"Hell is that place where the simplest action causes pain."
Unknown
Demon Called Deception
Resubmitted 4-3-05. I submitted this again because I wasn't sure if it was sent out completely last time due to the site crash or whatever. If you already got this, then forgive me. If not, then enjoy!
Chapter Fourteen: The Switch
"They are coming," he whispered, his head cocked slightly to one side.
Skinner's head snapped up, his dark, almost soulless, eyes burning into his. "They're here?"
The man shook his head. "No. Not yet. But they are near. It is almost time. Get your men ready Captain Skinner."
Skinner's face twisted into a cruel smile. His eyes flicked down to the young girl tied to a stalagmite not far from where he was standing. His smile broadened, the evilness of his expression spreading to his eyes. "Let the games begin."
Jack remembered the last time he had been to this island. He remembered it all too well. He could feel the anger burning, building up inside of him. Jack's hands clenched at his sides, his teeth clenched together.
"Cap'n are ya alright?" Gibbs asked to his left.
Jack drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "Aye, I'll be fine."
"Per'aps you should've stayed on yer ship," came Emory's wry comment from behind.
Jack sighed. "Considering I'm one of a few people who actually know where this cave is, I don't think I could've."
Conway shivered slightly as he passed under a shadow that seemed all too familiar to him. He did not like it here. He knew it was not going to be like last time. No, this time was definitely going to end badly.
Tristan walked slowly behind the group, one hand resting on his sword hilt, the other running quickly through his damp hair. They were almost there. He knew it; he could feel it. Everything was about to begin again. Or perhaps, maybe, it would finally end.
A flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye. Tristan turned his head to his left slightly, gazing out into the dark trees. He looked back at Emory, watched the way her body swayed as she moved, as she continued to walk ahead of him. He paused in his stride, a flicker of something echoing in his eyes.
With a sigh he turned from the path and made his way silently through the underbrush.
Jack paused. He knew he had to do this. He knew that if he didn't Rebecca would be killed. He knew that. And yet . . .
"Are we waitin' here fer somethin' special?" Emory asked gruffly.
Jack turned around sharply, his eyes searching for hers in the hazy darkness. He found them, finally, her gold eye flashing. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the eerie silence. "Not really. Jus' waitin' fer the perfect moment," he answered, trying to mask his uneasiness with humor.
"Which would be now," a deep voice said in front of them.
Jack turned quickly, unsheathing his sword in the same swift move.
"Cap'n," Gibbs said quietly.
Jack tilted his head slightly. All of the people behind him had drawn their swords, waiting for the first attack. The only problem was that the people surrounding them, more than twice their number, had drawn pistols. Emory glared defiantly at the men hiding in the darkness, her expression turning as black as the shadows around them.
"I suggest ya put down yer weapons mates. Ya ain't gonna be able ta get us 'fore we get you."
Jack stared at the man, taking in his cocky grin and sneering eyes. Jack did not know him; he was certain of that. His grip tightened on his sword, causing the man's grin to widen.
"Go 'head mate. See if ya c'n nail me 'fore they nail you," he said again.
Jack's eyes narrowed when he heard the sound of pistols cocking.
"Do it Sparrow," he heard Emory whisper. "We'll cover you."
The pirate jerked his head up slightly, almost unnoticeably. The sound of a gunshot lit the air, followed by the angry cursing of Emory.
Jack did not dare turn around. "Ya alright?" he asked.
"Fine," she bit out. "Bastard only shot at my feet."
"Ya see Cap'n Sparra? We will shoot you. Though that'll make the Cap'n very upset wit' us. Ya see, 'e kinda wants ya alive, an' I don't want ta dis'point 'im."
"No, wouldn't want that," Jack replied sarcastically.
"Cap'n?" AnaMaria asked.
Jack did not reply, his eyes never leaving the pirate in front of him.
"Sparrow," Emory said warningly.
With a sigh Jack allowed the sword to slip through his fingers. The cold metal blade hit the dirt ground with a dull thunk. The sound of six other swords hitting the ground came moments later. Instantly, Jack knew who had not dropped their weapon.
