Sorry for the long hiatus in between chapters, but my other fanfiction, "Of Fate and Phoenix" seems to be taking up most of my time...and I didn't have the motivation to write this chapter. But, for the sake of school starting and my schedule becoming ridiculous again, I'm going to try and stay motivated for this chapter. (Plus I'm watching Dead Man's Chest while writing this, so if that's not motivation, I don't know what is!)

Special thanks goes out to nineteennintytwo! Argh, I did spell Ragetti wrong didn't I? Blast. I will try harder ^^. Also, Thank you so much! I don't know about the best ever, but it thrills me that you thought my Jack was decent. Bwahaha,

Finally, this chapter has some fun things happening plot wise, so I hope you like it!

Enjoy this chapter,

Romania Black

Chapter Twenty-Five

The ocean was rocky for the first hour or two sailing off from Tortuga; A storm gathering and pushing a front of gray clouds and hailing rain upon them. Luckily, the Lady Agira and the White Gunner were hardy vessels, and could manage the pelting downpour. As the voyage carried on another three hours, the ship slowly grew to balance on the rapidly calming sea. Annabelle kept a steady eye from the mast as Jameson stood behind her, the crew tending to the ship's sails and wheel.

"The storm's seemed to pass," Jameson observed, glancing at the dark sky above. Annabelle looked up as well and saw the dark ominous clouds had started to clear; thousands of tiny stars blotting the blackened sky.

"The storm followed us out of Tortuga, but the ship following us will probably have to sail through it," Anna said quietly, mostly to herself, "Jack told us we have the faster ships, so we should be fine."

"I honestly don't know how he'd have that information," Jameson's eyes narrowed, looking agitated. His frown made him seem older, more mature than his age. Annabelle tried not to smile; it was natural he didn't trust Captain Sparrow based on what Elizabeth had told him. But he doesn't know Jack like I do, Annabelle smirked.

"Trust me, he's found out through someone," She rested a hand on the crease of his elbow, to which Jameson looked down at the gesture with a blank expression, "He may be unreliable at times, and completely asinine as well, but Jack wouldn't lead us astray." Her eyes darkened a touch, "At least not when he has other plans for us as well."

Jameson's cold expression warmed slightly, the corners of his mouth rising gradually, "Sounds to me like you still distrust him a little."

Annabelle smiled, "There's one thing you have to know about Jack," She looked up into his dark eyes, "He always has the best intentions. But he also always has alterior motives to everything he does."

Their ships sailed in a parade against the black and silver current, until the waters started to merge, the calm waters toppling over each other like two men wrestling for a prize. The ships rocked on the rapids, barely wide enough for each ship, until they reached its delta; a pooling pond shallow enough for them to easily anchor their vessels amidst the withering swamp willows.

"Eerie," was the only word Annabelle could gather to describe it, the mast tangled in black hair-like vines. "What is this place?"

"Beats me, love," Jameson replied quietly, his eyes scanning the various marsh plants around them. "'Suppose Jack's been here before?"

"He must have," Annabelle frowned, as if the answer seemed obvious, "Why else would he have come here?"

It was Captain Jack Sparrow that came to meet Annabelle and Jameson on a small spit of muddy marshland in front of both their ships. He trudged through the murky waters in his leather boots, splashing as he approached them, his swagger more pronounced in his step.

"Where's Mr. Gibbs?" Annabelle raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed at her chest, looking narrowedly at the Captain.

Jack cocked his head up to stare at her indignantly, "Is that any way to greet a fellow captain, darling?" He placed a hand on his hat to steady it, "For your charming information, Mr. Gibbs is in charge of watching the ship in my absence."

"Why?" Annabelle smirked, "Afraid of losing another ship?"

Jameson instantly turned to give her a warning look, "Anna-!"

There was a gun in Jack's hand, but it wasn't pointed at Annabelle, though the struggling grip of the Captain suggested that it was taking all his effort not to. "Should you feel inclined to know the truth, Missy Dalton," Jack struggled through gritted teeth, "Mr. Gibbs is the first mate, and the first mate stays with the ship in the Captain's absence." He managed a grin at her dumbed expression, "Or did they not teach you that in Captain's class?"

Annabelle forced her face away as her cheeks flushed pink. Jack's grin grew wider as he patted her shoulder, walking further into the marsh.

