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Far below Jack Sparrow’s perch in the crow’s nest, the sea was a flat watered silk surface with hardly a breath of air to disturb it. Overhead the sky was a sullen slate grey, burnished with strange tints of copper. The air seemed to crackle with a faint fair off scent of burning and Jack could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Frowning thoughtfully, he lowered his telescope and ran a hand over his bandanna covered head, feeling his scalp prickling in unease at the scent of the approaching storm.

“Jack!” The sharp hail coming from only a foot below him made Sparrow start in alarm and nearly tumble from his perch.

“Go away,” he growled back, suspecting that as usual he wasn't going to be obeyed. The crew of the Black Pearl could be relied on to obey their Captain’s orders – nine times out of ten anyway. But then there was William Turner, pirate blooded blacksmith, who tended to view Jack’s commands the way a pirate viewed the Pirate Code; as a sort of guideline. Will had been delivering a specially commissioned sword to its new owner and Sparrow had picked him up on the way back to Port Royal. Will hadn't been a good mood about the side trip to Tortuga.

Panting, Will pulled himself up to the crow’s nest and slung a long leg over the edge of the bucket shaped nest, revealing a flash of tanned ankle beneath his short cut breeches. Like most of the crew he had taken to going barefoot. His shirt was open to the belt and his hair was wet from a recent dunking. “It’s hardly any cooler up here,” he observed. “But what a view....”

Jack scowled at him from where he had squashed himself back against the mast. There wasn't a lot of room in the crow’s nest at the best of times and certainly not space for two men unless they wanted to get intimately acquainted with each other. Now, if Will had been a woman with those legs....

Sparrow shook that thought out of his head. “Been at sea too long....” And likely to be at sea even longer now they were becalmed.

“What?” Will gave him a puzzled look.

“Nothing. Did you come to discuss the view, then, mate?”

“No, I came to discuss the fact that we’re becalmed and you’ve been hiding out up here all day.”

“Watching for the weather to change,” Jack said warily. 

“Anamaria said this calm isn't natural.”

“She’s a woman, lad. What does she know? Did she send you up here?” Sparrow eyed him suspiciously and peered over the side to check for her.

Will gave him a level look. “It was my idea. She says you picked up something in Tortuga that you shouldn’t have done.”

“Aye, well, fooling around with doxies will do that for you....” Jack retorted and had the satisfaction of seeing Will blush in embarrassment.

“That isn’t what I meant,” Turner responded indignantly. “Anamaria thinks you bought a box....”

“What box would that be then?”

“You know perfectly well what box. The one Mad Mackenzie wanted to sell you.”

“Oh....that box.....” Jack nodded wisely.  “Don’t know what she means.”

“The cursed box....”

“Don’t know anything about any cursed box.....”

“Oh Jack....”

Sparrow winced slightly. He was starting to dread it when Will used that tone and gave him a reproachful look. Surely the lad was supposed to be the one corrupted, not him. He liked being a pirate and he hadn’t been bothered by his conscience for a long time until Master William came along. “Look, so we’re a bit becalmed, it won’t last. You’re not in a hurry, are you? You sold your sword. Enjoy your last bit of freedom before you get chained to your wench. Think of the welcome dear Lizzie will give you when you get back late.”

“Her name’s Elizabeth....” Will snapped, practically purring her name with the air of the totally, helplessly in love.

Jack rolled his eyes. “And you haven’t even graced her bed yet....” he muttered, eyeing Will with a glint in his dark eyes that could tempt a saint to sin. “Or have you....?”

Will went scarlet again. “There’s no talking to you in this mood.”

“Good. Go below then.”

Will glared at him. “Anamaria says....”

“Here we go,” Jack sighed. “Does dear Lizzie know you talk about Anamaria all the time?”

“Elizabeth! And stop changing the subject. You know you’re in the wrong....”

Jack grinned, flashing a gold tooth at him. “A pirate is never in the wrong.”

The saint in Will was being sorely tempted to take a swing at the Captain. “The box has a curse on it,” he hissed through gritted teeth, determined not to be interrupted again. “No ship that has ever transported it has ever made port again.”

“Makes you wonder how it got to Tortuga then, doesn’t it?”

Will hesitated, then pushed on valiantly. “By land obviously.”

“Tortuga’s an island....”

“So help me, if you say you don’t believe in curses....”

“Now that’d be foolish of me considering. I know all sorts of curses, but as to this curse....” Jack shrugged, widening his kohl rimmed eyes at Will as he tapped ring clad fingers against his temple. “Mad Mackenzie has a sheet loose, lad. How’d you think he got the name?”

“Too much rum and sun perhaps?” Turner retorted sarcastically.

Jack glared at him for that. “I wouldn’t know. But no one believes a word Mackenzie says. He has philosophical conversations with his parrot.”

“You’re impossible!” Will snapped in exasperation and slid over the side of the crow’s nest, sliding rapidly into the rigging and making his way hand over hand back to the deck.

Jack peered after him, absently noting that his skill at sea had improved since his first voyage with the pirate. Certain Will had made it to the deck safely, he lifted the telescope once more to scan the distant clouds.

Peace, only the distant murmur of the waves far below and the creak of the Black Pearl as she oscillated gently along, barely moving at all. Jack was half asleep as he leaned against the mast, one leg popped against the side of the crow’s nest to brace him.

“Capt’n....”

“Curses,” Jack spat as he jumped violently.

Anamaria’s lovely dark face appeared over the edge of the crow’s nest as she pulled herself up into the rigging.

“Arh, me lovely, come a little closer....” Sparrow gave her a friendly leer and edged back against the mast, wriggling his fingers in invitation. There was definitely room for his first mate to get comfortable in the nest with him.

Anamaria ignored him as usual. “Will says you’re lying. You do have da box. He wants to search your cabin for it.”

“What box?” Jack repeated his denial warily. He was starting to fret about the way Will could see through him.

“Da one you bought off Mad Mackenzie.”

“My word as a pirate, love, I bought nothing off him,” Jack assured her with a flourish of his hands.

Anamaria frowned. “Then you won't mind if I help him search your cabin, will you?”

“Now, that’s invasion of privacy....”

“So? Pirates?”

Sparrow glared at her. “Don’t you trust me?” he said mournfully.

Anamaria smiled at him sweetly. “Isn't that what you said when you took me boat?”

Jack winced. “Look, we’re becalmed. It happens. Doesn't mean it’s got anything to do with some hypothetical curse on a box which I didn’t buy...”

“I’ll go and help him.”

“Anamaria, love....” Jack spread his hands wide in appeal as he leaned over the edge of the crow’s nest as she started down.

“Don’t you love me. And your kohl’s starting to run....”

                                                            * * *

“This feels wrong....” Will said uncertainly as he hesitated in the doorway of Jack’s cabin. Anamaria gave him an impatient push in the back and shoved him inside. “Maybe Jack was telling us the truth....”

“Da man doesn't know what de truth is.” Anamaria snapped as she shot a speculative look around the cabin and headed for the large sea trunk under the window. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Isn't this mutiny or something?”

“Pirates share everything. It’s only mutiny if we didn't tell him first.”

“Even so....” Will muttered, reluctantly shifting aside a velvet drape to peer behind it.

 “Besides, we’re becalmed and I know it’s got something to do with de box. Ooh, will you look at this.....” Anamaria held up a coat of fine red velvet with a silk lining and silver embroidery. “Captain’s a dandy....” She laughed, holding it up against her slim body.

“And your box is too big to be fitting in those pockets, me love,” Jack said darkly from the doorway. “Were you planning on getting your hands on me drawers as well? Or was it a bit of pick-pocketing you were after?”

Anamaria flushed and hastily dropped the coat back in the trunk. “I was looking for the box,” she told him.

“I thought you said you didn't have the box. So why did you come down?” Turner wanted to know.

“Couldn’t have Lizzie hearing about you two shutting yourself away in my cabin without a chaperone, could I? I’d never hear the last of you getting debauched before she’s had a chance to do it herself.”

Will went bright red as Anamaria glanced at him and laughed. “He’s too much a gentleman, Jack. Now where’s de box?”