"Em," he said calmly.
Emory was silent, her cold eyes taking in the dozen or so pirates surrounding them.
"Em," he repeated.
"Dammit," she swore. Seconds later she dropped her sword.
The man's grin widened again. "Name's Compton. I'll be leadin' you fine gentlemen, an' ladies, ta pay a little visit ta me captain."
The men surrounding them pressed forward, their pistols still trained on the group. Compton turned around and began to quickly walk through the cave's entrance, gesturing for his men to follow.
A shiver ran down Will's spine as he was herded into the vast cavern. He remembered the last time he had been here; some twenty-six years ago. It had been a hard time for him. A time when he'd had to hold his breath with patience for the return of his children
Now, here he was again, once again awaiting the return of another child. Will loved Rebecca like a daughter, he had raised her as one, and yes, at times he had even thought of her as one of his own.
On the surface he knew, and it pained him to think of it, that Rebecca would leave one day; that she would return to her true family. But he never thought it would have been this way. She hadn't deserved this.
"Father?" Alex whispered beside him.
Will glanced over at him, taking in the calm expression that covered his face, but stopped at the fear that littered his eyes. For a moment Will forgot the predicament that they were in. He forgot about the pirates surrounding them, pistols cocked and trained on them. Instead his heart flew to his son.
Will had not thought how coming here and facing this man would affect Alex. He had not thought that Alex would still be frightened after so long. But now, as he looked into his son's eyes, Will knew that there were things that Alex would never get over. His kidnapping was obviously one of them.
Will smiled wanly, placing his hand on Alex's shoulder. "It's alright. It will be fine."
Alex did not reply, merely nodded and looked away.
Will withdrew his hand slowly, his heart aching for his son.
Three year old William Mathews ran along the sandy beach, screaming in delight as the waves licked at his bare feet. He bent over slightly, sticking his hands into the salty water. His small, pudgy fingers opened and closed quickly beneath the waves as if he wished to grab hold of the water in his tiny fists.
He squealed as a particularly strong wave crashed into his short legs, sending him toppling over. He landed in the soggy sand butt first, a smile plastered over his cherub-like face. He slammed his hands into the waves, small water drops splashing up around him. William fisted two small wads of sand and smashed them together, small blobs of mud dripping onto his already soaked breeches.
A shadow fell over him suddenly, although he did not notice as he happily played with his creation. William only looked up when a rough hand landed gently in his blonde hair. His wide, innocent hazel eyes stared gleefully up into the eyes of the man kneeling beside him.
"Ball," he stated simply, holding up his muddy hands.
Thomas Norrington smiled down at him, enjoying the childish innocence that the young boy possessed. "Where is your mother?" he asked quietly.
"Ball," William said again, patting the soggy object gently.
Thomas sighed, turning his head to glance around the small beach. He found what he was looking for moments later. With another sigh, he picked William up, paying no attention to the water dripping off of the boy.
"Come lad," he whispered. "Let's go to your mother."
William happily dropped the ball of mud he had been playing with. "Mommy!" he squealed.
"Yes, your mother."
Thomas' eyes fell on the young woman sitting outside of the small house the Turner's called home. Her eyes were staring sightlessly in front of her, her full lips set in a tiny frown. He could see worry mixed in with her vacant expression. Worry for her family, he knew. Emily Mathews was, to him, the epitome of despair.
"Mrs. Mathews?" he called gently, stopping just in front of her. "Mrs. Mathews, are you alright?"
Emily jumped slightly, recognition entering her once empty eyes. "Oh, Mr. Norrington. I'm sorry; I did not realize that you were there."
Thomas smiled slightly. "I believe this belongs to you," he replied, placing William down on the ground.
William laughed and ran to his mother's side. Emily enveloped him in a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "Oh William," she whispered.
"Are you going to be alright Mrs. Mathews? Do you . . . do you wish to talk?"
Emily looked up at him, unsure what to make of his kind offer. She knew that Thomas loved Rebecca, knew that one day he wished to marry her, but she was not sure if she was willing to confide in him.
But, staring up into his kind eyes, Emily found herself willing to trust him.
