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The Haunting Place	By : Lktwoozee Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 11161 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
See previous chapters for Disclaimers, Warnings, and Notes.

Chapter Seven: Day One
�Kristy lookie!� Maren
gibbered like a child to her mother, and in truth, this phantom whore was the
closest thing to a mother Maren had ever known, �I be getting� the hang o�
it.� Unsteadily, Maren wobbled about
her cabin, arms stretched out, mastering the art of sea legs. A couple of sturdy currents had toppled her
earlier, but her confidence was surely growing.
The Black Pearl�s
newest residential ghost was having problems with her own �sea legs�. Every lurch or shift of the ground sunk
Kristy�s wraith feet through the floor or hovering a few inches in the
air. Floating wasn�t as uncomfortable
as sinking, the coagulating chill of a solid object was, though tolerable,
peculiar and disconcerting.
Consequently, Kristy was constantly readjusting her transparent form to
stand upon the floor properly. She was
also progressing, subconsciously predicting the fluctuations of movement and
altering accordingly.
The
guest quarters Maren had bartered for were phenomenal, beyond expectation,
especially aboard a pirate ship. It was
a little cramped, but then, so was her flat back in Tortuga. All the furniture was crafted from a deep
red wood, the specific tree Maren didn�t know, not having a lot of experience
with the finer things in life. The
linens were cotton, soft and crisp. But
the superlative attraction was an elegant vanity, the mirror round in shape and
large in diameter. If Maren stood far
enough across the room, she could see her entire reflection and for a woman
who�s has only possessed a tiny hand mirror at most, the full-length image of
her self seemed a luxuriant necessity she never knew she required. Well, thing certainly could be worse, it was
a comfortable prison at least.

* * * * *
Briefly, after her
tantrum leaving the brig, Maren had managed to navigate herself back to the top
deck. Several pirates at work paused to
stare at her curiously, but she dismissed them, after all, hadn�t Jack ordered
no one was to lay a hand on her? Why
should they intimidate her, when she had Cap�n Sparrow�s endorsement and
protection? This gave her a moment�s
hesitation, �protection� she mulled over.
Yes, the dread pirate captain had thus far kept his word, Maren was unharmed
and apparently Jack intended her to remain that way. A pang of sentiment began to stir for Jack.
Maren wasn�t na�ve by
any stretch of the word. She heard the
horror stories many times about pirates and their infamous cruelty. Nevertheless, last night had been her first
night held captive on a pirate ship and she was amazed that she wasn�t raped,
murdered, and floating in the waves somewhere.
Perhaps this was a gross exaggeration from greedy merchants embittered
by too many plundered expeditions? Maren
doubted it. Those terrible accounts
were as honest as a priest on his deathbed, Maren knew. But not necessarily true for Jack or the
Black Pearl. They were different,
singularly original. Though it
begrudged her to admit it, even to herself, Maren was safe here.
�Yet,� the pessimist
in her griped, �Be his fault I�m in this predicament to begin with! Why should I be grateful for a
kidnappin�? Even a secure one?�
��Cause this be
no kidnappin� anymore,� Krisy hovered adjacent
to Maren, both hypnotized, peering out at the blue horizon. �It be opportunity knockin� at yer
door, treasure for the claimin�, opulence to be lavished, and besides�I bet
Jack�s hung like a horse, oh please, please, go check!� eager jumps punctuated each of her begging words. �If ye ask him, he be droppin� them
trousers before ye can even say �give us a peek�!�
�Yer positively
lecherous, ye know that?� Maren leaned against the railing, marveling at the
sheer drop to the surface of the ocean.
�Suit yerself
then, I�ll just mosey �long to the captain�s cabin �round dressin� time sans
ye.�
�Must ye spy on
persons in the buff?�
�What the
bleedin� else am I goin� to do? I�m
dead! It�s a littl� late to be startin�
me memoirs!�
�Miss Attle!� the
first mate, Mister Gibbs, was jogging across deck, red-faced �Miss Attle, Cap�n
says I�m to escort ye to yer new quarters pronto, �fore he throws ye
overboard!�
�Well the Cap�n,� she
struggled with her attitude, reciting the requirements of her freedom, �no
sassin� Jack in front o� the men,� to herself, �be fortunate that I�m in the
mood to retire to me cabin o� I�d have takin� him to the waters with me.� There, that wasn�t that bad. Neck arched like nobility, Maren strode next
to Gibbs, keeping in step with him.
�Ye tethered him up in
a fix,� Gibbs said conversationally, �What�d do to stoke his fires?�
�More like what
she did�n stoke, Mister Gibbs.�
�I be completely
innocent o� whatever he accus�d me o�,� Maren clasped her hands, resting upon
her belly like a humble nun.
Grinning to himself,
Gibbs guided Maren below one flight of stairs and down a low and narrow hallway
well lit by lamps. �Right here�s for
honored guests only,� Gibbs chivalrously presented a thick, heavy door. �Ye know lass,� prior to opening the door,
Gibbs peered carefully at Maren, �not just anybody gets to be residin� in this
room. No, ye gots to be prestigious and
valuable and to top it off, Jack has to like ye, I mean really like ye.
