(OT: I apologize for the lack of updates and only this one chapter. I have mono, which is an awful sickness! Ulgh! It makes me very tired so I haven't had time to post. Well, here is your request. Will sneaking into the temple and wet Will. The next couple, that will hopefully be up soon, I apologize if they aren't, will concern the hours before this incident and switch to Elizabeth's point of view. I actually had a bit of fun writing the last few lines... You will see why. Enjoy!)
Will Turner's breathing was shallow, and his hands grew clammy as he fingered the lock, jamming various tools into the diminutive hole. He growled beneath his breath while praying to the dear Lord that no one happened upon him. If the plan was successful, Ragetti and Pintel would stall just long enough for him to enter the temple, filch the charts, and then return without injury.
He ducked behind crates of assorted cargo when he heard voices, eyeing them suspiciously as they passed him by. They wore button-up uniforms. The East India Trading Company's uniforms. What were they doing here? Will finally applied the proper leverage, popping the padlock's grip. The man scrambled to unfasten the smaller latch and then scurried through the window and into the expansive chamber, his head nearly spinning at the elaborate decorations. Drapes of crimson red and brilliant blues glimmered against the walls, but his eyes only focused on the left side of the room, where shelves upon shelves were stacked with rolled up scrolls. He cautiously slipped into the chamber, staying close to the wall with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He eased himself next to the shelves and then began searching for the certain fascinating parchment. Will breezed through history, recipes, anything imaginable. But it wasn't there. He continued sifting through the parchment, several unfurled scrolls lying around his feet and on the nearby table.
"Looking for this?"
William froze in place and then warily swiveled around, already whipping out his sabre. It was a Chinese man who towered in presence, his long black beard dropping onto his armor plated wardrobe. "Yes..." he replied softly as he realized that he was outnumbered. At least twelve men were blocking all entryways and several had a demon-possessed eye. And yet, dear William poised his sword, prepared for combat.
"Who sends you?"
"No one; I act by my own means." Will answered steadily, stepping closer to the chipped wooden table. "Who are you?" he inquired, almost casually, resting one hand upon the surface as he observed the man's curious tattoo that curved around his bald head.
"Sao Feng, Pirate Lord of Singapore." the Chinese man responded, but his spindly fingers were waving to his men. "Seize him!" Sao Feng abruptly shouted, swirling as he removed his own jian to protect the charts.
Men of all sizes charged toward William, their teeth gritted in infuriation at his intrusion and their swords suspended in equal competence. Will thrust the table onto two of the men, leaping over the piece of furniture as he made a break for Sao Feng and the door. Two men thwarted his attempted blows at the pirate lord, smacking Will across the face before lunging with their jians. Now struggling with consciousness, Will twisted on the floor, kicking two men in the groin before managing to bounce back to his feet. He grunted as he flung a short and stocky warrior against the wall, but yet another Chinese swordsman grasped his head, yanking on his ponytail and tossing him left and right. Will screeched as he was thrust to the floor, his own sabre was flung into another man's hands, and his eyes fluttered as the throbbing in his head increased. He heard Sao Feng's cruel cackle and his hot breath as he leaned over him.
"Take the boy to the bathhouse." Sao Feng commanded, grimacing at the lad's intrusion upon his revered uncle's temple.
"He tried to steal the charts. We should kill him!" A nearby Chinese man said, gazing at William over the pirate lord's shoulder.
"No," Sao Feng roared, lifting his hand as a red sash dangled at his wrist. "He has come by Barbossa's hand." The man spun around, gripping the charts with both equally filthy hands, and strode through a passage and into the sweltering spa-like surroundings.
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Will's eyes flickered lazily as he felt himself hoisted into the air by two burly and shirtless Chinese men. Voices drifted toward him, but they wouldn't register, the pulsating beat at the back of his brown head pumping out every last ounce of energy. Perhaps, it was a dream. Perhaps if he closed his eyes... No! Broiling water splattered his perturbed countenance as he was plunged into a large wooden tub, and he managed a quick yelp as he was dunked repeatedly, allowing him only seconds to consume oxygen. His entire body quivered from the shock as everything came into focus.
His calloused hands were bound against a wooden pole, strapped behind his head and making him immobile. Then, he realized he was in a bathhouse and a strange one at that. Men with fungi sprouting above and below their ears wandered aimlessly until they located a vacant spot in the steaming tubs, and he was alone, surrounded by menacing Chinese folk. Sao Feng sauntered toward him with the crimson sash at his musty nose, absorbing the faint aroma of the stale vapor.
"Ah, you have awaken." he announced with a certain tenderness, and his eyes lit like the fires of hell. "What are the charts to you?"
Will clamped his mouth shut. He had no intention of revealing anything to this revolting man... Or at least he supposed he was revolting. Barbossa had said little about Sao Feng, but this act of cruelty certainly didn't place Sao Feng on the good side of Mr. Turner. With a concise glance, Sao Feng nodded and Will felt his head plummeting into the scorching water once more. His face flushed with anger as he growled, "They will lead me to where I need to go." He answered snarkily, sputtering out excess droplets of water.
"Then..." Sao Feng replied with a sleight grin. "Captain Barbossa did send you?" It was more of a statement than a question.
"And what profit would he gain in stealing those charts?" Will inquired in a stable response, flipping back his soaked locks.
Sao Feng nodded again and Will was dunked beneath the calming water, except this time his head was held down longer.
"They have arrived."
What was that? The Chinese men allowed him to rise for a split second, where he saw Captain Barbossa and Miss Elizabeth Swann striding ever so self-consciously into the sultry atmosphere. She yanked down her translucent garb, still grumbling over her lack of clothes. Just as his mouth opened to scream her name or Barbossa's, Will was plunged beneath the surface. He rolled as the trio spoke placidly, but he heard her sweet voice. The voice of his Elizabeth. It was the voice of the woman who had embraced him ever so briefly before he departed to filch the mystical charts. The voice of hope. Bubbles popped out of his mouth as he wiggled under their grasp and writhed as much as possible. Finally, he arched his spine and was allowed to rise, gasping for air and not comprehending why Sao Feng was now stalking toward him. Oh, no. Oh no. Shit.