“No box,” Sparrow said flatly, sweeping them both a bow before he flounced over to the trunk and frowned at Anamaria. “Now, would you be kind enough as to get out of me cabin? I fancy a nap.”

Anamaria glared at him but stomped out, pushing past him. Will followed her more slowly and paused in the doorway, jumping as Jack slammed the lid of the trunk down.

“I'm sorry, Jack,” he mumbled uncomfortably. “Anamaria insisted we looked....”

“You’re going to have to learn to say no to woman, mate. Now would be a good time to learn before Lizzie gets her chains on you.”

“She’s called Elizabeth!” Will snapped and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

Jack sat down slowly on his bunk, staring at the windows that looked out from the stern of the pirate ship. The storm clouds were growing thicker and more sullen with every breath, seeming to stalk the slow moving vessel. Sinking slowly onto his back, Jack crossed one leg over the other and stared thoughtfully at the roof of his cabin. “Oh, Mack, me old mate, what have you got me into this time....”

                                                            * * *

The storm had hit with a vengeance, blasting the hapless ship with violent winds that set her to tossing and quivering helplessly, heeling before the vicious gusts that tore through her rigging and whipped the sea into a frenzy.  Rain lashed at her and turned the waves into a frothing maelstrom that no one who fell overboard would have stood a chance of surviving.  

Sparrow emerged from his cabin before it hit, timing with uncanny instinct the moment the storm would reach the ship. Now he clung to the wheel, clothes sodden from sea spume and rain, face running with water that he had to constantly scrub from his face with one soaking wet sleeve so he could see. He kept her bows aimed firmly into the current, keeping her head up as the winds threatened to tear down her mast and shred her canvas to scraps.

Will clawed his way along the deck, clinging to anything that presented a handhold until he could reach the pirate captain. “Jack!” he screamed above the raging wind.

“I sent you below with the others!” Sparrow had sent his entire crew below, knowing there was nothing they could do on deck except drown.

“We have to do something!”

“Any suggestions would be welcome!” Sparrow screamed back, then paused to spit out a bit of seaweed that had somehow managed to slap accurately into his mouth.

“We’re going to be wrecked!”

“Nah! We’ll be swamped long before we hit anything!”

Will shook his head, flinging stands of wet hair out of face. “We have to give up the box before this wind tears us apart!”

Jack eyed him narrowly, squinting through the stinging rain. “You were complaining about being becalmed a while ago!”

Clinging to the bucking wheel with him, Will shook his head frantically. “Don’t you see? For all the wind, we’re not moving! “

Jack didn't answer. He was well aware of the unnatural nature of the winds tearing at his ship and it unnerved him. Not that he was going to admit it though. No chance that he was going to admit to the young blacksmith that he might possibly, by some weird chance, have been, well not wrong, but mistaken about the box perhaps....

“Jack! Please...” Will caught at his arm and gave him a pleading look. “She can’t take much more!”

“You think I don’t know that!” Sparrow looked around him wildly, hearing the agonising shrieks and moans of his tormented ship.

“If there’s anything you can do, if the box is here....”

“You honestly think throwing it overboard is going to do any good?”

“Then you do have it!”

“Sod it....” Jack growled bitterly. Blasted cunning young puppy.....

Will however didn't look triumphant, merely relieved as if Jack had somehow given him back hope that had been torn to shreds by the winds. “Where is it?”

“Where you won’t find it!” Jack answered, ducking as a flying fish was hurled past his ear at a rate of knots.

Overhead, the spars creaked violently and a rope snapped, flailing the air like a whip. Jack stared up into the ink black darkness, seeing the electrical snapping of hellish red lights around the masthead. He could feel the icy chill of the winds biting into his bare hands, chewing through to his bones....

Will suddenly dived to his knees, yanking Jack down with him as a solid pulley block went crashing past them to shatter against the rail. The blacksmith’s eyes were wide, his jaw clenched tight as he fought his own fright...

Jack had to admit to feeling a mite nervous himself.... He was used to bad weather, but the sea actually seemed to be aiming things at him,,,,

He had seen strange lights playing over ships before, knew what they foretold. Some called the eerie greenish flickers that danced over the spars, ghosts. Jack didn't know what they were, but he knew he had never seen anything like the hellish lights that made the mast look as it was on fire...

Taking a deep breath, he clawed his way back up the wheel, dragging Turner up with him. “Help me tie off the wheel!” he bellowed into his ear. “I’ll get the box....”

                                                            * * *

Bracing himself for a second against the table with his hip, Jack caught his balance and then set the box down. It was a small box, no more than the size of a small tea caddy, made from a dark polished wood and with a silver lock set in it. In fact, Will was half convinced it was a tea caddy.

“That’s it?”

“Aye, that’s it,” Jack said sourly. “Not much to look at, is it?”

“No...” Will admitted dubiously.

“Hardly looks cursed at all....”

“No....” Will agreed even more dubiously.

“That’s because it isn’t!” Sparrow exploded in frustration.

Will lifted his head and gave him a hurt look. “You said you didn't have it.”

“I said I hadn't bought it.”

Turner glared at him. “You lied....”

“Not exactly. More sort of evaded telling you everything.  I didn’t buy it. I only agreed to take it to Port Royal for Mack. He promised me the box wasn't cursed or I’d never have touched it....”

“Oh Jack....” Turner groaned. “How could you?”

Sparrow’s eyes glinted with glee. “He paid me well for it.”

“And I suppose the gold got in the way of your common sense...”

“I never mentioned gold,” Jack protested hastily, but Will wasn’t listening.

“...because otherwise you’d never have listened to a man no one believes a word of?”

“Ah.....well, me and Mack go back a long way. I trust him.”

“Please, don’t say anything about the pirate code,” Will moaned. “Maybe he told you the box was cursed, but what about the contents?”

Sparrow glared at him and fished out a length of fine chain he wore beneath his sea damp shirt. “Look, ‘tis nothing but a few gems he wants to sell to a certain man in Port Royal. Being as Mackenzie’s a mite noticeable what with the parrot and all...”

“And you’re not?”

“....he asked me to attend to it for him.”

“And you promised to take him all the profits the same way he told you the box wasn’t cursed?” Will waved an eloquent hand at the ceiling where the sea crashed noisily across the upper deck. His eyes widened. “You weren’t going to ask me to get involved in this were you?”

Screwing up his nose in disgust and muttering under his breath, Jack shoved the key into the lock and gave it a brisk turn. A bright glitter greeted him as he cracked open the lid. “There, see? Gems....”

“Gems can be cursed....” Will said briskly, leaning forward to peer into the box.

Shaped of black crystal, the hollow eyes of a perfectly carved skull stared back at him, winking with the glitter of blue fire in their depths. Turner recoiled, bumping into an equally startled Sparrow.

“Well, now, that’s interesting....” Jack murmured as he recovered from his surprise and leaned forward to peer at the skull. “What’s this then? Black diamond maybe?”

Grabbing his shoulder, Will pulled him back. “Don’t touch it!”

“Why? Not scared are you?”

“Yes! Listen!”

“Listen to what?” Jack sniffed. “There’s nothing.....”

He stopped, head cocked as he listened intently. The tremendous noise of the waves had stopped, the creaking of the ship had faded into a gentle languorous murmur and the roar of the wind had dropped to a peaceful sigh....

“Oh....”

Will was already leaping for the door, bounding off out of the cabin and out onto the deck. With an uneasy glance at the silently staring skull, Jack raced after him and scrambled after the younger man into a thick as carded wool fog. He walked into Turner who jumped a foot and nearly punched him before he recognised the pirate captain and grabbed hold of his arm instead. The two of them stood close together, feeling the damp chill of the pallid fog licking their skin. The sound of the wind was like something breathing out in the unseen mists....

Jack was the first to move, prowling towards the rail, cursing as he tripped over a stray bucket. He peered over, staring down at the water that lay glass smooth and grey green beneath their keel.

“Are we aground?” Will worried, coming up beside him.

“No, we’d have known it if we hit a shoal.” Turning, Jack peered up at the mast, studying the ghostly shape of the lower spars. Scowling, he started to peel out of his wet full skirted jacket.  “I’d best go up and have a look from the crow’s nest, see what I can see.”

“You want me to do it?”