Needless to say, Jack�s pretty damn particular on who he likes and who
he does�n. Deem yerself fortunate, he
likes ye.�
�Why Mister Gibbs,�
Maren squeezed his arm childishly, �I think ye be lookin� out for me.�
�Deem yerself
fortunate, I likes ye too,� chuckling, he swung the door open and as it
creaked, he entered the cabin and set upon the windows. While Maren marveled at the room, Gibbs
fumbled with the boarded shutters, wrenching them open with a satisfying thwack. The
blinding sunlight caressed the red wood surfaces and cotton linens.
�How lovely,� dazed,
Maren smiled.
�Well gel,� Gibbs
wiped sweat off his brow and onto his sleeve, �Must be leavin�, but I�ll sends
someone �round to give ye the grand tour soon �nough.� As a second thought, Gibbs furthered,
�Please stay here, there�s a whole heap o� trouble to be had.�
�Hurricane�s couldn�t
move me,� she saluted. Thus assured,
Gibbs disappeared down the hall, �Wait Mister Gibbs!� and reappeared. �I just�thank ye for bein� such a gentleman,
well�such a gentleman under these circumstances. And I be sorry �bout-,� loosely she gestured to her cheek where
her spit had hit Gibbs last night.
Slightly vindicated,
the old pirate scratched his head ineptly, �Not a second thought on the subject
Miss Attle, was the sweetest spit that�s ever made contact with this old
mug.� Embarrassed by her compliments,
Gibbs hurriedly exited.
�Please call me
Maren,� her voice rang after him.
�Aye Maren,� he
hollered back, already a good deal away.
The next hour
consisted of the pleasant task of familiarizing herself with her new quarters. This included searching every drawer
thoroughly, discovering items then putting them to use, the brushes and toilet
water were fun, and the grand finale, properly appreciating the feather
mattress by sprinting up to the bed and flying, head first, into the downy
softness, which Kristy had the nerve to call �juvenile foolishness�. Around the fifth time Maren experimented
with this last errand, she clumsily tripped and almost broke her skull. Perhaps, it was a tad immature, she agreed,
now with a headache.
It was the cabin boy,
Nathan, who fetched her to tour. After
an initial period of blushing, stuttering, and boyhood humiliation, Nathan
finally relaxed enough to at least become audible. Turned out, Nathan was a very bright and informative lad, past all
those hormones. He boasted that only
Cap�n Sparrow knew more about the Black Pearl then he did.
�How did ye come to be
sailin� �board the Pearl, Nathan?� they were in the ship�s galley. Nathan had offered her food, but she
accepted tea instead, her stomach still not entirely comfy with the rise and
fall of the sea. She perched
contentedly, sipping her tea.
�Me momma and me came
from Ireland to Massachusetts as indentured servants to our landlord. After me mum died, I tried to weasel out o�
the contract and when that did�n work, I just ran away. Did�n get far, constable caught me and drug
me back. That�s when I first met Cap�n
Sparrow. He was in Boston hirin� these
�modern� carpenters for renovations to the Pearl, had the nerve to call
themselves architects likes they were bulidin� castles o� somethin�! Anyway, me and the constable happen pass
Jack just when I was callin� him a-,� suddenly he slapped his hand over his
mouth, horrified.
�Go �head, Nathan, I
be a barmaid. Ye ca�n say anythin� to me
that I have�n seen tattooed on some bloke�s arm!�
Nathan�s face appeared
so purple he might have been holding his breath, �Call�d him a rotten
cocksucker, Miss Attle, and said his sister was better at it, maybe she should
be givin� some advice,� bashfully he kept his eyes on the floor.
�Boy after me
own heart,� Kristy said proudly. The ghost was entertaining herself chasing
rats about. Animals intuitively sense
the dead and are always frightened into frenzy by their presence.
�So the constable
licks me good, right on the back of me head, almost knock�d me silly,� Nathan
continued, �Then all o� a sudden, the constable�s out cold and there�s Cap�n
Sparrow lowerin� his fist, grinnin� real friendly-like.�
�One punch?�
impressed, Maren covered her admiration for Jack�s brawling in her cup.
�Just the one! He asks me, he says �Ye already talks like a
pirate, but can ye be one?�,� he swayed and danced his hands about, a perfect
imitation of Jack, �Said �Aye sir!� and
one year later here I am!�
Nathan introduced her
to several of the more sociable crewmembers.
Curiously, a mute man named Cotton had, of all things, a parrot to speak
for him. Maren gushed girlish ah�s and
ooh�s as she cradled the green bird in her hand. It was adorably nibbling her braid and spreading its bright
feather to impress her, then Kristy whistled tauntingly. It wasn�t that the dead woman didn�t enjoy
animals, she just enjoyed scaring them a lot more. Surprisingly, Mister Cotton�s parrot only squawked incensed,
�Three pence a blow, five pence a go!
