Fan Fiction ❯ Pirates of the Caribbean: After the Curse...? ❯ one shot or series...? ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Pirates of the Caribbean: After the Curse?

By

Rosy the Cat

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is owned by Disney, who also claims
ownership to my older brother’s soul. Fancy that. I do not make any money
from this, although, if Disney likes this idea, I’m not objectionable
towards money for the plot . . . Though my soul is not for sale. Ever.

*************************

Ezekiel Barbossa, one-time captain of the pirate ship known as the Black
Pearl, quite literally, was burning in Hell. The lowest pit, in fact,
which was reserved for traitors and mutineers.

Fancy that. Cold-hearted S.O.B.s *did* have consciences (For you only
burned if, in your heart of hearts, didn’t believe you were deserving of
Paradise)!

He had lost all concept of time from the moment he had arrived. Demons
scourged his back, ate his fingers and toes, and ripped out his spleen.
And it never ended, because the missing bits always grew back.

He was startled, however, when the whipping stopped, the gnawing halted,
and the rending of flesh ceased. He looked around warily, blinking away
sweat and blood alike. What could keep Hellbeasts from their tasks?

"Well, don’t *you* look like a ray of sunshine! How are you, elder brother?"

Barbossa finally zeroed in on the source of the voice, and stared in shock.
"Katie . . . ?"

"That is, indeed, what our dearest departed mother, may she rest in peace, named
me, Ezekiel," drawled Katherine Barbossa, who looked about twenty-five years
of age and was clad in a simple white dress that seemed to have been formed by
wrapping several lengths of linen around her body. She was leaning casually
against a surprisingly-clean rock outcropping. What was particularly odd to her
brother was, he had buried his sister decades before his own death, when he
himself had been only thirty-two years old.

Blinking, he managed to stammer, in a manner he had thought long-since overcome,
"Ye look a good sight better than ye did when we buried you, lass. What brings ye
here?"

She smiled lightly and said, "I’ve spent the last few decades atoning for the
audacious," here she wrinkled her nose in distaste, "sin of bearing a child
outside of holy matrimony in Purgatory. Boring place, that, although some of
the philosopher-types were quite interesting to talk to. Now, however, I have
been judged worthy of entering Heaven, and I just wanted to see how you were
faring." She shook her head. "Really, Zeke, murder and mutiny? Bad form and
all that."

Barbossa finally managed to spit out a particularly-large-and-nasty wad of
bloody phlegm that had been bothering him for quite some time off to the
side, then snarked, "High and mighty stance for the family whore to take!"

He cringed, however, upon taking note of the murderous look on his sibling’s
face.

"Excuse me? *Who* kept bringing his grabby little mates with their manhandling
man hands to our mother’s home every time he was in port? *Who* introduced me
to the father of my one and only son? *WHO*, ye self-pretentious snot, encouraged
said friend of *thine* to run off to sea when you two learned of my pregnancy?
*WHO* abandoned my son’s father to the hangman’s noose to save thy *own* mangy
neck?!"

Ezekiel hissed, "Who told ye that?"

There was a dark, dangerous look to her eyes. "Who do ye *think*, *elder*
*brother*?" she said quietly, putting a definite mocking emphasis on the title.

"And what ye tried to do to Bill Turner’s lad! And that young lass of his! You
are lucky Bill ‘tisn’t here, or he’d wallop you a good ‘un!"

Barbossa frowned, confused. "What do ye mean, Katie? The curse is undone, and
I sent Bootstrap to Davey Jones’ Locker! He’s dead and gone!"

Katherine laughed even as her form started to fade away, headed off to her
final reward and rest, throwing one last verbal salvo that chilled her eldest
sibling to his (technically) nonexistent bones. "That curse kept Turner alive
until it had run its course, Ezekiel. Just because Davey Jones’ Locker was
where ye left him, that doesn’t mean he stayed there."

*************************

Author’s Note: Should I continue this, or leave it a one-shot? The idea that
William Turner, Senior, survived actually occurred to me in the movie theater.
I mean, once he settled down on the bottom, would it really be all that hard
for him to untie his boot laces and swim to the surface, or simply walk along
the ocean floor to the nearest island? Until the curse was undone by Jack and
Will, Bill was essentially indestructible. He could have just laid low for a
decade or so.

Heck, that could be the premise of the upcoming sequel! In which case, I demand
part of the writer’s royalties!

*Cringes under the onslaught of glares directed at her by Disney and their lawyers*

. . . Or not . . .

Anyway, feedback is good, because it might inspire me to actually continue this.
Or not. My muse is annoyingly fickle at times. For example, I was trying to get
psyched up to write something for Saiyan King or some original stuff, and I got
this.

*Mmm-WAH!*

I *love* my muse! =~_^=

11-19-03

I finally received Pirates of the Caribbean for Christmas and scrutinized the
credits thoroughly for any sign of Barbossa’s first name. Upon confirming the
popular theory that he quite simply doesn’t have one, I promptly made one up.
Hence the chunk of time between the writing and the posting.

Kissies!

-- Rosy the Cat

12-28-03