his cronies foced the cannon cannon over the edge. As he fell toward the black water, Bill realized why no one had tied his hands. Barbossa wanted to see him flailing uselessly as the weight of the cannon dragged him under. Bill held his arms resoulutely to his sides and instinctively drew a deep breath as he plunged into the ocean.
Bill had prepared himself for terribly cold water, and brackish salt stinging his eyes. But he felt nothing. Then he remembered. The gold. The curse. For once Bill was glad of it. At least he didn't have to be cold and wet as he died.
He noticed how exraordinarily long he was suddenly able to hold his breath. He wondered how long it would take before he drowned. Well, he decided gloomily, it was no use to put off his fate. He relaxed.
And did not drown. The cannon landed with a thud on a rocky ledge in the dark ocean, and Bill settled on top of it. He was alive. Well, perhaps not really alive, but not dead. It seemed that somehow the curse that was numbing Bill of all feeling was also making him immortal. And unless Barbossa and his crew found a way to end the curse, all he had to do was wait for the leather strap to rot away. That might take some time, as it was very tough leather, but that hardly mattered. He had enough time.