Three pence a blow, five pence a go, sailor boys!�
�Thems were me
rates!�
Kristy was astonished, �How�d a litt� wing�d pecker discern that?� Stifled
snorts from Maren caused Kristy to explain defensively, �Course inflation wasn�t what it be today,
them prices were quite expensive for a workin� wench from the block, I�ll have
ye know Miss Wisearse!�
She also met a midget
who once bit the heads off chickens in a freak show, Maren never knew a midget
personally, a man who converted to Buddhism while in a Siamese prison, she
never knew a Buddhist either, and a strapping lad of about twenty years who
inquired if Maren had a corset that would fit him, and�well living among
sailors Maren knew many men who fell
under this last category.
Finally, Nathan�s
outing brought Maren to the armaments and to the lady pirate, methodically
measuring small piles of gunpowder on a monstrous crate. Maren had been anticipating this encounter,
wishing for some female company on their journey, some living female company that is.
�Anamaria,� apparently
Nathan had no qualms about communicating with this woman, �This here is Miss
Maren Attle,� offering a handshake, Maren smiled, �Miss Attle�Anamaria.�
�To the devil with ye,
ye stupid whelp!� the shriek was furious and Anamaria appeared tenfold more
livid, �Do�n be givin� me name to no witch, ye damned fool!� Nathan and Maren leapt backwards, escaping
the erupting volcano of paroxysm. �God
knows all the hexes she can be spellin� on me now!� her physical stature was
lofty and lean muscles, still womanly in placement, rippled under her
clothes. Maren teethed herself on
street brawls with other waifs as a child and could take a punch from any
manner of gypsy, streetwalker, or mugger, nonetheless, she was all too aware a
physical altercation with Anamaria would result in one big painful defeat. The only sanctuary she hoped she had was
Jack�s orders to keep hands off of her.
Certainly that would apply to all
the pirates, including the one female?
�Back to hell with ye,
I�ll not be toleratin� no voodoo �board this ship!� Anamaria tore a
predominantly smelly charm from around her neck, kissed it before ripping the
woven material away, and sprinkling the pungent herbs and black soil it
contained on the wooden floor. A cube
of salt was yanked from her pocket and resolutely licked, then Anamarie spit
three times upon the litter pile on the ground. Muttering something in Haitian French, she crossed herself,
�Break that charm ye necromancer! I no
scar�d o� ye!�
�Anamaria!� Mister
Gibbs emerged from the doorway, to Maren, a gallant hero, �Cap�n said no more
o� yer nonsense!� Stubbornly she
crossed her arms and clenched her jaw, but no argument was forthcoming, Kristy
suspected Anamaria was about to burst from the pressure of restraint. �Report to the galley, they always be
needin� an extra pair o� hands.�
�But I�m not finished
with the powder yet and galley work�s for the cabin boy,� she grunted towards
Nathan who snorted back.
�Wrong! Galley work be for any pirate that do�n obey
commands and ye can come back and finish the powder after supper on yer own
time! Now get, wo�n be tellin� ye
twice!�
She stomped out,
keeping a clear distance from Maren. At
the door, she abruptly turned about and scathingly added, �Just to be quotin�
the Cap�n directly, I believe he said, �No more o� our nonsense,� Mister Gibbs. By the way, that be a mighty fine garlic cologne yer wearin�!� As her footsteps faded her words didn�t. There was a definite underlying odor of
garlic wafting around Gibbs.
Gibbs grinned
nervously, while he removed the charm from under his shirt ashamed. �It�s not ye, Maren,� he clarified, �it�s
them spooks.�
Kristy flared her
nostrils, �Garlic never ward�d me away from nothin�, just makes me
hungry somethin� awful�Jesus, I�d sod Lucifer hiself for a bite to eat!� she included.
Staying silent,
Maren�s blue eyes were downcast and guarded.
She should have expected this to happen, it always happened. The first mate sighed regretfully, �I�m
sorry, I be a daft old sailor givin� into superstition�forgive me sweetheart?�
�Oh all right ye daft
old sailor,� Maren grudgingly shrugged the matter off, �as long as ye be
keepin� that Anamaria from pummelin� me and that garlic in yer shirt,
everythin�s even �tween us.�
�Lovely! And do�n ye fret none over the likes o�
Anamaria, she�s a softie once ye be familiar with her,� Gibbs assured.
�Aye and I be
the Virgin Mary,� the phantom gestured
suggestively, jerking her fist up and down.
Maren swallowed her
giggles, �Gentlemen, if ye will excuse me, I wish to rest for a spell-,�
hastily she re-worded her statement, still sore from the witch reference,
�-bit, rest for a bit, �fore dinner.
Nathan, thank ye for the company and the tour, �twas enlightening. Mister Gibbs, thank ye for rallyin� to me
rescue.�
�Anytime
me dear,� Gibbs waved as Maren left, then habitually rapped Nathan atop the
head because he was stuck in fits of stuttering and blushes.