"I'm worried," she whispered, absently smoothing her son's wet hair. "They should be back by now. Do you . . . you don't suppose . . . you don't think that something has happened to them?"
Thomas turned around slowly and sat next to her, running his hands over his wet uniform. "I do not know. I do know, though, that your father would never allow anything to happen to your husband, and neither, it seems, would Sparrow."
"We both have so much to lose," Emily replied, cradling William in her arms. "If something goes wrong, if my uncle fails, then I will lose my husband, brothers, father, and a woman who was raised as my sister." She paused, glancing down at her son as he began to calm down. "But you would lose the woman that you love.
"I have been through this before, Mr. Norrington, when I was hardly older than my son. I cannot stand this waiting patiently for something to happen. I cannot take not knowing if something has gone wrong. I am not as strong as you or my mother. I just cannot take this anymore."
Thomas was silent for a moment after she finished, allowing her words to sink in. "You believe that I have been strong throughout this ordeal, but you are wrong. There has not been a day or night that passes that I do not wish Rebecca was here with me now. There is not a moment that goes by that I do not think that I could have done more to save her.
"I pray every night, Mrs. Mathews, for her safe return. I pray for the strength to continue; to not commandeer a ship and go after them. I am in the same situation as you. Please understand that."
Thomas paused, gazing into Emily's tear filled eyes. "I am sure your mother feels the same way. This cannot be easy on her, either."
Tears began to trail down Emily's cheeks, pooling at the point of her chin. "I just do not wish to raise my son without a father. I do not wish to be alone."
Without warning, Thomas pulled her to him, wrapping both arms around her in a hug. He had no idea why he had done so. He knew it was improper to embrace a woman who was already married, but when he had gazed into her tear streaked face, he had not been able to control himself.
"You are not alone," he whispered, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. "You never will be, I promise."
Tristan lowered the body of the pirate to the cave floor, watching as Emory and her group was herded into the cavern, none of them looking very happy with the situation. Even from his position above them, Tristan could see the look of fear that slowly made its way across Alex's face, spreading from his eyes. He could see the look of cold anger gracing Emory's tanned features.
Tristan's eyes followed Emory for a moment and then fell on Jack. Jack's dark eyes stared in front of him. To Tristan it seemed as if Jack was completely ignoring the pirates surrounding him. His characteristic mannerisms were gone; his normal cocky grin was not visible. He seemed to be a different man entirely. Jack was way too calm and collected to be his normal self.
The barrel of a pistol being placed at the back of his neck pulled him out of his musings. Tristan cursed himself silently at not having heard anyone approach. He knew better than to let his guard down.
Tristan felt the pistol shift as the person behind him moved slightly.
"Mmm, Cap'n's not gonna like this," a gruff voice whispered.
Tristan looked down at the pirate lying dead at his feet. He shrugged slightly. Oh well. Things never did go the way they were planned.
"In fact," the man behind him began, "Cap'n's gonna wanna 'ave a word wit' ya."
The pirate's free hand fell down on Tristan's shoulder, squeezing painfully. Tristan sighed and rolled his eyes. How he so hated being manhandled.
Emory gazed around her, her discolored eyes taking in everything surrounding them. She noticed the dozen or so pirates littering the room around them; each engaging in various activities. One pirate stood leaning against the wall, picking at his dirty, ragged fingernails with his dagger. Others merely stood silently, watching in silent glee as the small group was led into the cave.
Emory's nose wrinkled in disgust as one of the muddy pirates licked his lips and blew a kiss at her. The other men howled at them, issuing cat calls at the two women pirates that were being paraded into the center of the cavern along with their male companions.
"I see that our guests 'ave arrived," a deep voice boomed.
Emory's gaze shot to the center of the cave, looking up to meet the eyes of the man standing there. Instantly, the feeling of bitter cold settled over her. Frozen fingers gripped her chest-DeathPainAnger-squeezing until it hurt to breathe. Emory gasped, her lungs beginning to beg for air. Her shaking hands went to her chest, her fingers digging into her own skin, attempting to find a way to gain release.