“No, go look below. See where the others are. They should be on deck by now....”

                                                            * * *

It was a long climb up the mast, picking his way slowly from barely glimpsed rigging to spar to mast. Each handhold was slick and greasy to the touch and several times as he slipped, fright leapt through him as he scrambled precariously upwards. But he wouldn’t have sent Will aloft. His sea legs he might have found, but the young blacksmith was nowhere near skilled enough for this climb. Jack had seen more experienced men fall from the mast in better weather than this and he had no wish to be washing bits of Will Turner from the decks.

Finally he swung one leg over the edge of the crow’s nest and collapsed gratefully inside. Once he had caught his breath, he dragged himself to his feet and peered out into the gloom. From the height of the mast, the fog was indeed thinner as he had hoped. But still all he could see was the empty sea with barely a ripple of movement in sight.

“Jack!” Will’s voice sounded faint and far away, muffled by the fog.

“There’s nothing to see, mate!” Jack called back.

“There’s no one on board but us either!”

“What?” Jack nearly fell out of the crow’s nest and made a hastily grab at a rope handhold, winding his fingers into a firm grip. His stomach churned uneasily for he couldn’t see the ship below let alone young Turner.

“I said, there’s no one else on board! Everyone’s gone.”

“That can’t be! There’s nowhere for them to go.”

“Tell them that! Please, Jack, come down and look for yourself....”

Will sounded scared and Jack bit his lip, looking out again into the eerie fog that rippled and swirled around the ship in a way that no natural fog would do. Was it his imagination or could he see faces in that mist?

“Jack, please?!”

The lad was definitely scared and Jack was not naturally a cruel man. “All right, lad, hold your sail. I'm coming...”

A crackle from overhead made him look up, focusing on the wan greenish light that played fitfully around the masthead.

The mournful cry that echoed out of the fog made him jump in fright and he clutched at the mast, looking round wildly as it seemed to go on and on, screaming in anguish as if the ship was having her heart torn out....

When it finally faded away, the silence seemed even louder.

No bird had made that terrible sound....

There was a tremendous crash from below, the surging gush of water struck by great force and the whole ship lurched and dipped, nearly throwing Jack from his perch as she wallowed to starboard

Clawing his way out of the bottom of the nest where he had been thrown and favouring his wrist where it had twisted against the rope, Jack once more peered deckwards. If the Black Pearl listed much more she would swamp....

“Will! What’s going on down there?! Are you all right?!”

There was no answer but the return of that dreadful sobbing scream that snatched Jack’s voice away in dry mouthed terror....

The ship lurched again, bobbing upwards with a surge that once more nearly threw Jack from the nest.

A huge splash sounded somewhere off to starboard and when he looked he thought he saw a thick grey black eel like something vanishing into the waves.....

“Will?!” His own alarm alarming him, Jack slung one leg over the side of the nest and grabbed for the ropes, sliding agilely hand over hand downwards as fast as he could to get to the deck....

Will felt his skin crawl as he crept down the ladder into the muffled silence below decks. Shreds of mist wriggled even here, sliding away as he walked past them and making him shiver with their cold clammy touch. Anamaria’s cabin was empty when he checked, but thinking she would be with the crew, he picked his way down the gangway to the galley. It too was empty; tankards left half full on the galley table, a plate of stew half empty, a handful of playing pieces left on a board....

Feeling more and more uneasy Will crept onwards, venturing into the hold where the crew’s hammocks swung gently like some spider’s giant cocoons.

On the ladder down to the brig and the bilge, he hesitated, aware of the smell before and feeling only a rising dread at the thought of going down into the darkness. Down there only the thin width of the ship’s planning separated him from the depths of the ocean....

“Ahoy! Is anyone there?” he started to call, lifting his voice urgently. “This isn't funny....”

No one answered him. Only the lonely creak of a ship abandoned....

The confines below decks was suddenly too much and he fled back to the upper decks, needing open air. Racing up onto the deck, he got thick fog that smelled vaguely of rotting seaweed rather than the ocean.

Stumbling over to the mast, he clutched at the solid security of the wood and peered upwards into the fog, hailing the Captain. To his relief, Sparrow answered promptly but sounded unconvinced by Turner’s tale of the missing crew. Still he agreed to come down and Will started to relax a fraction, only to freeze in horror at the terrible cry that ripped through the fog and made him shudder to his bones.

For one terrifying moment he thought Jack had slipped and at any second would tumble out of the fog....

Then something slammed into the side of the ship, tossing the startled blacksmith from his feet as she dipped violently towards the side. Will slid across the deck, scrabbling frantically for a handhold....

A grey black eel like something snaked through the air, questing across the deck, groping with snake like hunger...

Will grabbed a rope and clung to it, curling up into a tight ball as the tentacle twisted across the deck leaving a slimy path across the fog wet decks. It groped towards him, seeming to sense where he was....A spiky tentacle tip touched his foot, started to slither over bare flesh to curl about his ankle....

Turner grabbed for a marlinspike and without thinking, drove it into the tentacle with all his strength, pinning it to the deck’’.

The tentacle convulsed, ripped free and recoiled as the ear sundering scream rang out once more....

And the Black Pearl leapt upwards, shedding the weight that had heeled her over in the water and sending Will slithering back the other way to slam into the mast with bone bruising force.....

                                                            * * *

“Will? Will, lad, wake up....”

The burning taste of rum dribbling between his lips brought Turner choking and spluttering back to life, avoiding the flask Sparrow held to his mouth.

“Ah, good, you’re alive then,” Jack said with cheerful humour. “I was starting to think I’d be throwing you over the side....”

Will glared at him as he struggled into a sitting position and gingerly felt the back of his head. Squinting slightly, he peered at the mast beside him and then turned back to the Captain. “What happened?”

Taking a mouthful of the rum, Jack slapped the stopper back into the flask and tucked it away inside his shirt. “You hit your head.”

“I know I hit my head! What happened before that? What was that thing?”

“Thing?” Jack eyed him cautiously.

“That, that thing. With the tentacles! It grabbed me. Didn’t you hear it scream?”

“When it grabbed you?” Jack asked interestedly.

“Before that! Then when I stabbed it....”

“Wasn’t you that screamed then?”

“Jack!” Exploding in exasperation, Will flailed his way to his feet, noting the hand Jack casually tucked under his arm barely long enough to steady him. He led the way across the deck, aware that the fog seemed to have lightened a little.

The marlinspike was where he had left it, still driven into the wooden decking that had splintered where the creature had pulled free of it.

“There? See?!”

Jack folded his arms, eyeing the spike. “You’ve been damaging my ship, Master Turner,” he observed sourly, then crouched lithely to examine the spike and the shreds of grey black skin and scraps of reddish grey flesh still secured to the deck by it. Worrying the marlinspike free, he held it up and examined the shreds carefully, sniffing them gingerly. “Looks like sharkskin,” he observed. “But it don’t smell like shark and the flesh is the wrong colour for it.”

“Aren’t you going to taste it too?” Will asked sarcastically.

Jack cocked his head to one side and brought the flesh to his lips, then laughed at Turner’s horrified expression and shook his head. “I'm not of a mind to be poisoned!”

Will pulled a face in exasperation and crouched beside him. “What is it then? A sea monster?” he suggested tentatively.

Jack looked at him slowly, then lifted his head and gazed out into the fog. Out there in the mists something moved and water slapped, vibrating along the hull of the ship. “There’s some as would say there’s no such thing as sea monsters,” he said softly.

“And some as would say Captain Jack Sparrow’s fought two before breakfast.”

Jack grinned engagingly at him, brown eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah now, that would be an exaggeration seeing as there was only the one of them.”

Will grimaced in exasperation. Half the time he never knew whether to take Sparrow’s words for truth or lie. Too often he had thought he lied, only to be proved wrong. Jack was a lot more than he seemed and far more than an average pirate.

Sparrow unfolded himself and ambled over to the side with a lazy stride. The smooth polished top rail was scarred and splintered where something had torn into it. “Ah....” he said thoughtfully as he patted the rail gently.

“Ah?” Will prompted, peering over his shoulder at the scars and reluctant to come any closer to the water than he had to.

“Aye, ah.....”

