A/N: I know, I am a horrible person! How long has it been? I don't even want to know. Well, just to make up for my extended absence, here are the next two chapters, so I hope that will tide you over for a bit, until I can finish the next one. Thanks so much for all of you who have reviewed my story! Keep it up!
Will managed to hold off most of the dogs for a short time until one of the larger ones broke loose from the pack and latched its sharp teeth around Will's leg. Its incisors sliced through Will's skin and muscle, tearing the very sinew from the bone and exposing it. Will cried out in pain and lashed out against the dog, but at that very moment the rest of the dogs, recovering, from their injuries, attacked as a unified force, tearing Will's clothes and flesh and pulling him down to the ground. The stick was wrenched away from him and thrown away. The men laughed at Will's cries of pain and pleas for help, allowing him to suffer before their very eyes.
After several minutes, Commodore Norrington slowly stood up and whistled. The slaves rushed to the dogs, putting muzzles over the dogs' mouths and dragging them back away from the heap of bloody flesh lying quietly on the beach.
Two soldiers were sent down over the ridge to bring Will back up to the Commodore.
"He's alive, Commodore!" one of the soldiers reported.
"Is he?" Norrington asked softly. He looked at the man lying at his feet and crouched down beside him. "Will, you do surprise me!"
Will's face was covered in blood, as was the rest of his body. He had deep gashes torn by hungry teeth that literally covered his entire body. Yet despite all this, at the sound of his name, his eyes fluttered open for a moment.
"What to do with you?" the commodore sighed dramatically. "Well, I suppose that I must admit, I had not expected you to die, and being a man who enjoys planning ahead, I have a plan. You see, it occurred to me, that you watched as Elizabeth and that pirate, Captain Jack Sparrow, were marooned here, on this very island. Perhaps it would be fitting for you to suffer that same fate. And, I feel that I can fairly safely promise you that there will be no dramatic rescue for you."
He stood up to address his men. "Well, gentlemen, I suppose we should continue on our way to Tortuga if we want to be home by tomorrow night." He knelt down once more beside Will. "And Will, don't you worry about Elizabeth. I will be more than happy to take care of her for you."
Less than ten minutes later, the ship was ready to sail out for Tortuga. Before they left, Norrington had his first mate tie Will's hands behind his back so he would have no possible means of escape. Once that was accomplished, the men returned to the ship and sailed away crossing the crystal blue sea that separated Will from his love, Elizabeth.
Will did not move from that spot. He did not this he could even if he wanted to. His body was so badly torn and he had lost so much blood, to him it was a mystery as to how he had survived that long. Even then, it was not, he realized his strength that had saved him, nor his determination to live, He had stayed alive so he could someday be reunited with Elizabeth.
What had Norrington done this for? What evil purpose could his death possible serve? If Elizabeth loved him the way he thought she did, he knew that she would never remarry, which Will assumed was Norrington's ultimate goal. Will had to assume that there must be something going on that he did not know about, some subplot that would add to his disappearance that would allow Norrington to reach his goal.
A cool breeze from the ocean blew across his face, making him shiver. The rope that bound his hands was too tight for him to break through, not even if he had his full strength and was unharmed. He was trapped on a deserted island with no possible means of escape. Norrington's plan had thus far worked.
Elizabeth awoke suddenly from her sleep. It was pitch black outside and deadly quiet in the house. She instinctively put out an arm to wake Will, but only found a cool, empty space. She sighed heavily, reminding herself of his absence.
"Is everything alright, miss?" a maid asked as she crept into Elizabeth's room. "I was walking down the hall and I heard you talking in your sleep."
"Yes, I suppose I was. Forgive me if I alarmed you, I was only dreaming."
"Was it about Mr. Turner, miss?" the maid asked sympathetically.
Elizabeth only nodded. "My father always told me that he knew that my mother was dead before anyone ever told him. He just knew that something in his heart wasn't right. Do you think that could be what is happening with me now?"
It was now the maid's turn to sigh. "It could be, miss. But I find that when you don't know what's happening or what's going to happen that you just have to put your faith in the good Lord in heaven and pray that everything will be alright, and then believe that He will take care of it. And it's hard to believe that, miss. Do you believe?"
Elizabeth closed her eyes and allowed a tear to roll down her cheek. "Yes."