* * * * *
Maren was indeed
refreshed after a two-hour nap, an extravagance she hadn�t afforded herself in
a long time. So, here she was,
imprisoned in luxury, held captive aboard the legendary Black Pearl, craved by
a lustful, and still very handsome, pirate captain, and finally controlling her
sea legs.
�Kristy?� she spoke
dreamily aloud, �I do�n be hatin� me life anymore.�
An impatient knock
startled both living and deceased women.
�Comin�!� annoyed at the interruption to her epiphany of contentment,
Maren heaved the door open.
Anamaria loomed in the
hall, a massive, ornate chest in her arms, �Cap�n says yer to have this plunder
we lift�d from a merchant ship,� she tossed the trunk at Maren�s feet. �And as punishment for disobeyin� his
orders, I�m to apologize�but I wo�n be meanin� it, just gots to say it,� she
pointed her index finger under Maren�s chin.
�All right,�
tentatively, Maren leaned away.
�I apologize,� she
testified gruffly, then spun on her heels and trumped down the hallway.
�What�a�bitch!� Kristy proclaimed as if she was orchestrating a
choir and a forethought, �A good lay would fix her right up.�
�A good lay is your
answer to everything,� distracted, Maren hauled the trunk inside the room and
shut the door. �What ye �spects it is?�
�Ooh
presents! Open it!� gleefully Kristy squeaked.
Fiddling with the latch,
it eventually popped open and Maren peered skeptically inside. Dresses, a chest full of shimmering cloth
and fluff, wonderful in Maren�s eyes.
�Bury me alive!� she dug greedily through the garments, mouth watering
in delight.
Kristy knelt beside
her, clapping in excitement, �Try them on!�
Spurred by adrenaline,
Maren shed her dress like the dull, brown rags they were. Clad in her shift, petticoats, bloomers and
corset, she riffled through velvets and satins and cottons galore, through reds
and blues and greens as radiant as any rainbow, but a crisis was
formulating. The women for whom this
clothing was intended, were lean and lanky, bony and angled, in conclusion, not
Maren. Her heart was plummeting,
perhaps Jack was tormenting her with these twig dresses. Maybe he was insinuating she was fat! Maren�s sensitivity bristled.
Behold, salvation was
delivered at the very bottom of the trunk.
A shining satin dress colored light olive and hemmed with cr�me lace
held potential. Its dominant asset for
Maren, the cut of the sleeves ended off the shoulders, so the larger aspects of
her upper torso could feasibly cram inside.
The waist was a tight squeeze though, but still achievable. Two inches of fabric dragged lazily upon the
floor, her height inadequate, but there was simply no alternative.
After fifteen minutes
of lacing and hooking, Maren jolted to the mirror atop the vanity. Her reflection was like a lightening strike,
her breath caught in her throat and her stomach flip-flopped. She�d never worn satin before, had never
even touched it, but now anyone could see it was a match made in heaven. Posing Maren scrutinized herself in the
mirror. �Ye do�n think me breasts look
like arse cheeks shoved down me bodice?� she asked Kristy doubtfully.
�No Pet, that
be the fashion, its suppos�d to look like that, men love it!�
�Ye do�n think it
shows too much skin?� motioning to the bare shoulders and spilling cleavage,
Maren�s blush crept up again.
�No such thin�,
luv!� Kristy proclaimed fervently.
Maren continued to
stare at her reflection and then she started to wonder�
�Oh Merciful Lord!�
she shouted, covering her face in her hands, �I�m a bleedin� dunce!�
�Are ye out o�
yer mind? What ye pissin� on �bout now?� Kristy returned the bellowing.
�I was almost takin�
in, that�s what!� pacing about, Maren raised her skirts to better stomp her
feet, �Is�n it obvious, Kristy?
Butterin� me up like some copper tart!
This story�s older than Adam�s first stiffer, villainous knave bestowin�
rich delicacies upon virtuous dewy-eyed heroine, seducin� and decievin� her,
just usin� her! Well sod off
that!� Maren yelled aloud, �Do ye hear
me ye cocky bastard? Sod OFF!!�
Another knock, �Miss
Attle?� a shaky Nathan inquired in trepidation.
�Um�aye Nathan?� Maren
slapped her forehead, mortified.
�I�m
to fetch ye to dinner with Cap�n Sparrow,� he said.

* * * * *
�Thought the
whelp would blow his load just from the lookin� at ye,� Kristy followed his speedy decent below deck with amused eyes.
�Ye disgustin�,� Maren
implied distantly, her thoughts racing as she tapped the door before her.
�Enter!� Jack called
from the other side.
�Grant me patience,�
praying, Maren twisted the knob and entered the point of no return.
He was bent, engrossed
over a mammoth map that lapped over the sides of his worktable. His intricate beads and hair fell forward,
masking his face. The arc of his back
reminded Maren of a cat exhibiting a stretch flauntingly. His trademark hat and jacket were missing,
just Jack in gray trousers, black boots, white shirt, dark vest, and the
dramatic red sash and bandana.
The captain�s cabin
was spacious and well furnished.