“You have to be the most exasperating man alive!” Turner spat. “What is it?”

“Sea monster...”

“Jack!”

“Kraken, maybe a giant squid, but a kraken I’d say.”

“There’s no such thing!”

Jack cocked his head to one side, gazing mildly at the younger man. “You’re the one who mentioned sea monsters.”

“Yes, but, but.....”

“You know anything else with long tentacles that could half sink a ship by merely giving her an affectionate cuddle?”

Will ran both hands through his hair and winced as a bruise protested. “What about the crew?” he said desperately. “Where’d they go? Where’d this fog come from? What has this got to do with the box?”

“Good questions all of them. You’re sure the crew’s missing?”

“Vanished completely.”

Jack sniffed and handed him the marlinspike. “Best go take a look then....” he said easily and ambled off towards the hatch.

Flinging aside the marlinspike with a disgusted look, Will raced after him, unwilling to be left alone on deck with nothing but the fog....

                                                            * * *

“Are you serious? You’ve really seen a kraken?” Will gazed at Sparrow wide eyed as he followed the pirate along the companionway.

“Aye. Would I lie to you?” Jack said soberly.

“Yes.”

Sparrow gave him a slow look and a rueful little grin quirked his lips. “Aye, so I would. But not this time. I saw a kraken true enough. It was a small one. Got itself beached....Oddest looking creature I ever did see. Tentacles as long as a ship with suckers the size of soup plates full of claws. Beak like a parrot but razor sharp and big as a cave....Must have had quite an appetite....”

“So you didn't fight it before breakfast?”

Jack grinned. “Beached itself in terror on hearing that I was in its waters no doubt.”

Will snorted, but the tale had lifted his spirits and he looked around the ship’s galley as they entered with less trepidation than he had felt before. “Where’d you think they’ve gone?” he asked uneasily however.

“Ah now, maybe we should be asking where we’ve gone?”

“What?”

“A philosophical point, lad, savvy? Maybe we were killed and this is...what comes after....”

Turner stared at him. “But that thing attacked me, I know it did....”

“Demon....” Jack said succinctly.

“It wasn’t a demon!”

“How do you know? You ever seen one?”

“No! And don't go telling me you have! Jack! You’re not taking this seriously. What if the, the kraken comes back? It could sink the ship.”

“A good broadside will discourage it,” Sparrow mused as he fished into his pocket and took out the compass that was never far from his side. Popping open its cover, he gazed at it thoughtfully and watched its needle spin ineffectively around the dial, worrying him with its lack of decision. Finally, it settled, quivering but pointing over his shoulder towards the stern of the ship and the Captain’s cabin. He closed it gently and tucked it away again, looking up into Will’s worried brown eyes. “Shall we go see what the box is doing, lad?” he suggested quietly. “It would seem it has more to do with this than we might think....”

                                                            * * *

The box was exactly where they had left it, sitting in the middle of the table with the black skull staring at them, the twin points of light deep in its sockets glowing with the same unnatural blue eyes. The greyish light through the windows that made up the stern of the ship and the captain’s cabin lent a slick oily shimmer to its sleek crystal surface.

“I think it’s staring at us,” Will whispered as he and Sparrow hesitated in the doorway.

“Hasn’t much option, has it? Not having eyelids and all....” Jack whispered back.

Turner turned his head and gave him an incredulous look. “You.......”

“Yes?” Sparrow grinned.

“Never mind. What do you do now?” Will said through gritted teeth.

“Me?”

“You’re the captain as you’re so fond of reminding me.”

“And as such I can order you to do something about it.”

“And I can remind you that I don't have to do what you won’t do yourself.”

“Who says?”

“Pirate code.”

“Guidelines,” Jack sniffed, but he looked annoyed.

Will waited to see what he would do next, eyeing him hopefully. Sparrow however merely folded his arms and leaned negligently against the doorframe, crossing his long legs at the ankles.

“It’s your fault...” Turner prompted.

Jack quirked an eyebrow at him. “Since when?”

“You’re the one who opened the box....”

“At your prompting.”

“But you brought it on board. And as captain it’s your responsibility,”

Sparrow rolled his eyes. “What did I do to deserve being landed with a conscience?” he muttered darkly. “It’s a sour thing for a pirate to have.”

Will flashed a grin at him. “Having a conscience is what got you marooned by Barbossa, so you can’t blame me for it....” he reminded him.

“But you didn't have to go and polish it now, did you?” Jack snorted irritably. “What do you expect me to do anyway? I don’t know what this curse is. Do you?”

Nibbling his lower lip, Will leaned against the door frame on his side, unconsciously copying Jack’s pose. “Well, it started when you brought the box on board....”

“Not until we got well out to sea it didn’t. And the weather calmed down when we opened it....”

“But the crew disappeared and we got attacked by the kraken,” Will slid an uncomfortable look at the captain. “Maybe if you put it back the crew would come back....”

“And we’d be back to being on the verge of sinking? Not good....” Sparrow’s expression was unreadable as he studied the skull; eyelids or not he was half sure it was winking at him. But it might have been the motion of the ship making the light shift across it.

“We have to do something.”

“Do we?”

“We’re going nowhere fast and how long can we survive adrift at sea with a kraken after us?”

Jack half shrugged. “For all we know we can sail all the way to Tortuga if we want.”

“You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

“We could raise the sails and find out.”

“And abandon the crew?”

“Those that fall behind....”

“Jack.....” Will murmured reproachfully.

Sparrow scowled at him. “All right, all right, it was only a thought.....”

“Didn’t Mackenzie tell you anything about the box?”

“Other than that there was no curse? No. What did Anamaria tell you about it?”

“That no ship that ever carried it ever made port....” Will said gloomily.

“Can’t believe all you hear,” Jack pointed out. “One at least must have.”

“Or maybe it was thrown overboard before it could sink them....?” Will suggested, brightening up.

A slow grin spread over Sparrow’s face. “Now there’s an idea,” he smirked, but the smile faded uncertainly. “But will it bring the crew back?”

 “Oh....” Turner slumped in disappointment.

“They could be safer than we are,” Jack murmured. “I think....” He looked at the skull slowly, frowning at it. “It wanted to be at sea or it wouldn't have let us sail,” he said carefully. “And it singled us out from the crew. Why?”

“We let it out of the box. We’re the ones who saw it first.”

“Maybe. A cursed skull, but cursed to do what?” Jack wondered, shaking his head.

“Where did Mackenzie get it from?”

“He said Barbossa sold it to him. Maybe that’s why he thought there was no curse. Maybe one curse cancels another out....”

“Or it was lying in wait until it got what it wanted?” Will said nervously, licking dry lips. “They weren’t exactly....alive.....after all.”

Jack gave him a critical look. “So what does it want?” he said softly and stirred, standing away from the door frame to amble over the table and glare down at the skull. “Well?” he demanded impatiently. “What is it you want from us?”

“Do you expect it to answer?” Turner asked dryly, but he had followed Jack and stood close to his shoulder, staring at the skull as if defying it to move.

Jack turned his head slightly to eye him, a faint smile playing around his lips as he studied the nervous look on his face. He could almost see his tension increasing as he leaned slightly towards him and whispered in his ear, “Boo!”

Will jumped a foot and shot backwards, grabbing for his sword as Sparrow laughed. “That wasn't funny!”

“Oh, yes it was!” Jack chortled back, suddenly feeling better.

Will’s eyes had rounded however and he pointed past Jack at the skull, a flicker of panic crossing his face.

“You don’t catch me out that way,” Sparrow snorted, then hesitated, wondering where the ghostly blue shimmer playing over Turner’s face was coming from. Very, very slowly, he turned his head to look over his shoulder....

The skull was glowing vibrantly as if lit from within by an intense blue black fire....

Jack leaped away from the table as if it had scalded him and collided with Will in the hatchway. For a second they clung to each other, then Sparrow pulled himself together and wrenched free, turning to face the skull again.

“I don’t know what you’re bloody up to,” he snarled. “But I'm not having it! You’re not having me, Will, my crew or my ship!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t provoke it,” Will whispered, catching at his arm.

