Far away from Elizabeth's plights, two boats rowed slowly through the humid swamp of a large island just north of Cuba. It was haunted; that's what some of the crew members were whispering. Perhaps it wasn't, but the loud hum of cicadas and the island residents peeking though the brush were certainly unsettling. However it wasn't as unsettling as the reason for their visit to Jack's old friend.

'Why is Jack afraid of the open ocean?' William Turner asked Mister Gibbs.

'Well, if you believe in such things,' Mister Gibbs replied, lowering his voice as he noticed Jack peek over his shoulder from the other boat. 'There's a beast that does the bidding of Davy Jones. A fearsome creature with giant tentacles that suction your face clean off.' His hands replicated a suction cup. 'And drag an entire ship down to the crushing darkness,' he paused for drama, 'the Kraken.'

The four listening men (Will, Pintel, Ragetti, and Marty), glanced at one another. It was a worrying tale.

'They say the stench of it's breath is-' Mister Gibbs shuttered. 'Imagine, the last thing you know on Gods green earth is the roar of the Kraken and the reeking odor of a thousand rotting corpses. If you believe in such things.'

Will knew to take Mister Gibb's stories with a grain of salt. The man loved sharing creepy stories from what he gathered of him. Though Will believed this one; he had to, after fighting Captain Barbossa's skeleton crew it was difficult not to believe in all things strange and unnerving. 'And the key will spare him that?'

'Now that's the very question that Jack wants answered, bad enough even to go visit. . . her.'

'Her?' Will echoed.

Mister Gibbs nodded. 'Aye.'

It wasn't much of an answer, but he suspected that he would soon find out who this 'her' was and how she was going to be of any help to Jack.

Deeper and deeper they went into the forested swamp; it grew darker and darker, the only lights being the fireflies that flew gracefully over the water and around the trees. Jack was growing uneasy; he knew that soon they would reach the shack that housed Tia Dalma; his old friend, if you could call her that. There was something about her that always put Jack on edge. The dark beauty had otherworldly powers and could help him greatly; but like himself, she never did something that wouldn't ultimately help herself.

The golden glow of the shack finally emerged from the trees, parting the darkness. As the boats made the last seconds of their journey, Jack stood and stepped onto the dock outside of the shack.

'No worries, mates,' Jack told the crew, really only trying to convince himself. 'Tia Dalma and I go way back, thick as thieves, nigh inseparable we are,' and they had to an extent. Though the peace was merely kept for the rewards that Tia had reaped from their dealings in the past. Sure, she might call them friends, but in reality she was faithful to no soul, especially a mans. There was always a chance that their meetings could end in disaster. 'Were. . . have been,' he corrected himself nervously, 'before.'

'I'll watch your back,' Mister Gibbs reassured his captain.

'It's me front I'm worried about,' Jack muttered through gritted teeth.

'Mind the boat,' Mister Gibbs told Will.

'Mind the boat,' Will told Ragetti.

'Mind the boat,' Ragetti told Pintel.

'Mind the boat,' Pintel told Marty.

'Mind the boat,' Marty told Cotton.

'Mind the boat,' Cotton's parrot told Cotton before flying away.

And so finally the boat was left, minded by Cotton.

The group of men cautiously entered the shack, with Jack in the lead. It was the same as he had remembered it, but now a worrying yellow python had itself wrapped on one of the few trees that had grown through the wooden floors. It was a cluttered place, with candles placed where they would fit and jars full of suspicious liquids hung from the ceiling, as the shelves were too full.

'Jack Sparrow!' said Tia Dalma with a smile, as she sat a desk, inspecting something surely plagued with black magic.

'Tia Dalma,' Jack greeted her with equal joy, before nearly knocking his head on one of the many hanging jars. This one looked like it was full of small dead rodents.

'I always knew de wind was goin' blow you back to me one day,' she approached with her skirts in one hand as she stepped over books and more jars scattered about the floor. A smile graced her face as she did, until she saw the young boy standing in the doorway, Will. 'You,' she muttered as she pointed at him. Jack's eyes followed her finger and turned to look at him. 'You have a touch of. . . destiny about you.' She swept over to him. 'William Turner.'

