Dead Man's Chest I Jack Sparrow

Chapter Nine

      She resisted the urge to move her eyes away from the ones that seemed to scream in agony as well as burn with hatred, instead glaring fiercely.

      "Well, well, well. It seems we have another captain on the ship." She lifted her chin up as he walked towards her, his peg leg thundering on the deck. "Jacqueline Everleigh. Your soul's worth a mighty lot."

      "I'm flattered." She growled. 

      "What say you about sealing our agreement?" She didn't dare break her stare away from Davy's cold, heartless eyes.

      "I have a new deal for you." Davy was mere inches from her, and she shifted uncomfortably.

      "I keep the boy, and Captain Everleigh for fifty souls, leaving you only fifty to go." Her jaw dropped at the preposterous statement.

      "Well—"

      "How dare you?" She snapped, ultimately interrupting Jack. "I am a captain, just as you and Jack. I deserve to be treated as such, not like a bargaining chip!" Davy Jones's face resembled shock, although it quickly washed away, leaving his expression blank.

      "Sorry, Captain Everleigh. But if I really wanted your soul, I could just take you by force." She at last broke eye contact, shifting towards Jack, who gazed at her with intense concern. She averted her eyes to the ground and muttered,

      "That wouldn't be fair."

      "Jacqueline isn't going anywhere." Jack strode forward, but stopped in his tracks when Davy Jones's voice boomed, 

      "And what if I doubled the price?" Her head snapped towards the Dutchman's captain. "I take Everleigh for one hundred souls. I'll even give you the boy." Jacqueline considered the offer. It would save Jack's life, Will's life, and ninety-nine others.

      "Okay." Jack's eyes widened.

      "Not okay." She shook her head softly and mouthed, 'it's alright'. "I'll go." Jack rushed towards Jacqueline's side. 

      "Jacqueline is staying here, you keep William, and I'll be on my merry way to go get ninety-nine other souls." Davy's eyes wandered between Jack and Jacqueline, before he barked in laughter.

      "And they say you two fell out of love." Her hands clenched and unclenched into fists. Her body went rigid under Jones's eyes. Jack tried to clutch her hand, but she tore it away before he could.

      "Back to the original deal, then?" Jones reached out and snagged Jack's hand with his tentacle, and she observed as the black spot disappeared.

      "Three days. Tell me Sparrow. How do you feel, knowing you've sacrificed one hundred men when all you had to do was give up one woman?" She ground her teeth together. She was tired of this whole ordeal, and she wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball on her bed and pass out forever. 

      "I feel great." Finally, the arms released her, and she sent daggers towards all of the Dutchman's crew before they left.

      "Mr. Gibbs." The called man jogged forwards. "I feel sullied and unusual." All she could do was stand there, the image of Davy Jones's and those icy eyes burning in her mind.

      "How do you intend on harvesting ninety-nine souls in three days?" Ninety-nine men would die because of Jack. She trembled, going unnoticed fortunately. 

      "Luckily he was mum to the conditions in which these souls need be."

      "Ah. Tortuga." She tipped her head towards the sky, squeezing her eyes shut as rain dropped onto her face. 

      "Love..." She opened her eyes to glower at Jack. He held regret in his eyes, but she wasn't sure she believed it.

      "Don't let me intrude on your hunt for innocent lives." She stormed off without another word, but she knew he followed after her. 

      "Jacqueline, wait. Stop!" She halted in her tracks, and Jack encircled her. He laid his hands on her shoulders, in which she hardened her glare. But he didn't move.

      "I'm sorry I lied to you about Will. I knew you would try to stop him." 

      "I wonder why." She hissed. "He's supposed to be our friend, no matter how vulnerable that sounds. Young Turner is a good man. What did he do to deserve the punishment of Davy Jones?" She shoved Jack's hands off of her.

      "Will's being reconnected with his father." She stiffened, and bobbed her head from side to side.

      "Jack, that doesn't make any sense. Bill, he, he..." Never had she heard of Bill Turner joining the crew of the Flying Dutchman. "Is he on the Dutchman?" Her voice came out as a whisper, as she couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact. She knew Will's father once, even became friends. The thought of him abandoned to that eternal torture...

      "Aye. I saw him. Talked to him."

      "What?" Focus, Jacqueline! That's not what matters. 

      "Not important. Jack, you could have saved so many lives."

      "Trading you was never an option." 

      She scoffed. "I can make my own decisions." Jack huffed, and he seemed to be annoyed.

      "You would have regretted it. I am not letting you go to Davy Jones." Instead of screaming, she released her anger in the form of a laugh. 

      "You think I want to join the Dutchman's crew? I want to protect the few people I care for. I could have saved William, I could have saved ninety-nine other innocents, and I could have saved you." His eyes widened, and she bit the inside of her cheek.

      "I'm fine, Jacqueline." She could feel herself growing more irked by the minute.

      "No, you're not! Davy Jones is giving you three days to bring ninety-nine men to him. Do you understand how difficult that will be?" She ran a hand through her hair. 

      "Please don't worry about me. It's going to be fine." She groaned.

      "No, Jack—you know what, nevermind. I'm going to my cabin." She stomped away, her fingernails digging into her palms. This time Jack let her go, and she made it to her room, barely keeping her emotions in. She slammed the door shut behind her and kicked the leg of her desk. Pain snaked up her body, yet she hardly felt it. She was too angry to feel anything besides her blinding rage. Her drenched clothes burdened her and she stripped her tunic off, along with her leggings. She quivered in the cold and changed into her other set of clothing. She wrung her hair out, water dropping onto the floor in small beads.

      "Damn you Sparrow, damn you Jones." She mumbled as she climbed under the sheets on her bed. However, that night she didn't sleep, instead thinking of the man a room away.