“Maybe it should stop provoking me!” Jack yelled indignantly. “I haven’t done anything to it! I'm innocent!” he could feel Will’s eyes boring into him and waved one hand wildly. “Well, innocent of this anyway! But if you, it, whatever you are, don’t stop glowing right now I'm going to carve you into little bits and sell them....”

“Throw them overboard?”

“Overboard?”

“Yes.”

“Throw them overboard!”

Jack’s threats didn't seem to impress the skull. If anything the glow grew brighter and brighter, painfully dazzling their eyes until both men were forced to look away.

Swearing under his breath, Jack grabbed Turner’s arm and towed him out of the cabin, slamming the door shut violently behind him.

The glow pierced through the gap beneath the door, casting an eerie shimmer over their feet. Mist eddied with it, swirling slowly and forming icy little fingers that licked at cloth and skin in a chill wind....

Will and Jack retreated hastily. At the steps they paused to watch the mist slowly rolling along the deck after them.

“I think you annoyed it,” Will murmured.

Jack snorted. “Good!” he spat irritably, frowning at the mist. “Where’d I leave me jacket?”

“You’re worried about your jacket now?”

“No, I'm cold!” Sparrow exploded sarcastically and gave him an exasperated look before he turned to bound towards the mast. With a nervous glance at the mist, Will followed him, glad to be back in the open air even if it was thick with the bands of grey fog drifting across the ship.

Sparrow had found his jacket and was busily going through the assortment of bits and pieces in the voluminous pockets. Spare pistol balls, a power flask, a red garter ribbon that made Jack smile in wicked reminiscence and finally a packet of papers that he pounced on with glee.

“Ah hah!” he yelped, sitting down cross legged on the deck to slice off the sealing wax with his knife.

“Ah hah?” Curious, Will crouched beside him.

“Mackenzie gave me these to take to Port Royal for him. To go with the box they were. I thought nothing of it. Mack’s turned merchant on me. True, he’s not very good at it, but he makes the effort and I like to help him out....”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Will said in surprise. “You really were going to do as he asked and take the profits back to him.”

“We made a bargain. We shook on it.....The scurvy sea rat that he is! He double crossed me this time!”

“Never trust a pirate?” Will murmured sweetly.

Jack gave him a fierce glare. “Like I said, he turned merchant. I should have known better...” He shook his head, staring at the papers in his hand. There was a lost look in his eyes, a hurt look....

“Maybe he didn't know, Jack,” Turner offered consolingly. He didn't want to see Jack thinking his friend had betrayed him. It made him ache inside for the loss. He wished suddenly to see Elizabeth again, to hold her..... Desperately, he shook the feeling off. “If Barbossa sold it to him, you can wager he wouldn't have told him.”

“No....” Jack lifted his head slightly and shrugged a little, then started to unfold the papers. “A map....” he said quietly, smoothing the crumpled parchment across his knees.

A chill shivered through the blacksmith and Will shifted round to sit closer, suddenly lonely and wanting to be close enough to sit with his shoulder touching that of the older man. The light contact made him feel less despondent about their plight. “Anywhere you recognise?”

“No.” A dark glitter sparkled in Jack’s eyes. “It’s not a treasure map if that’s what you’re thinking, lad. Pirates don’t make treasure maps despite the stories.”

 “Don’t they?” Will was genuinely interested.

“Loot gets shared out and as soon as we get it, we spend it. You only get maps in books.”

“What this then?” Will teased.

“A puzzle. You know what these squiggles are?” Jack stabbed a finger at the parchment.

“No....”

“Aztec,” Jack said grimly. “That’s what, they are! MacKenzie’s lumbered us with another Aztec bloody curse. I reckon this is a map of where the blasted thing was found by them, them....concubines!”

“I think you mean conquistadors, Jack,” Will suggested with a weak grin. “You’re getting a bit excited....”

Sparrow gave him a sharp look, then suddenly let his grin sparkle out from hiding. “You’re right, lad.” The smile wavered, fading as he gazed thoughtfully at Will and realised how close he was. “You feel it too?”

“Feel what?”

“A cold sadness, loneliness.....”

Turner nibbled his bottom lip uncertainly. “I was thinking of Elizabeth....I thought you were....upset about MacKenzie betraying you and that made it worse....”

“More of the curse. Never had no problems with melancholia before....A good swig of rum soon fixes it.....Want some?” Jack fished out his flask.

“Any excuse for a drink?”

“Don’t need an excuse,” Jack snorted as he took a brisk swig and offered Will the flask again.

Will took it and sipped, then handed it back hastily.

“Put hairs on your chest....”

“I don’t think Elizabeth would like hairs on my chest....”

“Well, there certainly aren’t any on hers....” Jack cackled. “And I've probably seen more of it than you have. What with stripping off her corset and all....”

“Jack....” Will began with a snarl, then caught himself.  Sparrow was no more than being his usual annoying, taunting, provocative self. Elizabeth had chosen him, blacksmith Will Turner over several other better choices. He had nothing to fear from anyone else. She loved him....

“Aye, Will, she does....” Jack said softly, startling Will into looking up at him and blushing as he realised he had spoken aloud. “You’re a lucky lad to have a woman like that. I envy you that if not the shackles she’ll put on you.”

“I’m looking forward to it!”

“Kinky.”

“Not like that! I mean.....Oh, you know what I mean!”

“Aye, so I do,” Jack chuckled, clearly feeling better enough to turn to examining the other papers. “Ah....” he said softly as a slim volume slid out of the packet into his hand. “We appear to have a journal....” With Will peering over his shoulder, he started to read. “So,” he said after a few moments. “They got lumbered with it same as we did. Some idiot historian bought it and wanted to ship it home....”

“On the Barracuda?” Will said after a moment. “I know that name....”

“Aye, you should. Norrington was after the ship that attacked her. The historian kicked up a big fuss when she turned up in port without his precious cargo.”

Turner considered this. “Wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the particular ship we happen to be on right now, would it?”

“Bad things happen to cursed ships,” Jack mused. “Barbossa appears to have been one of them. That must be how he got hold of the skull. Probably thought it might help him with the curse. By the way, even if this here journal does tell of the curse, Mack wouldn't know about it.”

“What was to stop him reading it too?”

Jack smiled mirthlessly. “Mack can’t read, but he won’t admit it unless he has to. He wouldn't have been interested enough in this to get anyone to read it to him.” He flicked over a few more pages of the book, idly studying a page here and there. “Hmmh......look at this, lad.”

“It would seem we’re not the only ones who suffered from melancholia,” Will said quietly as he read the passage Sparrow indicated. “It must be the curse then. If the Barracuda’s crew was uneasy too....”

“But none of them disappeared,” Jack commented thoughtfully.

“Maybe Barbossa got to them first.”

“Could be,” Jack agreed quietly as he frowned. “These waters were Barbossa’s favourite haunts. The crew of the Barracuda might have been lucky at that.”

“To have been attacked by the Black Pearl?”

“To have survived being attacked by Barbossa. And if getting the skull off the ship broke the curse all we have to do is chuck it overboard,” Sparrow corrected. He shivered as a gust of cold wind blasted suddenly around them, setting the jacket draped across his knees to flapping. Curious, Jack looked up at the mast head, a semi invisible tree groping upwards through the fog. His dark eyes widened as the fog was pulled this way and that, twisting into new leering shapes in the half darkness. “Interesting....”

“What is?” Will followed his gaze upwards but could see nothing.

“Can’t you see them?” Jack shot a sharp look at him.

“See what?”

“The faces, so many faces....”

“No, I...” Will paused, feeling a sensation of dread crawling across his skin as the blank canvas of the fog started to resolve itself into contorted screaming faces. They spun around the ship, a vast wall of faces leering down at them, silently jeering and mocking them....

“Like a crowd watching a hanging....” Jack said bitterly.

The scream erupted out of the fog, rising and falling with an eerie screech that torn metal and rending wood, like the sound of a ship breaking her heart on the shoals....

Jack shuddered and pressed his hands to the smooth wood of the mast behind him, feeling a quiver run through his ship. “Easy, girl, easy.....I’m here....” he whispered in instinctive comfort.

“Jack! Look!” Turner bounded to his feet, pointing out into the fog as a dark vast shape loomed up like a nightmare.

