Another chapter from a random character's POV, because it was so fun the first time. Approaching the FF from a different angle, allowing you to see Jack through a stranger's eyes; good times. And most of you seemed to like it. Some even found it funny, which was good. Unfortunately, this next character doesn't possess a sense of humour. Hope you enjoy anyway; sorry I can't reply to reviews – I have QCS. I am buggered, knackered, beat, whatever. What would you call QCS in America or the UK? It's like senior finals exams to see what uni we may or may not have a flying fart in space of getting into. So yeah. I'm just in it for the free muffins and hot chocolate in the morning exams. But thanks to my abundance of reviewers, old and new:)
Jacob Deprey stood at his silky-oak podium, a sense of euphoria and superiority radiating from his smooth, baby-featured face as he surveyed his domain that stretched before him. A sea of solid oaken pews – hard and uncomfortable as all pews are – slightly grimy stained-glass windows with images of Christ and his parables as multi-coloured and fragile as the wings on a butterfly's back, and an ornately carved, dusty alter with a stopper of wine and a small misshapen hand-woven wicker basket brimming with stale bread rested on its surface: all stared back at him silently. Five long years of hard work, toil, study and devotion to the One True God – the Holy Lord – had granted him this; his very own parish, a congregation, a church of his very own. Granted, its location was not prime real estate as far as Houses of God went – Tortuga had been given up by many priests as a lost cause. But Father Deprey was different. He was determined to make a difference and save the God-less and sinful souls of this depraved port. He would be richly rewarded for his troubles, once he reached Heaven and God's Glory.
Fifteen minutes later the last straggle of the Lord's Lost Sheep had wandered through the door to attend the dawn service, most lured by the promise of wine rather than promises of salvation. Some respectable townspeople and God-fearing Christian women were also seated on the pews. Jacob Deprey leant heavily against his podium, rocked forward on the balls of his feet, shuffled his papers and took a deep breath to begin his sermon. Before he so much as got a whole sentence out, it happened. The Lord stopped smiling on him and he fell – nay, sprawled – out of God's Good Graces.
Father Deprey glanced up in distraction as the church doors gave a loud creak on their ancient hinges. Someone, or Something was outside. Through the partially-opened door, the Father caught a glimpse of the deepest bowels of Hell itself. Swarms of bats filled the entire stone towns-square, red eyes and sharp fangs glinting in the soft dawn light. Jacob, being a man of God, recognised them for what they truly were; thousands of miniature demons hovering outside of the church, shrieking with the fearsome voice of the Devil itself, a discordant symphony, clawed nails raking down a blackboard. They were the Devil's flock, singing his Hymn of the Damned. As he looked up in horror and fear, only one thought came to Jacob's disbelieving brain, Good God; the Apocalypse is neigh.
Before he had a chance to drop to his knees in prayer, the church door burst fully open and none-other than a dirty, filth-ridden, soulless, despicable pirate lurched through the door, stumbling down on one knee and beginning an arduous crawl up the aisle. Several of Hell's minions chased after him, but God's Grace was victorious and He smited the horrific abominations, turning them into nothing more than dust and ash. Unfortunately, He failed to strike the pirate down with the rest of the horrific abominations. Father Deprey's congregation clamoured to their feet in wonder and watched the pirate's laborious journey to the Father's feet. Jacob peered over the top of the podium, rolling his eyes at the sheer effrontery of having an unrepentant criminal dare cross his threshold and seek refuge in his church. The immoral gentleman of fortune grinned impertinently up at the man of God and sardonically begun, "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."
Father Deprey resisted the urge to tell the felon he was beyond hope of gaining eternal deliverance and turn his back to the odorous and indecorous lout. Under God's oath, he could not refuse any man that requested salvation.
"Sit over on that pew and do not move," Jacob hissed at the pirate sprawled at his feet, "Do not touch anything, do not partake of the bread or the wine, do not speak a word, do not move." The pirate merely grinned at the Holy man and swaggered over to the near-empty pew. As soon as he seated himself on it, the horrified young lady scooted down to the very far end of the bench, as far away from the pirate as she could manage without falling into the aisle. The criminal settled himself into the uncomfortable pew, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at his ankles. The pirate would have been an image of black menace and ill-will, had he not had one forlorn toe poking out the top of a worn-out and drooping sock. Pirates always look so much more vulnerable without a boot. Father Deprey smiled victoriously. And at least the reprobate will have to sit through a church service, even if it is the only one he will ever witness in his life. No man alive would be able to fall asleep on those pews.
Five minutes later light snores interrupted the good Father's address. Jacob glanced over at the wanted felon's pew. He was sound asleep, his head tipped forward as though in prayer. Some members of the congregation stifled laughter and hid smiles behind their hands. For the rest of the sermon Father Jacob gave a blistering lecture about how a person's life could degenerate into wickedness and immorality, living in a pirating port such as Tortuga. Several times he referred specifically to the perfect example of sinfulness and wanton iniquity sitting on his left, and elaborated on the pirate's horrific fate when Judgement Day should come, but the criminal did not stir. Eventually Father Deprey gave up and dismissed his flock. Judgement Day could not come soon enough.
After the long hour of what seemed to be ineffectual and hopeless preaching, the dejected priest dismounted from his podium and walked over to the sleeping pirate, mentally dragging his feet in reluctance to associate with the uncivil, unclean man. Standing over the malefactor in disgust, Father Deprey crossed himself in readiness of the tedious task that lay before him.