Jack heard her gasp of pain. The first thought that filtered through to his hate filled mind was that someone had hurt her. That thought was quickly pushed away as he saw the cruel smile flit across the center pirate's face. He was doing this. Somehow, he was hurting Jack's flesh and blood.
Jack turned just in time to see Emory's knees buckle under her. He shot to her side before even her crew had time react. His strong fingers grabbed hold of her arm before she could fall.
"Em," he began. "Em, love. Snap out o' it."
Emory's pain-laced eyes met his for a moment as she fell to her knees. She reached up quickly, her ice-cold fingers gripping his warm hand. Jack jerked back as the bitter cold washed over him, the fingers of Death touching his senses-DeathLifeRebirthRevenge-and drowning his world in a sea of frozen agony.
Jack could vaguely make out his crew calling to him; could vaguely feel their hands gripping his shoulders.
"Break them apart," he heard a cold, familiar voice call out.
Moments later he was forcibly pulled away from Emory. The moment her hand left his, warmth began to once again spread its way through his body, the pain of Death surrendering him to Life once again. When his vision cleared, he turned his head to look at Emory.
Her chest was red from where she had clawed at her skin; thin trails of blood trickled down her flesh from where her nails had broken through. Her face was pale, her eyes dull. Her hands were still shaking uncontrollably, but for the most part she seemed fine.
"Em?" he said softly.
Emory looked up at him but did not reply. She offered him a weak smile instead, the expression not meeting her eyes.
"Now that the 'ole family bondin' is over," a voice barked out, "per'aps we c'n get down ta business."
"Only business . . . we're gettin' down ta," Jack gasped, "is killin' . . . you an' takin' back Rebecca."
Skinner stared over at him, one scarred eyebrow raised. "Rebecca? Ah, yes, that sweet young girl that I mistakenly took from you. She was of no use to me."
"Then give her back!" Will shouted.
Skinner blinked at him. A cold sneer made its way across his face as he recognized who had spoken. "I remember you now," he replied, walking toward Will. "You were here, weren't you? Waitin' in the shadows wit' the rest o' 'em; waitin' ta ambush me. Oh yes. I remember you."
Skinner stopped directly in front of Will. "I bet you thought ya won, didn't you? I bet it killed you ta find out that I was still alive an' that I took something so important from you."
"Just release her." Will stated, never breaking eye contact.
Skinner gestured over his shoulder at two pirates that stood in front of a stalagmite. Rebecca looked up mutely as the two men stepped aside. At first she remained silent, her eyes accepting the strange people standing around her, until . . .
"Father!" she cried, tears of hope springing to her eyes. "Alex! Michel! Thank God!"
One of the pirates smacked her, effectively stopping her from talking. "Shut up wench!"
Jack bristled in unspent anger. "Ya won't touch 'er again Skinner."
Skinner turned to him, "Oh, and are you goin' ta stop me?"
Before Jack could reply, a tanned hand touched his shoulder. "No, 'e's not," Emory answered, the color slowly returning to her face. "I am."
"What?" Conway said, finally breaking his own silence. "Cap'n ya don't . . ."
"Quiet, Mr. Conway," Emory snapped, silencing him with a cold stare. "I've warned ya about questionin' me decisions."
"What're ya doin' Wyatt?" Jack asked.
"What I have to," she replied.
Skinner looked her up and down, taking in the way her stance was aggressive and yet passive at the same time. Her face was a mask of resolve; a mask of understanding.
"Ye've intrigued me lass," Skinner said.
"I'm offerin' ya a trade," Emory started. "If you let Rebecca go, then-"
"Don't you dare," Jack hissed.
"-you c'n 'ave me."
Skinner stared at Emory for a moment, his black eyes narrowed. What was she playing at? "How do I know I c'n trust ya?"
Emory snorted, fighting back the shiver that passed down her spin as his gaze met hers. "Ya don't. But I'm offerin' my life fer 'ers."
Skinner did not reply at first, his black gaze locking on hers.
"You said she was of no use to you," Emory stated again, her voice growing stronger with each word. "Why not take me instead? I'm sure you've figured it out by now that I 'ave what ya want."