A tentacle lashed out of the gloom, a razor edged whip to take the skin from a man’s body....

Jack kicked Will’s feet from under him and grabbed the blacksmith, rolling away into the shelter of the deck hatch as the tentacle’s lash slammed into the deck where Will had stood. It groped for them, probing and thrashing then whipped back over the side with the quickness of a snake.

“You bloody idiot! You don’t have to stand up to get its attention!” Sparrow growled at Will in exasperation, tempted to smack the blacksmith round the ear but certain Turner would only hit him back.

The kraken screamed again and in response the ghostly faces in the fog screamed and gibbered, cheering it on....

The ship shuddered and bucked, clutched at from below, her timbers creaking as the kraken seized her. Tentacles swarmed over her sides, worming their way across the decks in a writhing vampiric hunger for flesh and blood....

 A barbed tip smashed through the hatch cover, showering the men with splinters and shards of wood.

Jack moved first, slithering frantically away from the hatch as Will scrambled after him.

A second later and the tentacles burst upwards through the deck where they had been flailing wildly in search of them before ripping free of the hatch in disappointment and withdrawing over the side.  

“Stop attacking my ship!” Sparrow yelled in outrage, scrambling to his feet. Drawing his sword, he laid into the nearest tentacle, hacking it in two. Greyish red blood burst from the severed tentacle, pouring across the deck as the horrible scream deafened them and the remains of the tentacle retreated. “Oh, no you don’t!” Jack sped after it, determined to get in a few more blows before it escaped him.

“Jack!” Will screamed as he lunged after him, but he wasn’t quite quick enough to catch up as a new tentacle exploded out of the fog, lashing towards the pirate captain with terrifying speed. It caught Sparrow across the back, lifted him off the feet and sent him hurtling across the deck to crash into the steps leading to the forecastle. The tentacle went after him, barbed point aimed like a marlinspike at its victim.

“No!” Turner caught up before it could spear the captain. As the tentacle reared up to lunge, Will slashed out, slicing the barbed tip off so that it was a bloody club that slammed into the deck as Jack rolled groggily aside.

The kraken screamed, its tentacles beating the fog to cream and the waves to froth that boiled up over the sides of the trapped ship.

Panting in fright, Will grabbed his friend by the back of his shirt and dragged him under the steps. “Jack! Jack!” Shaking him violently, Will yelled his name until Sparrow slapped at his hands.

“Let go!” he croaked, fending the blacksmith off and flopping back onto the deck with a groan. After a second, he hissed and turned on to one hip, sliding a ginger hand across the small of his back and bringing it away slick with blood.

“You’re bleeding....” Will whispered in alarm.

“I know I'm bleeding, you idiot!” Jack snapped, then softened slightly at the genuine anguish he saw in the younger man’s eyes. “I'm all right....”

The kraken howled and wood crunched above them as it attacked the forecastle. A tentacle slithered over the steps above them, seeking a grip to rip them free and expose its prey like winkling a snail from its shell.

The Black Pearl moaned as if in pain and quivered, shivering under the attack....

Jack’s eyes narrowed and he dragged himself up on one arm, forcing his aching legs to respond. “Enough....” he growled. “It’s not sinking my ship...”

“Should you move?” Will worried.

“Taken a flogging worse than that,” Jack growled at him. “Give me a hand, mate. We need to get below....”

“The way that thing goes through wood, it could sink us....” Will fretted as he nonetheless helped Sparrow to get up.

“Not if I can help it. That skull goes overboard right now....”

“You think that’ll break the curse?”

“You have a better idea?” Jack demanded over his shoulder as he lurched unsteadily through the hatchway into the captain’s cabin.

Pale blue white mist swirled through his ankles as Will followed him, his grip on his sword so tight it made his fingers ache.

                                                            * * *

The skull was sitting on the table, pulsing softly to itself. Its eerie blue black glow cast strange shadows around the cabin until it seemed that on the very edges of vision something moved, stepping lightly, stalking them....

And yet when Will turned his head to look, there was nothing there but darkness and shadow....

“It’s moved,” Jack said thoughtfully, studying the skull with a scowl.

“What?” Turner tore his eyes away from the shadows with an effort.

“It’s moved. It’s not in the box....”

Will gaped at him, then looked uneasily at the skull. It had indeed moved. The skull now sat on its own a good foot or so from the box. There was something else too...

“Does it look bigger to you?” he whispered.

“Now you come to mention it, aye, it does....” Sparrow muttered grimly.

“What do you think it means?” Will fretted.

“Probably that it won’t go back in the bloody box,” Jack answered with a sour little grimace. “Maybe we should forget about dropping it over the side....”

“Jack!”

“....and stuff it in a cannon and fire it off instead....”

Despite his worry, Will grinned at the idea. His grin faded however as he caught the glimpse of an angry red flutter of fire in the skull’s eye sockets. Fire was every sailor’s nightmare. A fire at sea meant nowhere to go.... His skin cringed from the imagined feel of the hot red tongue running over his body, crisping his skin to blackened ash....

Jack stirred, noting the ripples of red running through the skull. “Don’t like being threatened, do you?” he murmured as he stalked towards it. “Well, there’s an alternative for you. You can let us go and, in return, we’ll settle for putting you back in your nice little box and taking you ashore.”

The slow pulse of blue steadied, but shimmers of red continued to run across the silvery sheen of the black surface,

Dazed, Will struggled out of his fiery visions to focus on the older man. “I don’t think we should bargain with it....” he said uncomfortably. “What if it finds another ship?”

“What if it does?” Jack retaliated, staring down into the depths of the skull. He could see lights glowing deep within it, little fairy sparks of light and colour whirling round and round in a hypnotic dance. “It won’t be my ship. It won't be me....” he whispered as he followed the dancing lights spiralling round and round....

Coins, rolling and dancing, he could almost hear the chink of gold.....Promises, promises, so many of them broken....Why shouldn’t he have what he wanted for once? He was tired of thinking of others....Honour? What was it but a word? He’d lost any honour he had long ago....  “Why should I care? I'm a pirate....”

Turner gave him a shocked look. He knew Jack was a lot of things, but he had never thought him cruel or callous.... “You don’t mean that,” he protested.

Jack eyes glittered, reflecting the sparks of fire drawn from the skull. “Why don’t I?” he hissed. “What did they ever do for me except do their best to hang me? They branded me, flogged me.... A ship means freedom! And I won’t let anyone take that away from me.....”

Will argued desperately; “And would you be able to live with yourself if you let that thing take another ship in your place?”

Sparrow laughed in his face like a madman. “A damn sight better than if I drown now!” he cackled as he licked his lips and suddenly snatched up the skull, cradling it to him with a  lover’s touch, his fingers smoothing over the sleek crystal. “Mine....” he murmured as his mind danced with visions of gold and gems, of beautiful women clad in silks and satins, of men who bowed politely to the famous Jack Sparrow....

Will jerked back in alarm as the skull blazed blue black, the blue eyes glittering balefully as the shock of weird light turned Sparrow into a black silhouette among the shadows.

That’s what it wanted, a way in.... Will thought in horror as he saw Jack’s face turn into a mask of sin....Oh, Jack what has it promised you, what has it done to you....

“Blood,” Jack whispered, his voice cracking as his dark eyes rolled towards Turner.

Coins chinked and rattled in his mind, dripping blood, dribbling it across his hands....The skull knew, it remembered his memories. Knew Will had once been the sacrifice....It wanted that, wanted blood, wanted Will.....Wanted Jack to kill him....

“Will....no....I won’t....”

“Let him go!” Without thinking, Turner lifted his sword and lunged, not at his friend, but at the skull; hammering the blade down furiously across the smooth rounded top to smash it out of the pirate’s hands....

The skull hit the decking with thud like a landing cannonball...

Jack screamed and fell with it, crashing to the deck on his knees as he clutched his head in both hands.....

“Make it stop!” he howled as Will fell beside him and grabbed his wrists, shaking him.

“Jack, it’s all right! Listen to me....”

Jack shook his head violently and shoved him away, hearing the skull screaming in his head. It wanted blood, wanted a sacrifice, wanted Will’s life....