'You know me?'

Jack looked away, now more worried than ever. He had heard those words come from her once before. It was fifteen years ago, when Jack was working for the East India Trading Company. He and Cutler Beckett were ruthlessly climbing their ways up the ranks, lying, cheating, and stealing to do so. But there was one man who was doing far better, Lord Drummond; they intended to get rid of him, just as they had the others. This man, after several attempts, they realized would not be disposed of so easily. They had heard of Tia Dalma on their endeavor's in the West Indies and sought her out to strike a deal with her; neither of them believed in her, not really, but it was worth a shot. They offered her any service to sink the competition and just like now, she had spoken.

'Cutler Beckett,' she had said, in the same eerie way, with no knowledge of him. 'You have a touch of. . . destiny about you.'

Jack still felt the same chills as the first time he had heard her say it. The two had left her shack, laughing about how insane the woman was. But she had promised that her end of the bargain would be held up; though it wasn't clear what she wanted from them. In a week they had gotten the news. A hurricane had sunk Lord Drummonds fleet and killed everyone aboard. It was a coincidence, Jack had told himself a thousand times. But he did not convince himself that this was true. Killing someone by black magic brought about much more guilt than skillful combat. That wasn't the worst of it though, he feared what their payment to Tia Dalma would be. He never found out, but had his suspicions.
Within the next two years, as they kept climbing, Cutler was just one position ahead of Jack. His boss, but not by much. The two began arguing about the intentions of the company and it was suddenly so clear to Jack that Cutler was competition and he was to him, just like Lord Drummond. One day, Jack had enough of the companies evil ways and gave up on trying to make it to the top. He was supposed to be delivering cargo to Jamaica, but the cargo was slaves. Jack freed the slaves on a passing island, which looked stable enough. For that, Cutler burnt down the Black Pearl, sending it to the depths and branded Jack with the 'P' for pirate. He shot Cutler in the shoulder with his pistol, but his old friend hadn't flinched. Hadn't bled. Jack fled the ship, and since then wondered why that was. Had he missed? He didn't think so. Something told him it had to do with the eerie words of Tia Dalma about destiny.

Since then he hadn't been so adverse to her help, as like the first time, he hadn't certainly known what she wanted as payment; who knew, sometimes a strange object was enough and sometimes it could be fatal consequences to fear later. It wasn't that he didn't fear her or what she may have done, but in recent years he had made far too many shady deals to be bothered. The Kraken was searching for him on Davy Jones behalf; there wasn't much to worry over that was more terrifying than that.

Jack shuddered and put all those taxing thoughts to the side.

'You want to know me,' Tia Dalma's honeyed voice said to Will.

Jack approached the two quickly. 'There will be no knowing here. We've come for help and we're not leaving without it.' He grabbed her arm and tried to shift the subject. 'I thought I knew you.'

'Not so well as I had hoped,' she walked with him. 'Come,' she told the crew standing near the door.

'Come,' Jack echoed.

'What service,' Tia held Wills shoulder as he sat down and then stroked his jawbone, 'may I do you?' She stopped and shot a glare at Jack. 'You know I demand payment.'

'I brought payment,' Jack reassured. With a whistle, Mister Gibbs brought over a covered cage which Jack pulled the sheet from. It was Captain Barbossa's monkey, Jack. 'Look,' he exclaimed as he put his pistol to the cage. He fired at it, which did no harm to the monkey. 'And undead monkey. Top that.'

Tia let the monkey Jack out of his cage, free to roam about. This caused irritated sighs from the crew, who had spent a lot of time capturing it.

'The payment is fair,' she informed, much to Jack's relief.

'We're looking for this,' Will showed her the soggy old parchment that had a key drawn onto it. 'And what it goes to.'

Tia's jaw clenched. 'The compass you barter from me,' she said to Jack. 'It cannot lead you to this?'