Lengthy desks lined the walls, brimming with small navigational
contraptions and tombs of maps. Several
cabinets and trunks were bound with chain and heavy locks, their security
unquestionable. A large bed crowded in
the corner, Maren averted her eyes, even the bed was yearning to tempt
her. Dinner was waiting on one end of a
massive bolted dining table; at the other end, were a moderate pile of gold
doubloons, a record book, and a set of scales.
Nervously, Maren closed
the door behind her. The metallic click
made Jack glance up at her. The smirk
couldn�t have been anymore palpable if he had written it out upon his face. His vision danced along the bare neck and
shoulders, smoldering on those globes of enticement. �Maren,� grandly he approached, arms stretched out in worship,
�Ye have stolen me very heart,� he clutched theatrically at his chest.
�Pity yer not dead yet,�
Maren spat.
Jack stared
impassively at her a moment, �I swear Satan hiself would run away pissin� from
that viper mouth o� yers.�
�Then why are ye still
here?�
�Ouch! I thought we be gettin� �long, ye and me.�
�Ye thought wrong!�
�Did I?�
�Aye!�
�Well now ye broken me heart!�
�Good!�
�Happy?�
�Very!�
�Would ye care for some
supper?�
�Please!�
Both walked to the dining
table, actually, Maren marched and Jack swaggered. Genteelly, he submitted a chair for Maren and licked his lips as
she sat herself, gazing directly down a cavern of breast. This time, Kristy didn�t mention Jack�s
leering. He stalled briefly,
considering, �Brush me up on me ghost etiquette luv, will Kristy be requirin� a
seat?�
Surprised, Maren and
Kristy exchanged blank glances. Nobody
who ever knew of Kristy ever truly thought of Kristy, even Maren�s father was
inclined to ignore her invisible presence.
�Well, she do�n strictly be requirin� anything�,� Maren stepped
carefully, �But she does prefer her own chair.
Says sittin� be a habit, hard to brake.�
Jack nodded and
proffered the seat to the air as if this was a perfectly natural
occurrence. �How noble!� sarcastic, negative, streetwise Kristy blubbered
like a love struck puppy, �Tell him I�d gladly ride him wild all night
if I could!�
�Kristy says thanks,�
watching Jack take his seat at the head of the table, that silly grin lighting
his features, Maren realized how little she understood about this man. Every meaningless gesture he made, every quipped
response, was coolly calculating. The
more she witnessed Jack�s antics, the cleverer he became. She had the brooding suspicion she was
playing a game with Jack and Jack had made the rules, �that was insightful of
you, to remember Kristy.�
�Just strivin� to be
an acceptable host is all,� Jack reached for a bottle, already uncorked and
partially consumed, �Wine?�
�Aye, thank ye,� Maren
injected, �and for heaven�s sake do�n offer any to Kristy. Not eatin� and drinkin� sort o� a sore spot
to her,� she shrugged nonchalantly, returning Jack�s smile when he poured her a
hefty glass of wine.
�Rub it in, why
do�n ye?� Kristy
moped while the living showoffs served themselves their meal.
They ate in silence,
Jack often studying her, that charming smirk killing any rude retorts upon her
nimble tongue. It could not be
remedied, those kohl-lined eyes, pools of endearing brown, they pinned her
resistance like a fox toying with a rabbit.
For all her stubbornness, Maren discovered she was powerless to control
the fluttering of her heart and tightening of her stomach in Jack�s fiery
company. Her breaths echoed in her
shallow lungs, that persistent flush barely held back. Where the hell was her backbone?
Finished, Jack
purposefully set his utensils and plate aside, basking in his chair, hands
clasped idly on his stomach, �How �bouts some story time?�
�If the hero�s Cap�n
Romulus and ye be havin� somethin� more to drink, ye got yerself an audience,�
Maren displayed the wine bottle and rotated it upside down, not a drop to drip.
Jack shuddered at the
empty bottle; if the world were a paradise, bottles would never be empty. �Do�n panic!� he displayed his palms to the
Maren, splaying the fingers, as if she was hysterical when really it was his
voice that was rising in anxiety. �There
be plenty more, no worries.� That
intoxicating prancing carried him to a chiefly protected chest, secured with
dozens of latches connected to about three different locks. �Here we go,� mumbling to himself, Jack
caressed the thick wooded side farthest from Maren, feeling and
concentrating. Seemingly satisfied,
Jack thudded his fist precisely on a fixed spot upon the trunk.
Tick every latch popped open at once. Jack sighed as he dreamily searched through
the chest. Two items were removed and
Jack slammed the lid shut, all the latches bolting again. �Catastrophe averted by one Cap�n Jack
Sparrow,� cheerily, he presented a brandy bottle to Maren, �Aged thirty year me
dear, this goes down smoother than any whore-,� his mouth clamped shut, then
peered self-consciously at the outwardly empty chair, �No offense luv.�
�None taken
Cap�n Sparrow,� Kristy fluffed her phantom
hair, shyly.
