When Jack woke up, he found that there was light streaming through the crack between the heavy drapes. It seemed that he slept through the rest of previous day and now it is morning. It was no longer storming, but a heavy fog was present. His eyes narrowed when he thought of the owner of the silky voice.

'That damned -! Wait…I can sit up without not so much as wince?' Jack thought. He cocked his eyebrow and poked himself. Nothing, no pain at all.

He couldn't tell Elizabeth, but the pain seemed to dull after Mrs. Norrington held onto him for dear life and he bled through the bandages again. It reminded him of a rag and red wine. Except that his pain did not just dull, he didn't feel anything at all. It was like someone had pulled a switch in his head to stop the pain reaching his brain, except it seemed permanent.

Elizabeth was right; he hasn't eaten much since his arrival. Though he has had rum, it wasn't solid enough or had the necessary vitamins to keep him alive. Even back on the island where he was marooned, there were coconuts and food that the rum runners provided for him. Something's not right.

Jack got up gingerly from the bed and waited for the wave of nausea, but it didn't come. He didn't feel sick, but he didn't feel well either. Maybe it is some new form of coping with the pain? Whatever it was, Jack felt like eating corn and drinking rum, mostly rum.

Luckily, as he crossed the room, it was just the area where he was shot that was numbed the rest of his body felt fine, but tired. He had a little difficulty moving his limbs, it felt like he has been swimming for quite some time and he can't stop or else he'll drown.

He opened the door and found that the guards were sound asleep on their posts around his door. He nudged them with the heel of his boot, but the only response he got was a loud snore. Jack looked around cautiously before deciding that no one else was awake or that they were tricking him. Before he left though, he yelled in their ears and again just to be sure, but there was no response to show that they were awake.

He threaded through the hallways trying to find the kitchen. As his footsteps were muffled by the carpet, he realized now that everything was quiet. Not just in the house, but there were no sounds of birds chirping, chickens clucking, or kids playing. It couldn't be that early, could it?

When he opened doors, they creaked eerily in the still morning through the still house. There were no maids telling him to move along so they can continue their chores, or butlers pushing him aside showing him how to open a door more quickly. Nothing.

After what seemed like endless searching through the cavernous home, he found the kitchen. Funny that it was through the door that the maids took and down the hall to the left after the third door past the antique flower vase full of lilies of yesterday and there was no marker to mark the kitchen.

Still, no one was there to scold him to bugger off. He did not like this sort of freedom in their home mainly because there was a certain linger in the air that he could not place. As if someone had tampered with the household occupants, but Jack.

Jack walked in the kitchen that glowed lightly from the waking sun. Dust swirled around him through the cracks in the opened and closed windows. There were no signs of the kitchen staff or the meal to be prepared for their masters. He grinned and walked around the table in the middle so he could gain access to the cabinets to the side. Jack figured that since there was not any rum in sight, they must have hidden it from him if he had decided to the rummage through, and rummage through he will.

He was rummaging through the cabinets and could find everything but anything that is not alcoholic. Suddenly, he heard a sound that sounded awfully like a person walking lightly and cocking their pistol. He slowly turned around with a small jar of salt, but he could not find anyone. He placed the salt on the counter below the cabinet and continued his search.

There! He heard someone cough! His head snapped up too quickly and he hit his head on the open cabinet door not at all lightly. Jack rubs his sore head and he slowly backed away from the cabinets. He did not want to seem as a threat where the person would shoot him.

The cough sounded a lot closer now! Jack could hear nothing but the blood rushing through him and the pounding in his heart. His hand slowly reached for his pistol only to remember that he had no additional shot left since he used it last during their pillaging. He grabbed the jar of salt again and hoped that the person had his eyes open, the pain it would cause.

Jack ducked down and he again hit his head, but this time on the kitchen counter. Again, he rubbed his head and slowly got up. He slowly crept backwards away from the cabinets. He decided then, it couldn't be helped that there was a stranger here to steal his friends' riches. But then again, they are his friends; perhaps he should do something…

He didn't realize that he had kept backing away until his foot hit the low bottom and made him propel backwards right through the open window. Jack didn't know what was happening. His arms flailed around as he tips over the edge before falling through.

Jack groaned from the dirt floor and an unusually bright sun glared at him. It felt like he should have died from the impact, but it was only on the first floor. Jack once again escaped death. He swayed as he got up and dusted himself off. He felt something stick to him and his hand came away with fresh blood. Still he did not feel any pain from there, but did feel lightheaded.

He realized that he was actually outside, no one heard him, no one around him, and he was actually outside! He could make his escape from Port Royal now and be away from all of this.