Thanks for the reviews! No, I haven't read that. Is it good? I'll look out for it.
I've got to warn everyone that this chapter is a lot darker than the last. It is possibly the most upleasant in the story. It involves violence and heavily impliedrape.
Ok, you've been warned so don't bother flaming me if you don't like it.
I'll try get the next chapter up as soon as I can.
As he sat at his table plotting the course Jack could feel the Pearl moving beneath him. He wanted to sing and dance with joy but settled for another swig of rum instead. His ship. His Pearl. His freedom. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on his cabin door.
"Aye, come in!" he called, wondering absently who'd be wanting him at this hour.
The door remained closed. However the fist pounded twice more on the wood.
Slightly wary now Jack stood and pulled it open.
His first mate stood in the doorway, some more of the crew behind him.
"Well, what do you be wanting?"
Barbossa grinned, an unpleasant sight.
"Well Jack, me and the crew, we don't like the way ye do things."
Anger now, and some confusion, showed in his face. "If that be the case no one's forcing you to stay. We can turn back for Tortuga this night if you want. But I'm the Captain of this ship and I'll run her however I like."
"Now ya see, that's what we been hoping to rectify."
Sudden understanding flashed in brown eyes and Jack reached for his sword. But Barbossa had been expecting that and smashed the lantern he was carrying hard into his Captain's face. He was thrown backwards, stunned and bleeding heavily from a gash across his forehead, though thankfully the flame had gone out before he was hit. He was back on his feet in seconds, drawing his sword. Unfortunately about half a dozen of his crew were now inside the cabin.
A violent slash to the fore-arm caused him to loose his grip on his sword. A second later a strong blow to the head knocked him down once again. He tried to push himself back up but a sharp kick to the elbow caused him to fall on his face. They were all around kicking fast and mercilessly and he couldn't get away.
Jack didn't know how long the beating had gone on for when suddenly it stopped. Out of almost forgotten childhood instinct he'd tried to curl himself into a ball. A hand gripped his long hair and forced his head up. He was dragged out of the cabin and dropped on the deck. He lay on the dark boards, drawing ragged breaths watching the world spin.
Barbossa's face came into view, ghostly pale in the moonlight, staring down at him.
In his concussed state it took the young captain a moment to realise that he was leaning too close. However when rough fingers started to unbuckle his belt he tried again to fight back and push his first mate away. Instantly two pairs of hands had grabbed his arms and pinned them to the ground.
His trousers were ripped off. Jack realized he was afraid, terrified in a way he had not felt in a long time.
"Turn him over!"
He was spun round, his face cracking against the deck and staining it with blood.
Pushing himself up a few inches he could see his crew standing all around. Most of them were laughing. Bill wasn't, but there was a knife at his throat.
His crew were laughing at him.
But they weren't his crew anymore.
They'd betrayed him.
He wanted to shut his eyes and cover his ears.
But then he was screaming.