"Where are you going, Captain Sparrow?" Jameson called out to him.

"Further in, lad," Jack answered cryptically, "Unless you think we came here merely to sight-see?" He turned his head, inclining to the two young sailors, as if to request them to follow.

"Come on," Annabelle brushed past Jameson, her face still flustered. The two followed him into the darkness of the willows and vines around them.

Jameson stared at Captain Sparrow's back as they walked, his brown eyes focused on the pirate intently. He spoke to Annabelle without altering his gaze, "Why do you suppose we're taking this twisted path?" He said this as they turned another corner in the swamp. Their path hadn't exactly been straight forward into the bleak marsh; in fact, they'd altered their course several times to snake through the dense weeds, "Why not go onward as the crow flies?"

"Because we'd be dead like the crow, Master Turner," Jack's voice called out in an annoyed fashion, making Jameson's face pale. "This path allows us to avoid the deeper waters."

"And just what," Annabelle picked up the end of her skirt and sloshed forward, "Are we going towards, Captain?" She was now side by side with him, staring into his khol-lined eyes.

"Answer me this first, love," Jack inquired with a wave of his hand, "Just why did you allow your own first mate to venture with us? Have you considered the possibility your faithful men will abandon you and your bonny l-lad?" He rephrased his last word and gave her a serious stare.

Annabelle gave him a incredulous stare, "Pardon me, Captain, but that would be under one, the circumstance that Jameson was my first mate," to this Jack's eyes widened, "And two, the circumstance that my ship wasn't protected by alterior forces." Now his stare was more of curiosity and bewilderment, so Annabelle felt the need to explain further, "Your father, Jack," The captain's eyes grew wider still, but did not seem surprised.

"Is that so?" Jack turned his gaze to look forward, avoiding her eyes.

"Yes," Annabelle rolled her eyes, frustrated he wasn't affected by her words, "I'm quite happy at least someone's inclined to keep their promises to me."

"Really darling," Jack's boot arose out of the swamp, a suction sound croaking as he lifted his foot to step on what Annabelle surprisingly only now saw was a wooden step. "Sometimes I find myself believing you have no faith in me at all."

Through the mist and gray waters, the fog cleared enough to where the wooden ladder Jack had stepped upon was now fully visible. The ladder connected to a shack of a wooden villa, seemingly held up by the dense air itself. Annabelle and Jameson both looked at each other as if to ask if either had seen the hut there before.

"Captain..." Annabelle's voice trailed off.

"How did you know where this was?" Jameson asked as the Captain started to climb the ladder.

"When you've been somewhere as much as I have before," Jack grunted, looking for a moment at the young man, "You remember such things as location, lad." He gave his head a nod upwards, motioning them to follow him. Annabelle and Jameson looked at each other again, both silently deciding to trust the Captain thus far.

The villa was eerily silent as Jack opened the door, the wood creaking as several cobwebs fell onto the dusty floor. Annabelle and Jameson shuffled into the space behind Jack, the door closing awkwardly behind them.

The inside of the shack was cluttered with knick knacks, cabinets filled with artifacts of strange design. This was visible only because of the dimly lit candles casting a creepy orange glow throughout the main room of the hut. Witchcraft, Annabelle grimaced. It looked as if someone had once been steadily cleaning the inside, but had recently quit; the dust gathering in clumps on the floor, and a few small shoots of green starting to snarl up from the floorboards.

"What is this place?" Annabelle glanced at a glass jar hanging beside her head. It was filled with eyeballs. Real eyeballs.

"The former residence of able-bodied, and highly avoided yet sought after spiritual entity Tia Dalma," Jack looked about the inside with a sudden timid nature, to suggest that touching anything would cause bodily harm.

"Who?" Annabelle asked with a furrowed brow. She turned to Jameson, thinking he would have the same reaction; to her surprise he did not. He looked instead as if someone had fed him spoiled fish.

"Never you mind," Jack was eyeing the shed skin of a white cornsnake that lay near a rusted grandfather's clock, "She's neither here nor gone. The thing of importance here," Jack meandered through the clustered room, eyeing trinkets on a table, before looking into the darkness ahead, where candles were not lit, "comes from what's been left."

"Stop speaking in riddles, Captain Sparrow," Jameson growled, his brown eyes angry.

