A/N- K, I'd like to thank my three wonderful reviewers' Anime-and-Toons, C. Meg Sparrow, and Goth Princess, you guys are awesome and I hope you continue reviewing, I love knowing what you think. If you ever get tired of waiting for my next Fanfic chapter, I have an account on Fiction-press, under the name Paragon Lightly, most stuff is kind of weird but I'm just giving you all some information. Ok, this chapter we find out the true reason behind Demora's overprotection of the map- enjoy!

Chapter Five: Damned, but not forgotten.

Damon had somehow managed to sneak back onboard The Traveler and stow himself away without being seen, now his only worries were being snuffed out by Demora's little pest Desmond, or worse…being found out by Demora herself; she wouldn't hesitate to shoot him, and if her first shot didn't kill him, she'd shoot him again.

Stowed tightly away between the walls of Demora' cabin and the gully, Damon had a chance to spy his sister as no one had in years.

She was miserable, if that word could be used to describe drinking like a fish and sobbing darkly- then yeah, she was miserable.

Damon hadn't seen Demora cry in fifteen years, and she had only cried then so that their father would take her with him.

Why was she crying now?

Desmond, the white ferret from Hell, scurried to Demora's side from a tunnel of intricate tubes leading from the main deck to a small corner in the cabin ceiling. Demora patted his head gingerly before confessing her troubles:

"I don't want this gold, Desi, but it owns my soul and I can't be free of it. Every time I go back to that cavern, it's like I had never been there, never stepped foot upon it's shores, the crew feels it too, and you…" she scratched him lovingly on top of the head before taking a another swig of rum, she then continued.

"Curse Tyler for ever showing me the map, he knew what would happen, he knew so he showed me this damn map anyways!" she knocked a slew of papers from her heavily laden desk, "I'd give it up if I could, but I gave my soul to the devil to possess this map and until he finds me, I'll be damned for all eternity if I give it away."

Desmond made some strange squeak and then his little head whirled around, staring beadily at Damon's hiding place, he gave out three high pitched hisses and Demora stood, following Desmond's beady little glare.

Damon tried unsuccessfully to shuffle himself around and edge slowly towards his entrance point…

A dagger came flying through the wall and stopped half an inch from Damon's jugular. Damon gulped down a girlish scream and tried to sidle past the sharp object, the dagger was removed and Damon stopped moving, he stopped breathing, and if it could've…his heart would've stopped beating.

Through the tiny slit that the dagger's point had made, a sinful black eye peered in a glowered at him. Suddenly, several flashes of glinting metal and thousands of tiny splinters came hurtling at him. Damon closed his eyes and prayed that God still took thieves, or that his mother's patron, Old Crooked, was listening closely.

Not even a second later, Demora's hand broke through the wall and clutched Damon firmly around the neck, she pulled him through the freshly hacked void and threw him to the ground, she was small, but she was dead strength.

Her voice was a murderous growl: "I thought I'd made myself very clear when I told you to get off my ship."

He swallowed a terrified yowl, "Yes…you did."

"Then why," she smiled sweetly, "are you still here?"

"Well…I missed you."

"Horse shit!" she spat, "Why are you here, really?"

"I wanted to make sure you weren't in over your head with that Barbossa kid, and…that's all." her eyes narrowed, "Why did you falter?"

"I didn't falter."

Her hand slammed down next to his head and she hissed furiously into his ear, "I'm your twin, Damon, I can read you better than you can read yourself, now tell me why you faltered."

"I'm not completely sure." he shrugged and his oddly colored eyes met Demora's same dual-colored gems, now flashing with rage.

"How much did you hear?" she asked suddenly, realizing that now she could be in real trouble.

"Hear what?" Damon replied quickly, using all of his Roiben court skills to produce a façade of charm. Demora gave him a callous look, "Oh! That! I heard…I heard…Iheardeverything."

Demora released him and stepped away, her strange eyes lost and distant.

"Mora, if you don't want anything to do with this treasure, get rid of the map, nothing can be more simple than that, I'll take it if you-" Demora spun on him, her eyes once again filling with fire.

"Don't you get it? If I give this away," she picked the map off the floor, "I will be stuck as I am forever!" she threw the map back down, "I won't square with that, I won't square with that at all."

'Stuck as you are? Mora, you're not damned."

"Not damned?" she pulled down the soiled collar of her jacket and showed him her neck, a strangely shaped red welt glowed almost lifelike on her skin, was that a brand? Stepping closer, Damon saw that it was a cursive J joined with a T, and it most certainly was a brand.

"There, you see?" she asked gruffly, "I am damned, I have been chosen by Satan himself to perform tasks he cannot, I have been selected, along with my crew, to continually sail these seas in a never-ending cycle of insanity. I have gone this rout for three years and each year I end up in the same place with no recollection of ever being there- I have plundered crates of gold that never empty, I have broken goblets of glass that never seem to break. I am damned, Damon, I am damned and not a damn thing you say will change that, I don't know how to change it! All I know is that if I give away this map, I will be lost at sea and be forever searching for something I will never find."

Damon took a step towards her, and Demora took a step back, "Mora, I could help you break this."

She laughed bleakly, "Help me? Damon, you can barely help yourself," she sat back and sighed heavily into a flask of whiskey, the flash suddenly fell from her hand, staining her already soiled shirt.

"Damon, I just realized two very important things."

Damon shifted before replying, "What did you realize?"

"This time two changes occurred. First, Barbossa came upon us, then the Pearl," she laughed gaily, "Damon, I think you've already started helping, and Zane…he can help end this! I'm sure Tyler never intended this."

"Demora…who's Tyler?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously, "Never speak his name unless already cursed!" she shook her head, "James Tyler, Captain of the Succubus, most deadly charming man to ever sail the keys…I made the mistake of joining up with him and stealing his precious map…now he chases us, forever after his salvation, and we wander, forever stuck in this loophole of chance."

"Succubus?"

"His ship, a beauty, I'll abet, but a soul reaper…it's great, green sails are a dead give away to those that know it and every time my crew spies it, we flee once more, only to end up where we started."

She groaned, placing her head between her hands, massaging her temples, "He marked me because he knew I'd take the map."

"How did he mark you? How did he get close enough to mark you?"

"We were lovers, but only because I wanted his map and the treasure it promised."

"And you found Barbossa on the island?"

"Aye."

"I think he's your key at saving yourself from this nightmare."

"I think the same." a shout from above drew Demora's attention and she moved to look out her bayed window…a black ship with great, green sails loomed dead ahead, sitting low in the water, sinking. Demora ran up to the Traveler's cannon riggings, grabbing the Arms Master, Jib, roughly by the arm.

"Load the cannons!"

"But, Captain, the ship's down in the water anyway, it's sinking and there aren't any signs of-"

"Load the bloody cannons!"

"Captain…"

"Are you a pirate or aren't you?!"

"Captain-"

"He would do the same to us, don't lie to yourself, Jib, he would shoot us down like dogs."

"We're better'n him, I won't load 'em."

"Then I'll do it myself." as Demora began to lift the heavy ball up to the cannon, a low chuckle made her stopped her in her tracks, "That really won't be necessary, Demora, love, you're going to be shooting at an empty ship, we're all over here, and I do believe you have something of mine."

Demora turned to meet the cold, green eyes of James Tyler, the only man she had ever, truly, feared.

A/N- Not much of a twist, but hey, I gave this story a plot- well it already kind of had one, but that was weak, please review!