�No worries,�
translating, Maren pointed impatiently to the hand still behind Jack�s back,
�What ye up to?�
�Why Maren, I not be
up to anything,� while is voice was smoothed by innocence, the ruffian was
betrayed by his demon smile as he leapt down to one knee as if proposing
marriage, �Only decadence, debauchery, and depravity.� Each sinful word he uttered was sensual and
inviting, then he procured an ordinary ribbon box. The lid was lifted and disregarded to the floor. Maren gradually glanced into the box-
�Chocolates!!� she
cried, eyes ten times more lustful than any bawdy stare Jack ever procured.
�I�m in hell,� moaned Kristy, �This is hell!�
�Aye plenty o�
chocolates for me litt� medium!� pleased, Jack picked a sweet from the box and,
begging for luck, offered it to Maren�s plump lips now quivering in craving.
Perhaps if Jack hadn�t
acted like it was so deceptively natural, maybe if Maren wasn�t so hypnotized
by the sight of her rare and favorite sweet, and perhaps if God in Heaven
hadn�t created chocolate so cursedly divine then Maren wouldn�t have done what
she did.

Numb to all logical thought,
Maren�s mouth pounced on the chocolate.
Warm mauve lips wrapped around Jack�s fingertips, teeth sank into the
sweet corruption and lightly grazed against his flesh. To Maren, there was only the sugary rapture
on her taste buds, this honeyed taste of ecstasy. To Jack, there was only the wet warmth alluring his senses, this
sensual succubus now in reach. Her eyes
were closed in sheer bliss and Jack choked back a groan when Maren faintly
sucked the chocolate off his fingers, just a hinting tug. The alto rich moan that bloomed from her
throat vibrated onto his skin, her fist clenching as she was overwhelmed. Then it was all over, all too soon. �Mmmm, oooh�wow�God that be wonderful!� she
pulled away.
Her eyes flew open,
the veracity of her actions crashing upon her like ruthless waves. She glanced from Jack�s fingers now moist
from her own saliva to his face, passionately dark. Unwavering, they stared intensely at each other, the air between
them sparking like fireworks. Silence
stretched until�
�Let�s do that
again!!� Jack joyfully grabbed another chocolate.
�Oh, give me that!�
clawing at the box, Maren tore it from his grasp.
�Where�d ye
learn that move from?� proud, Kristy clapped
fondly.
While Maren greedily
shoved another sweet into her mouth, chewing in delight, Jack scooted closer to
her side, still kneeling on the floor, and whispered amusingly, �Was it good
for you?� Maren didn�t even acknowledge
him, only shoved his head away brusquely with one sidetracked hand, a woman
consumed with chocolates. Yet another
popped past her lips. Chuckling, Jack
rose and cracked the brandy open, fetching fresh tumblers, and pouring a
liberal amount of brandy into each.
Reclaiming his chair, Jack handed the glass to Maren.
�Fank ye,� she ground
out, mouth full of delicious stickiness.
Washing down the globs of chocolate with brandy that really was
remarkably smooth, Maren said, �I love
chocolate!�
�Suspect�d as much,�
Jack humored her.
�Reckon I�ve only had
it four, maybe five times in me life,� Maren counted on her fingers, �Too
expensive, even in the New World.�
Those blue eyes rolled, merrily inhaling more treats, �How�s �bout ye
start explainin� things?� Maren advised between chews.
Relaxing, Jack drank
from his brandy, that smirk peaking through before he began his narrative:
�Seventy-five years ago, when the New World
was still�ye know <i>new</i>,
a sailor for the, then, buddin� British Navy nam�d Captain James Reeve Romulus
went rogue. No one truly knows what
sent him off, just one day he snapp�d and ripp�d that pompous arse flag off his
mast, tore it to shreds, and flew a new flag, the symbol of his ship, the Alpha
upon it. Never been done �fore. Oh aye, there�s been piracy �round since the
beginnin� o� civilization, but ole Romulus, he invent�d modern piracy. Do�n
just steal�plunder, do�n just attack�pillage, do�n just breathe�live! No loyalty to country, only captain, no love
for land, only ocean, and no rules, only the Code!�
�What a man! There�ll never be his like again, that�s for
sure. Twenty-five years he was the
terror of the seas, one and only, Father of all Pirates. Also, and this do�n get �round much,
somewhat o� a scholar, revolutioniz�d some very ancient navigational techniques
and an amateur engineer too, always tryin� to carve the Alpha that much faster,
that much deadlier, that much more resilient.
The Alpha, she was <i>it</i>,
I mean the epitome of nautical technology at the time. Cap�n Rommie knew, ye aint nothin� without
your lady ship, dedicat�d his soul to her he did.�
�One day, Cap�n Romulus
smell�d a mutiny afoot, he was like that ye see, he just knew his men so well,
knew every-damn-littl�-thing that went on in their heads. There were twelve o� them bastards, so
Romulus had to do somethin� quick �fore twelve become twenty, and twenty �comes
thirty, etcetera. Mutiny be poisonous,
spreads as deadly as the plague. So
Rommie announces the relocation o� all his treasure, every last gem he ever
stole and this stalls the mutiny, they be wantin� the mass o� that
fortune. They travel �round the
Caribbean, pickin� his horde up from its hidden places like bread from a
bakery, bold as can be.�
�Arrives at a secret
place one day and the sly devil Cap�n, he picks those twelve traitors to come
ashore with him and secrete his plunder away.