"Cap'n," Destiny whispered but stopped when Emory lifted her right hand in a warning gesture.
Believing this to be too good to be true, Skinner asked, "An' what do ye want in return?"
"You let Rebecca go," Emory stated. "Give 'er back ta the people that care 'bout 'er."
Skinner smirked. "There's more." It was a statement, not a question.
"You let mine an' Sparrow's crew leave as well, wit'out incident."
Skinner laughed at that. "An' why should I?"
"Because you want the treasure, an' I'm the only way ya c'n get it."
The smirk fell away from Skinner's face. He knew she was right. He could see that she was right. Her face, her eyes, everything screamed at him. He could see that she was Lor's daughter. He could see that she was Rebecca's sister; her twin as it were.
"An' if I accept yer bargain?"
Emory sighed. "I'll give ya whatever ya want. Do we 'ave an accord?"
Skinner scowled at her, his left eye twitching. Before he could reply, one of his crew came up behind him and whispered in his ear. Skinner's gaze flicked to Emory for a moment and then back to his crewman. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face as the pirate spoke. Emory felt a chill run down her spine as she watched them. Whatever the man was saying, she had a feeling she was not going to like it.
When the pirate finished, Skinner turned back to her, the smirk still present. "Aye, lass. We 'ave an accord."
Emory swallowed, attempting to wet her dry mouth. She nodded slightly and brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. As she began walking towards Skinner, a strong hand grabbed onto her arm, stopping her in her tracks.
"Don't do this," Jack whispered.
Emory turned her head slightly to stare at him from the corner of her eyes. "Let me go Sparrow."
"You do this, an' he wins."
"Let me go," she repeated, her eyes growing angry.
"I'm not goin' ta stand by an' lose another one o' me daughters," Jack hissed.
"Yer gettin' one back," Emory answered snidely.
"Doesn't work that way, love."
"I don't 'ave time fer this."
"Yer not gonna-"
Jack's words were cut off as Emory turned quickly and slammed her right fist into his stomach. Skinner watched as she knelt down with Jack as he fell to his knees, her back to him. He could almost swear that he heard her speak; could almost swear that he heard her whisper something to Jack before she stood up.
Emory turned her back on Jack and began to slowly walk towards Skinner, her red-black hair waving behind her.
"No," he gasped out.
"Let her go Jack," a soft, feminine voice whispered.
Jack's eyes shot open as his head jerked up. He knew that voice; he could never forget that voice. Standing beside Emory as she went to complete her part of the bargain, was a tall glowing form. A form with short, wild red hair. But as he blinked, the form disappeared, causing Jack to wonder if she had just been a figment of his imagination.
Emory stopped in front of Skinner, gazing directly into his eyes. "Now let Rebecca go."
Skinner flicked his wrist behind him. "Untie her then," he replied. "No one will stop you."
Emory's gaze flicked to the pirates standing around her and then to the frightened woman still tied to the rock. She nodded slightly and then began to walk over to Rebecca. Emory leaned over slightly as she walked, pulling a small knife from her left boot, gripping it tightly in her left hand.
Rebecca's eyes widened slightly as Emory stopped in front of her. Through teary eyes, Rebecca had barely been able to tell what Emory had looked like from across the cavern. But now, seeing her right up close, she almost felt as if she were looking in a mirror.
True, Emory's eyes and hair were different, and her face was harder, but in every other aspect, they were identical. Face shape, height, everything about her was similar.
Without a word, Emory walked behind her. Rebecca felt the cold steel of the blade as it sliced through the heavy ropes tied around her wrists. Emory looked up slightly, watching as AnaMaria and Gibbs helped Jack to his feet. She sighed as she stepped up beside Rebecca.
"Run," she stated.
Rebecca wasted no time in doing as she was told. She ran towards the small, captive group, stumbling slightly but then straightening. "Father!" she cried, running into Will's open arms.
Emory watched them for a moment as she stepped up beside Skinner. Her gaze flicked to Jack, gathering the many emotions that flashed across his face. Feeling her staring at him, Jack looked up at her. He nodded silently and then whispered to AnaMaria.