He reached for it, snatched it up in hands that dripped with the blood it hungered for...Wanted his hands around Will’s throat...

“Jack! No! Let it go!” Turner grabbed at him, clawed at him and Sparrow elbowed him expertly in the face, knocking him sprawling as the pirate blundered to his feet and lurched for the door, hugging the skull to him as he staggered out onto the deck into the fog....

                                                            * * *

Stumbling dizzily out onto the deck, Will peered uncertainly around him as he dabbed at his bloody lip. The fog had grown thicker and the faces had moved closer, leering at him, inspecting him with blank filmy eyes. Here and there amongst the tendrils he glimpsed opening mouths, long fangs that glinted with spikes of ice and snapped at him....

Taking a firmer grip on his sword, Will took a cautious step forward, waving a hand as if he could chase away the fog that clung with damp tenaciousness to his face.

“Jack?” he called tentatively, then scowled at his own voice and called again, louder and firmer. “Jack! Captain Sparrow! Where are you?”

There was no answer, but his own voice echoing uncannily back to him and a susurration of whispers ruffling through the fog.

Was that the mist muffled thump of a footstep? Running feet....?

“Jack, answer me!”

Huddled in the shadows of the hatch, Jack ducked and shuddered at the sound of Will’s voice and hugged the skull closer. He could hear it whispering to him, crooning blandishments, promises of wealth and wine and women....Promising power, promising anything and everything he wanted if he would only feed it, give it back that sweet taste hat bring it back to power...

All it wanted was blood, lots and lots of blood to feed its ripening hunger....So little to ask for....

Once it had been prized....

Once it had been fed.

Once blood smothered hands had caressed it, let it drink its greedy fill....

Once it had been feared....

Jack feared it. He feared the images he sensed flickering at the edges of his mind, the dance of madness that would lure him across the edge into madness.

But that fear wasn't enough for it. It wanted more to sate it. Wanted the fear that came with blood....

He could sense what it wanted, death and more death. Its blood lust was a black and crimson weight pressing on him as it sought to find his weaknesses, sought out his secrets....

Barbossa....What it could have done if Barbossa had known what it was, had touched it with living hands.... That was there in the flickering images. It had known Barbossa, had understood him and had ultimately rejected him. Barbossa was already seeped in sin, in a curse the skull could not, dared not break. There had been no blood to feed it from Barbossa’s crew. But there was now. New fresh blood, innocent blood, Will’s blood....

“Noooo.....” Jack moaned in pain, striving to push the skull away from him, If he could put it down.....

He had not the strength. His aching arms lowered it until it rested on his upraised knees, its baleful stare locked on his.....

Exhaustion overwhelmed him, crushing him with the weight of despair until his head bowed before the skull, his forehead resting against the ice cold black diamond....

All he could see where the shimmering blue orbs of its eyes, reflecting him in a dark mirror, a mirror of his own shadowed soul....

Secrets, secrets....Jack had so many, even from himself. The skull knew that and sought them out, sought the way in that would give it Will Turner’s blood at his hands....

The Black Pearl, his pride, his joy....Barbossa had taken her and he had taken her back again.

For her he had killed Barbossa

For the Black Pearl he would have sacrificed Will, his life, his soul, his blood....

For her he would kill him....

                                                            * * *

Will whirled in shock, feeling a cold hand on his shoulder, wet damp fingers of ice sinking through his shirt. A face of fog stared at him, beneath a thin neck, scrawny shoulders....

He swiped at it with the sword and the blade cut through the slowly congealing ectoplasm of its body. It gibbered at him silently, clawing at him with bony fingers....

Another loomed up out of the fog, creeping towards him. And beyond it he could see more of them, fumbling their way slowly over the rails as they crawled up out of the sea, slithering towards him in mindless hunger....

Above him something moaned and he looked up instinctively, then flinched back as he saw more of the ghostly grey creatures slithering, swarming down the rigging as they manifested out of the fog, their dankly dripping shapes closing in on him, disappearing in and out of the eddying mists until he could hardly be sure where they were...

“Get away from me!” Will was no coward. He had faced Barbossa and his crew without flinching but this creeping approach unnerved him.

A slender hand slipped out of the fog, long bony fingers brushing his cheek in a parody of a caress as a face bloated from long immersion in sea water appeared above it. Long straggles of hair streaming with water blowing around it, strands of seaweed like parodies of ribbons waving around it....

“Pretty.....” It hissed and its mouth was filled shark like teeth, too many for its size so that the lips peeled back, splitting the face wide.....

“Give us your blood, pretty, feed us....” Something gurgled behind him, coaxing him as wet slimy hands slithered through his hair....

Will scrambled backwards, feeling terror closing in on him as the long drowned and cursed encircled him....

Gritting his teeth, he swung around him, slicing off a hand here, letting the blade cleave through an arm, a rubbery monstrosity of a leg ....

They screamed and babbled and gibbered, but where a limb fell to the deck it dissolved and a new one grew in its place, blossoming from the stumps like obscene fruit....

And above him they swarmed, from rail and sea and rigging they gathered, closing in relentlessly.....

                                                            * * *

Jack lifted his head as he heard Will cry out, heard the thin edge of fear beneath the anger.

Blood, whispered the skull in his thoughts. Feed me or they will satisfy their hunger with both of you....

He’s nothing to you.

“Bootstrap Bill’s son....” Jack croaked, striving to see through the fog that surrounded him.

It rippled and unfurled, peeling back in ugly greasy petals of mist to reveal Will surrounded by a seething, swarming horde of....things.... Not all were human, perhaps not all had ever been human an with their prey cornered, they were not so careful with their choice of forms. Impossible monsters out of nightmares stalked the blacksmith, things of suckers and tentacles, of snapping jaws and whipping tendrils....

One lashed around Will’s throat, yanked him backwards to the deck with a crash. Two creatures skittered forward, both were human like but skeletally thin with filmy grey eyes of fog and skin that rippled over its body like the waves of some unclean sea....

Between them they seized the blacksmith, bent him backwards to expose his throat to greedy jaws.

Will twisted and bucked, fighting with all his strength to break free....

Him or you....whispered the skull. Kill him for me, bleed him for me....You killed Barbossa so you could have the ship. Kill this one for her now....

Jack staggered to his feet like a sleepwalker, tottering towards the blacksmith.

Held fast in the grip of the monsters spewed forth by the fog, their hands in his hair holding his head right back until he feared his neck would snap Will could do no more but watch the pirate come.

Standing over him, Jack stared unseeingly down into his golden brown eyes....

The skull pushed at him, clawed inside his mind, scrabbling for a hold...

Barbossa took your ship and you killed him for it. This one is the price for your freedom, for your ship, kill him now....

Dazedly, Jack shifted the weight of the skull, cradling it against his ribs as he drew his sword with his free hand.

He’s not my price, you are. What I am cannot be brought....Whispered another softer voice, a voice of wind and rigging and sea.... A voice he had known and trusted far longer than the evil corrupting his thoughts now....

“Jack, don’t.....” Will gasped pleadingly, his protest choked off with a mewing sound as his captor twisted his arm with savage glee until he felt it grate in its socket. He held very still, holding his breath as Jack’s sword lightly kissed his bare throat.

He’s nothing to you, whispered the skull and Jack grinned his wicked grin.

“Jack.....” Will moaned as Sparrow drew back the blade to swing.

“The opportune moment, lad,” said Jack and swung....

Will dropped back, letting his weight pull him from the startled grip of the creatures that held him and a second later two grinning head bounced on the deck beside him with ugly thuds. Their bodies followed them down, exploding into mist and water on the deck....

“Wrong secret, damn you.....” Jack hissed as he staggered towards the rail. “I killed Barbossa for Bootstrap Bill, for the sake of his son.....not the bloody ship....She was always mine...!” With a grimace of pain as the skull burned his hand, Jack yelped and dropped the skull, then kicked it towards the rail as angry foggy hands clawed at him, dragging him down kicking and struggling.

Will struggled to reach him, fighting his way through the seething mass of angry demons that poured towards them, each wanting their bite of flesh and blood...