Fools think they be in luck, opportune moment to murder their cap�n and
secure the treasure. Savvy? It be the greed that killed them! After they buried his loot, he slaughter�d
the lot of them! All he had was a
pistol, a sword, and a dagger. Pretty
impressive for a fifty year old man, eh?
Twelve against one! Mutinous
bastards��
�Anyway, poor
Romulus. The threat of mutiny had made
him sloppy o� unlucky, the Alpha was spott�d, Portuguese galley on
reconnaissance mission. Saw the Alpha
and went cryin� back to port. The
mutiny had lousy timin�, there was heavy conflict �tween Portugal and Spain,
brink o� war type shit. Thems were the
only two real superpowers in the Americas.
English ships were spit then and forget �bout them French. Well some official somewhere organizes this
peace meetin� for the two and o� course, both virtually bring their entire
navies to be influencin� the negotiations real peaceful-like. Suppose almost every ship in the New World
was in the gulf that day, whens this Portuguese boat comes screamin� in �The
Alpha! The Alpha!�. So while the Spanish loath�d the Portuguese
and the Portuguese despis�d the Spanish, were�n nothin� compar�d to how much
they hat�d Cap�n Romulus! The entire fleet fell upon the Alpha at bay,
it was a massacre.�
�What a horror that
must o� been. Hearin� them canons on
land, knowin� yer ships sufferin� in the sea.
Ye see, Romulus never made it back in time, he was forc�d to witness the
annihilation o� his Alpha from the beach, so bloody helpless. Chills me blood just thinkin� o� it. Now ye might be wonderin�, �Well so the
Alpha�s gone, there�s still a vast fortune buried behind him, right?� Aye he could�ve done that, take all that
gold and bribe hiself a new ship from a corrupt Spanish captain, Lord knows
there be plenty o� them. But it was�n
�bout that, never �bout the wealth o� the biggest boat o� the fame��twas �bout
the freedom luv, �twas �bout the Alpha.�
�When his ship was
lost from sight, swallow�d by the sea, Cap�n James Reeve Romulus took his
pistol and swallow�d a bullet, not a moment�s hesitation.�
Jack sighed
mournfully, �For fifty years Romulus� treasure be lost. The Spanish and the Portuguese looked for
it, aye, but Cap�n Romulus never hid a treasure people could find, what be the
point in that? A war brew�d not long
after, the records to the exact location o� the final restin� place o� the
Alpha was lost and there be thousands o� miles o� shoreline in the Americas to
search.� He interrupted himself with a
leisurely swig of brandy.
�What makes ye think
ye�ll find it?� Maren asked.
�Ye,� Jack said
plainly, almost adoringly.
�How?�
�There was one
survivor, one captive that liv�d to tell what happen�d �board the Alpha that
day. He was old Rommie�s confidant,
right hand lad sort o� speak,� something vastly different changed Jack�s eyes.
�The cabin boy?� she
felt a curious impulse to comfort Jack, but stayed her ground.
�Aye, took the lad
under his wing,� Jack said, oddly vague, �I found him forty years after the
sinkin� o� the Alpha, sav�d him from a heap o� trouble, he join�d me crew,
together we found that bay, and found Cap�n Romulus� grave. The natives buried him ye see�fear�d his
ghost.�
�That�s how ye know
his hauntin� place,� awed, Maren laid a gentle hand upon Jack�s jeweled one.
Jack laughed bitterly,
his mood was a mystery to Maren, �Did�n believe in curses then me dear, I was a
fool.�
�But now?�
�Now I know better,�
he smiled his inebriated grin at her and squeezed her hand, �The Spaniards
finally got the Portuguese out, only to have them replac�d by the Brits to the
North and the Frogs in the Gulf.
Course, we pirates only addin� to the fire. Recently, I sack�d a Spanish spreader from a fort very, very
close to Rommie�s grave. The fort be
call�d La Cabra Robada, so close to fame and fortune and they haven�t a
clue! Aboard this tiny spreader was a
written request to the ArchBishop in Granada for an exorcism, apparently,
several unfortunate accidents are befalling the soldiers there, unpleasant
dreams, rotten food, bad water, everything!
And several o� them Spaniards have seen an English bloke in old garbs,
pacin� back and forth on the beach.�
�It be the genuine
thing Maren,� Jack�s cheery demeanor returned full force, �There�s no other way
to explain it. Them sailors at the
fort, they have no idea that the body o� the legendary Cap�n Romulus is a piss
away! Why make somethin� like this up?�
�Makes sense to me,�
she agreed, becoming lovelier in Jack�s eyes by the minute.
�Me too,� Kristy who had been relatively quiet, since the
chocolate incident, piped in.
