Chapter 9
"Ana ain't like tha'!" Jack protested immediately.
"Really?"
The colors warped once more, darkening mostly to a blackish hue and then forming themselves into a damp hold with a single prisoner tied to a support beam. Jack took in a sharp breath, instantly recognizing yet another part of his past.
The woman grinned harshly, the lantern light casting strange, eerie shadow patterns over her face. "Oh yes, fun…well, for me at least. It's about time you learned your lesson, Jack. And I'll teach you, even if it means tearing you limb from agonizing limb."
Jack shuddered unintentionally, a knot of dark fear growing and constricting in his gut. He felt tendrils of dark energy reaching up from within him, clouding his mind and further hazing all his movements.
"I wonder Jack, what part of your body do you value the most? One would think, given your liking of bedding wenches, that…well, I think you get it. It's pretty obvious given what a woman user you are."
Jack's eyes widened as much as they possibly could as what the other was speaking of hit home. His gaze locked worriedly on the sharp-pronged tongs in Ana's hand and the knife hanging from her belt. "You wouldn'…"
"I would. S'less than you deserve, anyways." Ana hissed, an evil smile playing across her face as she unsheathed the knife with her free hand.
"Either I were more fevered'n I thought, or yer're lying." Jack growled, his tone implying he didn't believe the first choice.
"Deem what you will truthful Jack, but from the way you said that, one would think you don't believe me. Why?"
"D'you really want an answer t' that?"
"What about your faithful quartermaster Gibbs? What about Will and Elizabeth? You know they don't care…they don't care at all, right?"
"Wrong."
The voice's light chuckle echoed as the colors shifted to form a brig on a different ship, though one still prominent in his memory.
"Why should I know?" Jack asked, grinning stupidly.
An echoing crack shot through the previously still brig.
Jack's face was turned so his chin was almost touching his left shoulder. Nine gouges marked from his right temple to the base of his neck where the whip's tips had touched his flesh. Blood soon began trickling from the wounds.
"Feeling more talkative now, Sparrow?" Gibbs asked coldly from his spot off to the side and behind the young blacksmith holding the cat-o-nine-tails.
Jack turned his head back to face his main tormentor and supposed friend. To the surprise of all three, the stupid, characteristic grin reasserted itself on Jack's face.
"Nay." Jack said calmly, grinning more widely despite the pain flaring in his cheek.
Will circled to get behind Jack, who didn't even bother looking behind him, for he had a feeling he knew what was coming next. Sure enough, a few moments later another sharp crack echoed through the brig. Jack flinched violently from the pain the nine lashes across his back caused.
Elizabeth and Gibbs stood before him, reveling in the sound and sight of his pain.
"Tha' wasn't them…" Jack started, his argument trailing off as true confusion set in. It was so hard to separate the real memories from these…if there was such a separation. As far as he could tell, these were the real memories, but… "Tha's not possible…"
"Sorry Jack, but it's more than possible. It's the pure, unassailable truth."
~*~
"Wha' happened t' him? Thought he was jus' gonna take care o' a few things…in Tortuga!" Gibbs asked, crowding towards Ana and Jack inside the captain's cabin.
"Well, if yer askin' how he got here, I've no clue. If yer askin' what this is all about," she said, motioning to the dark purple bruise about Jack's neck, "then I'll tell ye: he were hanged."
~*~
"Enough wit' the past," Jack snarled, the mixture of so-called truths suddenly overwhelming him, making the sound more feral than usual.
"Care to get a glimpse of the future then? It really doesn't matter now that you're dead. Want to see what could have been?"
Jack eyes widened in horror, not wishing to experience could-be memories on top of what he had already seen. "No…please…no…"
Despite his plea, the hues of the world began swirling, mixing, and reforming.
Jack now found himself standing beside the bed in his cabin on the Black Pearl. Everything seemed in order; maps lay across the table, his compass and spyglass resting on top of them. The room was as tidy as always, only his worn tri-corn leather hat resting over the corner of the chair.
Jack lightly stepped over to the large window, staring longingly out at the horizon. A ship not too far off caught his attention and he took in a sharp breath as he realized that the schooner was flying his colors. He spun to face the doorway as he heard the click of the lock.
Ana stepped into the cabin, key in hand. "Commodore, how many times do I have t' tell you tha' lockin' yer door when ye sleep is unnecessary? Th' crew ain't gonna mutiny."
"Commodore?" Jack repeated, confusion making itself clear on his face.