"Christina!" Will exclaimed a smile on his face as he pulled opened the door with a creak. "Its been too long! I've missed you! For one living so close to us, you hardly ever visit. I suppose all that acting has been keeping you busy." He urged me to come in and I did, smiling weakly at my old, childhood friend. He hugged me tightly.

Will hadn't changed a bit. He still had the same style. Black hair that fell to his shoulders and was tied back had always been his trademark. As were his brown pants, small boots, shirt and tight brown vest.

"Yes it has." I tried to laugh, "I haven't seen you in ages." He smiled.

"Aye," he said and I cringed a bit at the pirate slang, "But I have gone to some of your performances. You're amazing! But when I tried to get backstage the guards wouldn't let me."

"I'll have to tell them to resolve that." I smiled again weakly, trying to keep myself cheery... but Will saw right through me.

"Whats wrong Christy?" he asked, concerned and using my young nickname. I looked down at my hands, sniffling my nose, willing the tears back into my head. I was numb from what I had just seen. Will lifted my chin with his hands and looked me directly in the eye. "What is it?" he asked again, more urgently this time.

"Its my father!" I choked quietly, "somebody took him, Will!" Will sucked in his breath, shaking his head in confusion.

"What?" he whispered, "What do you mean?" He pulled up a chair for me and him. I then sat down, beginning to speak.

"I came home from rehearsal to an empty house," I said fumbling with the necklace that I had put around my neck in attempt to hide it from Norrington and grimacing at the memories, "When I went inside everything was eerily quiet and no one would answer my calls. I began to search the house. Maybe my father had passed out somewhere while the servants were out... I don't know... but I went up to his room and found it in shambles everything was broken and torn. I turned around to find James on the floor," I paused, "...dead. So was Anabelle they had been shot in the head." My voice was flying. Will looked at me with all the pity in the world and reached over to comfort me but I shook away, continuing with the story. "I was terrified and couldn't find any trace of my father except for the sheets where he was resting which had blood on them. James was clutching something though," I said and took the necklace off, "This. I'm sure its a pirate medallion." He took it and nodded, studying it, "you and Elizabeth are the only ones I could think of to go to. You've had experience with pirates... I know that. I just hope its not too much to ask." Will shook his head.

"No, Christina," he said, looking away from the chain, "not at all." I felt a single tear roll down my cheek again and I hastily wiped it away.

"What would pirates want with my father?!" I cried out, louder than I anticipated. Will jumped.

"Hes a banker right?" he asked me and I nodded. "Perhaps they wanted his money?"

"But why take him? They could have threatened him just as well and he would have given them what they wanted. Hes not weak but hes an old sick man. He doesn't have to be stupid to know that he wouldn't stand a chance against them. There has to be another reason!" Will sat, contemplating the situation.

"Come on lets go back to your house. We may find something else. Jimmy!" he called to the left. A small boy, about 13, came out of a room in the blacksmith shop, his sandy blonde hair bouncing around his head. His eyes were a dark green but twinkled in the light. His eager, long face was lit up by a smile that would waver even the crossest person.

"Yes sir?" he asked, wiping his hands off on a cloth.

"Go to my house and tell my wife, Elizabeth, that I will be home later than I expected. That I'm with Miss Ricci helping her with a problem." Will told him and the little boy sprung into action.

"Right away sir!" he exclaimed and ran out the door, almost forgetting his coat.

Will smiled at my surprised look. "Parentless." He answered my questioning eyes, "He works for me." I nodded and we both stood. I still shook with sobs that wouldn't surface and Will wrapped his arm around me as we walked out of the blacksmith shop. I hid my face from the ones around me; trying not to attract the newspaper writers they always liked to see what I and my castmates for upcoming shows were up to.

Within minutes we were in front of my house. I looked upon it like a stranger rather than the manor that I had lived in all my life.

"Come." I said and inserted my key once again into the lock. Will followed me into the house and up the stairs. This time I was ready for the dead bodies and stepped inside as calmly as I could, a cold clammy feeling washing over me. I looked around the once elegant room, now in shambles as Will gasped next to me, his hand on the sword strapped tightly around his waist. I walked into the lavatory and grimaced at the sight of Anabelle's body once again.

Her chocolate brown hair was matted and bloody, due to the bullet wound in her hairline. She lay against the bathtub, her head tilted up to the ceiling, her empty eyes directed up into the ceiling, never to see again. Her skin I was sure was cold and rubbery, grey as a fish. I struggled to hold back bile once more. Will was in the other room as I pulled a clean sheet from the cupboard over Anabelles body, hoping to give her some respect until they were found, though perhaps I just didn't want to see her there anymore. I did the same to James, his black hair as sleek as ever and his long face peaceful. I stood up and walked over, standing by the door, hopefully watching Will search the room.

Finally, as he looked behind the door his eyes widened and narrowed. I heard a sound, like a knife being pulled from wood and saw that Will was holding a piece of parchment in one hand, a knife with crimson stain on it in the other. My eyes widened in fear and I took the knife from his hand. He dropped it, his dark eyes never leaving the parchment. I held the knife in my porcelain hands and let the dried blood turn my hands a slight shade of red as the color rubbed off. I could not remember seeing stab wounds on any of the bodies... it must have been my fathers blood. I looked at Will, who had finished reading the writing.

"What does it say Will?" I asked; emotion could not be detected in my voice. Will shook his head slightly. "What does it say?" I asked, dangerously this time. He took the knife from my hand and replaced it with the letter that had been pinned to the wall.

Small vein like rivers of blood ran down the paper from the knife. I blew on it absently and began to read:
Mr. Ricci will not be returning home
And neither will his spirit
Whoever be reading this
We are preparing you for a great misfortune
If you are to go after the man
For you will die as well
Eaten by the souls of Palori
We get what we want

"Oh my God..." I whispered and felt my knees grow weak, the note falling from my hand and onto the deep brown rug in the middle of the hardwood floor. I stared out of the four-panel window, my eyes filled with tears that I could not hold back. I hated myself for crying but there was nothing else I could do. Will stood next to me and left me alone for a moment, knowing that if he embraced me I would shake him away. I buried my head in my hands, my brain throbbing from crying and tried to clear my head.

- - - - - WILLS POV - - - - - - -
Christina had been sitting in that same position for a good ten minutes. I resigned to the bed, careful not to touch any of the blood on the sheets and sighed, watching her. She seemed frozen as if in shock.

"Christina?" I asked and she shook herself away from my voice, standing up I stood and backed away a step at the look on her face. Her mood had completely transformed. She turned to look at me, no longer were there tears in her eyes only hate. Not for me, but whoever did this to her father. I noticed how she walked with an air of violent, scary determination that I had never really seen in her towards the door. Her face impassive, her soft, ocean blue eyes almost empty. She turned back to me and frowned.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

"Coming where exactly?" I inquired, stepping to the door.

"To find the man who did this to my father." She replied as if it were simple, "and kill him."