�That�s when I went
huntin� for ye luv,� winking, Jack raised his glass to her, �All I requir�d was
someone who could communicate with the Cap�n and I went to Tortuga �cause that
port has anythin� and everthin a pirate be needin�. I was right,� he gloated.
�Now for the matter o� payment-,� again, he wetted his lips with brandy,
keeping his scheming gaze on Maren, �Standard crewmember gets three percent o�
the end cut, cabin boy gets one and a half percent, Gibbs gets his six percent,
and me, my share be nine.�
�I want six.�
�Ye�ll get four.�
�Five, no less.�
�Four and I�ll buy ye
a hat, a really nice one.�
�Five and I wo�n be
kickin� ye in the sociables.�
�Deal.�
�Deal,� they shook
hands resolutely.
�And now, it pains
me to be bidden farewell, but a man needs his rest Miss Attle, lessen ye be
needin�,� instantly, Jack flew like his namesake out of his chair and onto his
spacious bed, propped up on one elbow, his hipped cocked to the side, raising
his eyebrows as he patted the space next to him, �some more intimate company
tonight.�
�By all that is
holy, do it! Do it!�
�Company yerself
Sparrow,� Maren bit hotly, �that�s why God gave ye hands!� She flourished her satin skirts while
heading towards the door.
�Wait Maren!� Jack
bounced up to her, she paused, hands on hips, �One goodnight kiss, please.�
�Ye mad?�
�The general consensus
would be �aye�,� Jack stretched his arms far apart, hands dangling, �Lookie
luv, I�m mindin� meself, I be behavin� so how �bout it, eh?�
He appeared so
adorable, Maren realized resistance was useless, he had charmed her a long time
ago. �Very well, but keep yer hands
where I can see them!� Exaggerating a
mimed stickup, Jack closed his eyes.
Meekly, Maren stepped closer, standing on tiptoe, progressively inching
her lips to his. She pecked quickly,
the brief contact still lighting a fire below her belly, before dashing out of
Jack�s eager reach. His hands were
notoriously quick, but Maren�s profession honed her to avoid unwelcome grabs,
slaps, and pinches. He barely missed
her retreating skirts as she scuttled to the doorway.
She stopped to accuse
over her shoulder as she threw open the door, �Ye said ye be behavin�!�
�Pirate,� he shrugged,
twiddling his fingers at her while she slammed the door, �Night Maren!�
Hustling below deck,
Maren retreated to the safety of her room, Kristy floating behind her. Her heart was pounding in her ears. It wasn�t that he tried to embrace her, hell
she knew he�d try something like that. It was that she kissed him anyway, knowing
full well his intention to seduce her.
And sweet Mary, he almost had!
The vision of him sprawled upon that bed, desire scenting him like a
perfume had tempted her, sorely tempted her.
She shivered, freeing herself
from the ill fitted dress and caringly folding it into the armoire. Corset was tossed unceremoniously on the
ground, petticoats followed. Crawling
into the feather bed, Maren wore only her shift and knickers, but even those
were chafing her heated skin.
�Well I�ll be
�bout. Goin� to go spy on them pirate
blokes tonight, seein� which one�s got a lover onboard,� Kristy licked her lips.
�Ye be the only woman
who ever exist�d that gets randy when two men be buggerin�,� not bothering to
raise her flushed face from the pillow, Maren shooed her away.
��Tis only
fair,� insisted Kristy, unabashed, �Men
be crazy for two ladies up on each other, but ye be a woman with a keen
interest in male homosexual activities and people call ye a pervert!�
�Goodnight Kristy.�
�Night Pet.�
Still drunk off of
Jack�s charisma, Maren dreamed�
She was in Jack�s
quarters again, only this time she climbed onto the bed next to Jack. Their lips and mouths clashed together, the
sounds of delicious kisses filled the air.
The taste of chocolate stained his lips and Maren hungrily lapped at
it. Mindlessly, she bucked her hips on
his thigh as it crept further and further between her legs. Tingling in her stomach made her moan�and
suddenly they were on a beach, the Alpha sinking in the distance, but it wasn�t
the Portuguese or the Spanish that sunk her.
The crew had run out of wine so they were sawing holes in her sides,
every last one committing suicide.
Sailing through the sands like water, the Black Pearl approached and Barbossa
jumped down to tip his hat congenially at Maren. She had to warn Jack, but no sound came as she tried to scream,
instead there was a whistle. Waving
merrily Jack motioned Barbossa over to play cards and they promptly ignored
her. The figurehead of the Black Pearl
ordered a bottle of rum and Helen yelled at her to fetch more whiskey from
downstairs. Across the ocean, Kristy
and Pa were approaching, walking on water.
Maren would have to remind them they blasphemed as she busied herself
with the drinks�.
�and just as quickly,
she was aboard a freighter headed from Saint Augustine. Something was different; everything was too
real. A movement caught her attention�a
monkey holding a gold coin�

Years of Cheers
Thanks a Lot,
Citadel
- 6
- 7
- 8
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The Haunting Place