"Let's go," AnaMaria stated, turning slowly to make her way back to the entrance of the cavern, the others following closely behind.
Conway was the only one to stay where he was. Emory shook her head at him. "Go," she mouthed.
Before he could argue, Destiny grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him away.
"If any o' yer men try ta stop them," Emory began, not turning to look at Skinner. "I'll kill meself."
"I'm sure ye would." Skinner replied. "I, however, am always true ta me word. They will escape unharmed."
He turned to her slowly, one hand going under her chin and gripping her slender throat. "You, on the other hand, are now mine to play with."
"Don't get excited, old man. Ya 'aven't won yet."
"Oh, but in many ways, my dear, I 'ave."
By the time Skinner and his crew had dragged Emory to their ship, the Black Pearl and the Silent Whisper had already disappeared, heading to places she knew not where. Emory had been dragged into the brig of the Devil's Shadow and then left there, locked in the tiny cell. Alone. No guards to harass. No rats or bugs to have conversations with. Nothing.
Emory was almost asleep when she heard footsteps stop in front of her cell. Skinner stood there, his black eyes glittering in the darkness. He stared down at her, a sneer forming over his lips as he watched her lying on the hard wood floor.
"Is it still on yer back?" he asked, breaking the silence.
"What?"
"Ye know what I'm talkin' about," he answered, unlocking her cell and stepping inside. "The map."
Emory's eyes widened as she sat up. "There's a map on my back?" she asked innocently.
Skinner's sneer turned to a frown as he stopped in front of her. "Don't play games wit' me bitch."
"I'm not playin' anythin'." Emory shot back. "I jus' never said I would make this easy fer ya."
Skinner lashed out at her, his right fist connecting solidly with her jaw. A thin trail of blood began to drip down her chin as he glared down at her. A thought occurred to him, however, and once again the glare was replaced by a smirk.
"Tell me, my dear," he began. "How did you like my son?"
Emory glared up at him, wiping away the blood with the back of her hand. "Can't say as I've ever met 'im."
Skinner did not reply. Instead, he lifted his left arm and gestured behind him. A man that Emory had not noticed before began to step out of the shadows silently, his hands behind his back.
Emory's eyes widened as the shadows fell away from his face. "No," she whispered. "No! I trusted you!"
AN: Bwahahahaha! How'd you like that? I had to end it like that. I just had to. Anyway, sorry that it took so long to update. I was unable to write forever until I watched Pirates and then listened to the soundtrack. And then, bam! Writer's block was gone! I hope that you all liked it!
Mystic Fish: Hmmm . . . I have to say you got one right. I love leaving cliffhangers like this. The other two I guess you'll just have to wait to find out! So, which two-thirds do you want?
Obsetress: I do agree. I wasn't too impressed with that chapter either. I liked some of it, but not all of it. You do seem to be right. Of course, I guess he is kind of easy to guess. But, sure, which one-sixth do you want?
Tefsparrow: Thanks! Well, you got two right.
Dawnie-7: Thanks! I'm glad that you liked that scene. I found it fun to write. And, well, it's not exactly like that . . . you'll just have to wait and see. Actually, you found out in this chapter!
The DuTchess of Doom: Oh, you know that I love to do that. I have so much fun. And, well, you got one right. Hope you enjoyed!
Arein: Well, you got one right, although what he's really hiding will be revealed soon.
kerricarri: wow. Let me first say that you really had to dig far to find Sui Generis. I finished that fic about two years ago. I thank you for the praises for both Sui Generis and Silver and Gold, it was greatly unexpected for fics that were finished over a year and two years ago. I love to have people express their opinions. And now, I want to thank you again for your thoughts on DCD. I have been told that my writing has gotten better, and I myself see that as well. I'm glad that you liked the Prophecy. Boy that was a hard one to write; it took me forever and a day. Now, before this review to the review gets any longer, I'll end with: I'm forever grateful that you like the trilogy so far, and I hope that you continue to! Especially after this new twist that I'm going to put in! P.S. I have to say that that is one of the longest reviews I have ever received!