"Yes," A voice came from the darkness, cool and as smooth as black rum. Annabelle spun around, her eyes dancing in the candlelight. "Please quit speaking in tongues, Jackie," the voice cooed.

"Captain Teague!" Annabelle rushed forward, past both a puzzled Jameson and Jack, who gave her a grouchy, disgruntled look. "You're here."

"Aye, Annie," Teague took a graceful stride into the candlelight, his black mustache complimenting his devilish grin. He patted her shoulder, "I see you made it out Singapore," His dark eyes scanned Jameson's face silently, "Without hitch."

"Yes, but I thought you were following us to Tortuga," Annabelle quietly protested, standing beside him. Even much older than her, they were almost the same height.

"I intended to see you off," Teague replied coarsely, his eyes traveling to his son, who was looking away at a shell portrait on the wall, "'Cept I was called here to Tia Dalma's...by Jackie."

"What?" Annabelle scoffed, her angry eyes focused on Captain Sparrow, "And just when were you going to tell me this?"

"When was it imperative that I did?" Jack shot back, spinning in place.

"Why are we here?" Jameson asked in a frustrated huff, his eyes rolling.

"Ah," Jack took this opportunity to take control of the conversation once more, "We are here," He gave his father an unsettled glance, "Due to the strange nature of this residence's current occupant."

Annabelle gave him a confused look, her mouth pursed, "You just said this Tia Dalma had passed away, didn't you?"

"And that was years ago," Jameson added grimly. Annabelle and Teague both shot a silent stare his direction. Jack smirked,

"True, lad, the deity of the sea has indeed returned to her watery abode," Jack mused a finger near the dripping wax of a candle beside him, "But shortly after her departure from this green earth, the home we bear foot in now was occupied by another spiritually inclined presence-"

"Layman's terms, Jack," Annabelle impatiently cut in.

"-meaning," Jack lifted the candle and led them towards the back, unlit, room. Annabelle followed, Teague and Jameson inches behind, "Another mystic was living here for a fair few years after the death of Lady Dalma."

The candle lit up the area in front of Jack and Annabelle, showing visibly the makings of a bed; covered in molding vines, Annabelle leaned forward over Jack's shoulder to see what was on the bed. The vines connected to a pair of legs, bound together by rope. To her displeasure the legs seemed to be starting to swell, purple and blue. Without control, her eyes darted to the left, the rotting legs connected to swollen yet bony hands tied together with rope, then to the skeletal neck, then to the neck that was slit in half. The head lay decapitated on the pillow; the eyes rotted out of the skull, and the mouth gaped open in horror-

"Guhh!" Annabelle gagged and fell back from Jack's shoulder, her eyes shutting in terror. Jack frowned and looked back at her.

Jameson's eyes were wide with disgust, "What...what happened here?"

"'Pears the Madame was bound," Teague pointed matter-of-factly to the bed, "Taken head off, seems."

"Why?" Jameson eyed the body.

"Wait," Annabelle choked, lifting her head back up to stare hesitantly over Jack's shoulder, "Teague, you said...The Madame?" She forced herself to stare at the face, twisted in agony. Despite the eyes gone, and the face starting to rot at the cheek with the nose completely gone; it was no doubt the face she had seen years ago as a child. "It is her-err, was."

"Wouldn't have had you follow me out here," Jack muttered, his eyes narrowed on the woman's corpse, "But I gandered it'd serve you better to follow me out here as to try and outrun whatever's following you."

Teague stared at Jack with a curious gleam in his dark eyes. Jameson peered at the woman on the bed, his eyes turning to Jack and Annabelle, "Why did you want to come here? Did you expect to find this?"

"We've been trying to contact the Madame for months," Jack answered, sighing in mild frustration at the task of exposition. "It was only until a few weeks ago we entertained the possibility of something like this happening."

Annabelle glanced up at Jack, Why are Teague and Jack working together?

"I see," Jameson stated bluntly.

"So what then?" Annabelle straightened, her back to Jack, staring to Teague, "What do we do now?"

"You two should make for land," Teague motioned to Jameson and Annabelle, "Twas dangerous having you here in the first place. Two ships is an easy target."

"Clever planning, Captain," Annabelle shot Jack a dirty look, as he looked unaffected by the fact that they were in danger.

