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Weatherby flinched, but didn't have time to move before my father's sword blocked whoever was there. A pirate stepped out of the shadows. Agatha ran away from the fence and Weatherby stumbled backwards as Lawrence stepped up to fight. The pirate was probably twice his age, which put Lawrence at an inexperienced disadvantage. If he was afraid, he didn't show it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. The pirate smiled.

"Escaped," he admitted. "An' you lads are in me way. Step aside and I'll let you get out of this alive." Lawrence hesitated. The pirate looked persuasive. "C'mon, lad. You're young. Don't throw this away. You won't win this." Overcome by a sudden doubt in himself, Lawrence lowered his sword. The pirate stepped past him. When he reached the spot where Weatherby sat, shaking, he pulled out his pistol and pointed it between Weatherby's eyes. "Actually," he said. "I don't think I'm in the mood to-"

I never got to find out what it was that he wasn't in the mood for before my father ran him through with his sword. He died almost instantly and then a heavy silence fell upon the scene. Wordlessly, my father helped Weatherby to his feet and they walked away.

Governor Swann cleared his throat.

"I owed your father my life from that day," he said as our surroundings began to change once more. We were back in the garden of Elizabeth's childhood home. I could see Governor Swann and James still walking over to where Elizabeth and I were playing. I watched them stand and tell us from a distance as Governor Swann spoke. "When he died… I had to make sure that you and James would be alright. I had to keep you with us."

"We were always grateful for it," I said and he smiled.

"You didn't need to be grateful; I owed it to your family. To your father. He was always braver than I was. There's one last thing I need to show you. It's of the utmost importance and then-" he stopped and looked around. Our surroundings had been changing again, but I had assumed that was what was supposed to happen. He frowned and I felt uneasy.

"Governor Swann…" I asked, feeling slightly dizzy. "Are you okay?"

"No," he said quickly. "No this isn't right."

His eyes grew wide and wild as I realised we were back outside Agatha's house. There was no Lawrence, no Agatha, no young Weatherby and no dead pirates. It was just empty and dark and silent. "Why are we back here?" I asked in a quiet voice. Governor Swann began to shake his head.

"I… I don't know," he stammered.

"We're not supposed to be here. This isn't right. There's nothing here that you need to know. I need to finish my tale and teach you my lesson. But not here."

For the first time in a long time I felt cold. It could have been my actual temperature, or it could have been the dread that had gripped me. So far, nothing like this had happened on my journey. Everyone had been in control of what they showed me. Seeing Governor Swann in such a panic made me want to throw up. Was it possible for the storytellers to lose control of their own tale? Were they even the ones in control of it in the first place? It seemed as if everything around me had come to a stop. And everything was silent freezing.

Wait. Was I dead?

Did this sudden stop mean that I had finally fully died in the physical world? Would I be trapped here now, for eternity? Would I go somewhere else? Would I ever seen anyone I loved again?

I heard a crack.

Like a twig snapping underfoot.

I wanted to run, but I couldn't. I physically couldn't.

"Isabelle," Governor Swann said quietly. "This isn't meant to happen."

Another crack and Governor Swann was thrown to the ground, in exactly the same position that he had been in all those years ago. From the shadows came a sword. "Isabelle Norrington," it was a voice I did not instantly recognise followed by a face that I did.

Blackbeard.

"RUN!" Governor Swann shouted to me. His word kicked me into motion and I started to run. I heard the deep cackle of Blackbeard's cold laugh follow me just ahead of his footsteps. I had nothing- no pistol, no sword, not even a dagger. Not that weaponry would have done any good on someone who was already dead, but still… it would have made me feel a lot better. Perhaps it would even have given me a chance to fight him, overpower him. All I could do was run. I didn't know where I was running, or where I could run to. All I knew was that I couldn't stop. The rest of my eternity could be spent in an everlasting chase between me and Blackbeard, through the streets of a nighttime London, somewhere in a timezone where I wasn't even born yet. Perhaps, if this chase really was eternal, the living would be able to see it and to them we would become those ghosts that people claim to see time and time again, doing the same things. Trapped in an endless loop.

His laughter increased and everything around me wobbled. I stumbled but kept running. He was in control of everything. I didn't know if it had been him all along, but it was certainly him now. The ground flickered in and out of existence. It was wet. I skidded. It was day, it was night, it was day again. My eyes began to water. Darkness. Ice. I fell.

His hands were on me before I could even scramble to my feet. He pulled me up, turned me to face him. Everything was pitch black apart from the glowing embers in his beard. They cast grotesque shadows on his face- even more hideous in death than he had been in life. Hell suited him. He looked like he was just evil enough to enjoy a place like Hell. Now that he had me he didn't say anything. He didn't laugh. He just smiled and his eyes flashed.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, shaking.

He smiled again. "I'm number six," he chuckled. "And I was getting impatient." I tried to take a step back from him, but the darkness behind me had solidified.

"But…"

What about Jack? Would he worry if I didn't come back between tales like I always did? Would he assume the worst? If they thought I'd failed… my body would be destroyed. I'd be trapped.

But how… how could I get back to him.

Blackbeard reached out and ran a grubby finger along my jaw. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Don't you want to know why you had to die?"

He didn't wait for my reply; instead he grabbed me and pushed me. I felt myself burn and his laughter followed me into the flames.