'Maybe,' he furrowed his brow. 'Why?'

'Ahh,' she sat down. 'Jack Sparrow does not know what he wants. Or- do you know, but not how to claim it as your own?'

Jack remained silent, feeling called out and unknowing whether to admit to this or not.

'Your key go to a chest, and it is what lay inside the chest you seek,' she continued. 'Don't it?'

'What is inside?' Mister Gibbs asked curiously.

'Gold? Jewels? Unclaimed properties of a valuable nature?' Pintel asked.

Ragetti cringed as he looked at the jar of eyeballs hanging next to him. 'Nothing bad, I hope.'

'You know of Davy Jones,' Tia smiled. 'Yes? A man of the sea, a great sailor. Until he ran a foul with that which vexes all men.'

'What vexes all men?' Will questioned.

Tia reached out and touched his hand. 'What indeed?'

'Well the sea,' Mister Gibbs guessed.

'Sums.'

'Dichotomy of good and evil,' Ragetti blurted out.

'A woman,' Jack rolled his eyes.

'A woman,' Tia drew out the last word. 'He fell in love.'

'No-no-no-no, I head it was the sea he fell in love with,' Mister Gibbs said.

Tia dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand. 'Same story, different versions, and all are true. See, it was a woman, as changing, and harsh, and untamable as the sea. Him never stopped loving her. But the pain it cause 'im was too much to live wid. But not enough to cause him to die.'

Will couldn't help but be reminded of Elizabeth, how changing, harsh, and untamable she was. He had lost her somewhere between their engagement and their wedding and he had known it. But it had to be put out of his mind; he was going to save her. 'What exactly did he put into the chest?'

'Him heart,' Tia touched the skin over her breast where her own heart was beating.

'Literally or figuratively?' Ragetti wondered out loud.

'He couldn't li'erally put his heart in a chest!' Pintel snapped at his friend. 'Could he?'

'It was not wort' feeling what, small fleeting joy life brings, and so . . . he carved out him heart, lock it away in a chest, and hide de chest from de world. De key,' she looked down at the parchment, 'he keep wid him at all times.'

Will stood to face Jack. 'You knew this.'

'I did not. I didn't know where the key was. But now we do. So all that's left is to climb aboard the Flying Dutchman, grab the key, you go back to Port Royal and save your bonnie lass, hey!' Jack spoke without breath, ready to leave the shack.

'Let me see your hand,' Tia commanded Jack as she reached her own out.

Jack showed her his right hand, untouched by the blackspot. She didn't look convinced, and so with a sigh, he handed over his left. Tia unwrapped the bandage and revealed the blackspot.

This sent the crew wiping their hands on their chests, spinning once to the left, and spitting on the floor.
'Black spot!'

'My eyesight is as good as ever, just so you know,' Jack announced.

Tia left the room, muttering to herself. Jack reached down and took a ring off of the table, next to a silver locket, and pocketed it just before she returned.

'Davy Jones cannot make port. Cannot step on land but once every ten years. Land is where you are safe, Jack Sparrow.' Tia held out a jar of dirt. 'And so you will carry land wid you.'

Jack took the jar of dirt. It seems to him that she was losing some of her magical luster.

'Dirt. This is a jar of dirt.'

'Yes?'

'Is the. . . jar of dirt going to help?'

'You don' want it, give it back.'

Jack held the jar to his chest. 'No.'

'Den it helps,' Tia smiled.

Will sighed. 'It seems we have a need to find the Flying Dutchman.'

Tia sat back down at her table. She held several crab shells within her cupped hands and closed her eyes. 'A touch. . . of destiny!' She threw the crab claws down onto the table, laying out a sort of map.

With that, their destiny was sealed. To the Flying Dutchmen they went.

WRITERS NOTE

So this is definitely a boring chapter and very much just the scene in the movie written out and with a little tiny bit added. I didn't want to do it, but for the direction I want this to go in I thought it was important. Thanks for reading!