"Why thank you, Captain," Jack smiled a gold-toothed grin in reply.

"Come, let's leave this room," Jameson gave a disgusted last glance at the rotting corpse, "Annabelle's face is greener than these murky depths." The female captain gave him a stifling glance; not wanting to admit that she was feeling sick against the smell of the rotting flesh.

"Very well," Teague nodded, moving towards the candlelight.

Annabelle grasped the side of Jameson's arm, "Thank you," She whispered near his ear.

"Not at all, love," Jameson smiled faintly, looking down at her.

Jack looked mildly nautious himself at the scene, "Yes, let us move clear of this bag of bones, bless her soul," He quickly added, bowing curtly to the body, "and rid our sails of these accursed swamps." His glance briefly gave attention to Teague, "I'm sure you've found all needed?"

"Aye," Teague quietly nodded, drawing himself to the door, "Take care, Annie," He tilted his dark head to give her a gentlemanly nod, "Best be seeing you sooner next time."

"Of course, Captain," Annabelle smiled, as Teague left. She listened to his footsteps as they echoed down the wooden ladder, splashed into the murky swamp, and faded from ears-length. There was a moment of silence, as she watched Jack grab a few trinkets off the dusty table, as Jameson stared at him with mild contempt. She almost laughed at the sight, before a small rumble below her feet distracted her amusement. What was that? "Jameson," She came up beside him, her hand clasped on his forearm, "Did you feel something just now?"

"No," Jameson tore his eyes from Jack's theft to give Annabelle a curious look, "What was it?"

"I don't know," Anna replied simply, her eyes scanning the floor around them, "I just felt a small vibration-Jameson," She suddenly stated, her green eyes frozen. What on earth-

"What?" The young Blacksmith leaned over to stare at her, Jack still stealing trinkets off the shelves, "What is it?"

"We're on stilts-I mean, this villa is above the water, correct?" Annabelle's eyes were locked in place, staring in horror straight in front of her.

"Well...yes, to my knowledge we are," Jameson cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Annabelle felt her heart in her chest pounding. It wasn't possible; and then..."We need to leave here. Now." She said gravely, her face paling.

"Love, what are you babbling about?" Jack finally turned from taking trinkets and gave the girl an unimpressed glance. "Seriously, love, this is a most unfortunate time to be having fits of fear regarding how high up we are-"

"Captain, what pray tell is that?" Annabelle pointed a shaking finger forward, her pale face practically the color of her eyes. Both Jameson and Jack followed her finger to see what she was motioning towards.

It was a tentacle; an enormous purple tentacle that was slithering on the side of the shack's wall like a snake waiting to devour its prey. The tentacle coiled around one of the legs of the table.

Jack looked up at Annabelle, his eyes suddenly wide in both surprise and unexpected fear. "That, my love, is the reason we need to leave immediately."

"I thought the same," Annabelle nodded, and the tree took off towards the door.

A loud burst cracked behind them, and the boards sprung up; splintering the wood below them and causing the walls to start to buckle on either side of them. The wood squeaked and groaned as they ran across it. Jack was the first out the door, soaring down into the murky waters. Jameson jumped second, Annabelle following short behind. The three landing into the dirty water with a loud conjoined splash. She didn't stay under hardly any time at all, rising and gasping for air as her and Jack and Jameson surfaced; their faces grimy and slick.

"Go straight to land!" He shouted. Luckily land was directly beside them.

Annabelle and Jameson both scurried to the escape towards the mud, their hands slipping as they tried to gain traction by digging fingers into the black soil. Everything was happening at a faster-than-normal pace; Annabelle only had time to look back, glancing at the giant squid-like creature tearing apart the villa piece by piece as if it was a paper doll.

Annabelle was instantly cold, but glad she had made it out alive alongside Captain Sparrow and her friend. Feeling a sudden gust of wind on her backside, she grimaced; Jameson grabbing her by the shoulder and leading her into the woods where the beast could not follow.

"What the Bloody Hell was that just now?" Jameson whispered, his eyes looking down at Annabelle with a terrified and bewildered expression.

Annabelle lay her head against his arm, her eyes wide and still frozen open, "I hope I never find out."

Sorry if this was sloppy at the end, but I hope you liked it!

Next chapter to come soon!

Happy weekend,

Romania Black