Jack howled as teeth bit into his leg and drew blood, lashed out at the culprit and saw Will skewer it through the back of its bony neck as it lunged at his throat. A flex of the blade popped the head from its neck and sent it skittering across the deck to mash to bits against the rail....

The scream of the kraken shook the ship, made her shudder from stem to stern as it loomed up out of the fog, its huge eyes glowing like raging bonfires that lit the pallid fog with an evil glow....

From its presence the sea’s spawn shrank back, gibbering in fury as tentacles slashed out, groping for the two men amidst the mist of fog and ectoplasm....

Will screamed as a tentacle pinned him, razor toothed suckers wrapping around his upper arm...

With a snarl, Jack struggled up and decapitated it, practically falling into Turner’s arms as his leg, streaming blood, buckled under him...

The kraken screamed again, looming over them as barbed tips plunged towards them....

And the Black Pearl shuddered in the water and dipped in a non existent wind, and with a crunch of wood and sail, a spar crashed into the kraken, drove it back screaming in pain from its prey, spilled its blood in a foaming gout as one fearsome eye exploded that splattered a jelly like substance across the decks that hissed and burned where it fell....

Jack gaped, staring up into the screaming maw above them, then suddenly shoved Will off as the blacksmith struggled to drag him towards the cover of the steps. He rolled, crawled, clawed his way across the deck to the skull where it had skittered with the movement of the ship and wedged precariously in the gap, saving itself from falling overboard.....

 “Jack! No! Leave it.....” Will screamed as Sparrow grabbed it up.

The skull flared, blazing blood red in rage, blistering Jack’s hands as he scooped it up....

And threw it, hurled it into the vast snapping beak of the kraken as it plunged down to snap him from the deck....

The kraken froze, its one remaining eye bulging as it, then something inside it seemed to implode the bulging octopus like bag of its body vibrating as a reddish light seemed to pour from its very pores then the tentacles convulsed, lashing at the water in a frenzy of pain....

Will landed on his knees beside Jack, one arm useless with pain as he grabbed at him. Jack slung an arm around his neck and pulled, yanking him down beside him, under him as the kraken screamed its agony, its writhing tentacles closing around the ship’s hull as timbers moaned and cracked...

And the ship exploded, engulfing Jack and Will in a tidal wave of water to drown them, to send them down to join the drowned sea spawn in the depths....

                                                            * * *

“Will, Will Turner. Wake up, blacksmith....”

Through the depths of the water that filled his mind and body, Will heard the call and struggled towards it, swimming upwards through the thick black weight that held him down.

“Wake up!” Anamaria commanded and her hand cracked across his face with all the strength of arm any blacksmith could have wished for.

Will woke up with a yelp and a curse and grabbed her wrist before she could hit him again. No wonder Jack flinched when she raised her hand to him in threat.  “What? Who?....Where?” Dazed and bewildered, Will stared around him at a blazing bright blue sky, the sapphire clear depths of a fine white crest topped ocean and a sweet breeze to fill the Black Pearl’s sails.

“I might ask you da same thing, blacksmith,” Anamaria commented as she sat back on her heels. “The storm stopped and we came up on deck to find you and the captain out cold....”

“The storm?” Will repeated dizzily. But that had been....when? It seemed like forever....

Shoving at the deck he managed to sit up and stare around him. The crew was busy, the ship obviously on her way and making good time.....

Anamaria was still talking, but he had no idea of what she had been saying. “I don’t know what happened,” she continued. “But the wind’s fresh and the curse seems to be broken....

“The box....”

“Still in the captain’s cabin. But it’s empty....” Anamaria eyed him suspiciously. “What did you do? Did you fight him for it? If you did.....” Her eyes hardened with savage intensity, reminding Jack that she was a pirate no matter how lovely and not someone he wanted to cross.

“No. Where is Jack?”

“Mr Gibbs took him below,” she answered, still wary.

“Didn't he argue?” Will wondered, feeling a bit put out that Jack had abandoned him.

“He was still out cold and bleeding a lot worse than you.”

“Bleeding?!”

Anamaria sniffed. “Mr Cotton’s parrot doesn't repeat itself as much as you do.”

“Take me to Jack.” Turner glared at her and dragged his feet under him, struggling to get up and weaving dizzily. Anamaria slipped under his arm.

“Mind, you could do with a bit of a clean up yourself,” she commented, eyeing his blood stained and torn shirt. Mindful of the throbbing soreness of his wrenched shoulder, Will agreed with her but he had something else on his mind; an acute need to see Jack Sparrow and find out if the Captain was free of the influence of the skull....

                                                            * * *

Jack was lying on his back in his bunk, somewhat dazedly watching the ceiling swirling over him and wondering which way up was up.

“How can that be a ceiling when it’s also a deck?” he wondered, waving a finger at it.

“Jack....” Will’s young face suddenly appeared over him and Jack blinked at it then grinned.

“Dear William!” he exclaimed in delight. “So you survived!” Lifting his head a little, he peered around the young blacksmith to scan the cabin. “Where’s Gibbs?”

“Went topside after patching you up. Said he couldn’t sit around mollycoddling you....”

“Ah....” Jack murmured thoughtfully and flexed his leg, gingerly bending his knee. It hurt, but not so bad. Gibbs had patched him up a time or two and knew what he was doing; ham-fisted though he was. He turned his gaze back to Turner, inspecting him thoughtfully and noting that he too had been poulticed and bandaged and carried his arm in a sling made from a red bandanna. “Ah, very piratical....”

“Yes, well....Jack! Do you remember what happened?”

“I shoved the skull down the kraken’s throat with the fervent desire that it’d choke on it; which it did....” Jack said cheerfully as he struggled to turn over and grope down the panelling of his bunk. Under his questing fingers, a small panel popped open and with a grin of triumph he fished out his spare rum flask. “Want a swig?”

Will started to shake his head, then changed his mind and took a quick mouthful of the fiery spirit before handing the flask back for the Captain to take a longer pull. “That’s what broke the curse?”

“Aye, that’s the way I see it,” Jack said smugly, cuddling the flask in sore fingers as he settled back against his pillows. The fine silver felt cool and soothing against his singed skin.

“It wanted you to kill me....” Will said slowly.

“Well, I didn’t. No skull’s going to tell Captain Jack Sparrow what to do...”

“It thought you killed Barbossa to get what you wanted....”

“Well and so I did. I wanted revenge....” Jack answered briskly, sliding a wary glance at him.

Will however gave him a serene smile. “But that wasn’t all, was it?”

“Well, that and my ship....” Jack prevaricated.

Will’s smile widened into a broad grin and he leaned forward, awkwardly patting Sparrow’s arm. “Of course you did,” he said smugly. “You couldn’t possibly have killed him to save me....”

“Course not,” Jack grumbled. “I'm a pirate. No gain in killing Barbossa to save you....”

“Or in giving up whatever the skull offered you to save me....”

“I didn't fancy the price,” Sparrow muttered. “Now, clear off and let me plot my revenge on Mad Mack for getting me into this mess in the first place.”

“You? What about the rest of us?” Will protested, but he sounded amused.

Jack glowered at him. “What about you? Why don’t you go and gloat with Anamaria about it? And sling that blasted box over the side while you’re at it. I certainly don't want to keep tea in it now...” Will chuckled and pushed to his feet, moving stiffly. Jack gave in and smirked at him, enjoying his smile. He felt he’d earned that pleasure after what they had been through and he was glad to see Will could still smile. “You can get Anamaria to give you a quick rub down while she’s at. That should take care of any stiffness you might have....and I'm sure you’d both enjoy it....”

Will blushed despite himself and glared at the Captain. “Sometimes, Jack....” he growled.

“Only sometimes?” Jack taunted.

Will however gave him a sweet smile instead of a sarcastic retort. “I'm reminded that under that not so tough exterior you’re not as bad as you want people to think you are...” he said over his shoulder as he ambled from the cabin, taking the empty tea caddy with him. “Or as bad as you think you are....”

Glaring after him, Jack resisted the urge to throw something at his back and took a swig from his flask instead. “Bloody blacksmith,” he grumbled. “Bloody conscience!” But then a slow reluctant grin spread over his face in acknowledgement that Master Will Turner knew Jack Sparrow a lot better than he had expected him to.....

                                                            oooOooo