Author's Note: This was supposed to be a one shot kinda thing, but that has changed. There will only be two chapters to this story and that's it. Um... hopefully.

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Chapter 2: An Even Better Feeling

Jack Ferriman walked along the deserted corridors of the Antonia Graza, deserted of the living, anyway.

Bodies of the passengers (and some of the crew) littered the floor here and there. It was obvious how some had died. A knife in the back, a bullet wound to the head, a slit throat. So blood was everywhere. It would be terrifying for any mortal to see, but there was no mortal in sight. Only Ferriman.

With some, it wasn't so obvious how they died, but Jack knew. A broken neck, poisoned by the soup, strangled. Jack visualized some of the elegant passengers stumbling out of the ballroom, sick and dying from being poisoned, wearing their elegant dresses and elegant suits. Their death wasn't as painful as some of the others. It might have been prolonged, but not as painful.

Jack sensed all the lost, disoriented souls wandering around the corridors, unable to escape. They were all under Jack's control, trapped in this floating prison until the gates of Hell opened and herded them all in like cattle. Even the souls of the innocent, like Katie Harwood, couldn't slip away.

But there was an annoying, irritating tug at the back of Jack's mind, telling him all was not done, telling him there was someone left. The corner of his eye twitched as he realized the idiots he instructed to take care of everyone above deck didn't complete their job, but Jack would deal with their incompetence later.

Jack quickened his pace as he walked along, searching for whoever this survivor was, sniffing for his prey. It was a big ship, but Jack had all the time in the world.

As he neared the ballroom, he heard sobbing, wailing almost. For anyone who wasn't Jack, it was a frightening thing to hear. And it was distinctly feminine. A ghost of a smirk crossed his features. If he played this right, he could surprise this woman and kill her without a struggle.

He got closer and closer to the ballroom and the sobs got louder. Jack stopped when he got to an intersection where two corridors met. He peaked around the corner and there, sitting on the ground, was a young woman. She had blond, curly hair that fell just below her shoulders and she wore a beautiful green dress and silver heels that could kill a woman's ankles. Jack could see nothing more of her since she was leaning up against the wall with her knees pulled up to her face. But how could one not account for the blood? There were red splotches and stains all over her dress and even a red handprint on her lower leg, as if someone, in there dying moments, reached up to her pleading for her help. Some blood could even be seen on her golden curls.

She had to be no more than twenty.

Her sobbing slowly ceased as she looked up and turned her head in the direction of Jack. Her eyes became wide and she squeaked as she quickly stood up to run away, but as she backed up she tripped over a body and screamed but continued to move away from Jack who was, by now moving towards her.

"P-please don't kill me. Please." Her voice was barely audible.

Jack was now hovering over her and he held out his hand for her to take. When she saw this, she assumed he was as innocent as she was, so she took his hand and stood up.

"What's going on here?" Jack said in a scared voice. "I was in my room and when I came out people were dead, bodies were everywhere."

He finally got a good look at her face. Her mascara was running and her pale face was etched with the scars of tears but beneath all that she had vivid green eyes to match her dress.

"I don't know. I'm so scared. W-what do we do?" she said in that still- barely-audible voice.

"I don't know either." he lied convincingly. His voice was soothing and gave confidance as he put an arm on her shoulder.

Jack was pretending to still be surprised at the grisly scene surrounding him so he had a semi-shocked expression on his face as he looked around. But when he wasn't paying attention, the woman caught site of the gun, the very gun he had taken from the dead crew member in the cargo hold. Silly Jack. He completely forgot it was resting in his pocket.

Once more her eyes became wide and she yanked herself away from Jack. "Y- your're one of them." she she said slowly. "You helped kill everyone. You... murderer." She said it as if it was supposed to break Jack's heart and make him feel remorse.

'Danmnit' he thought. Jack turned his head to the woman and now his demeanor had completely changed. He gave off a cold, evil vibe and his eyes seemed to hold all the emptiness of a black hole.

She continued to back away until finally she got the nerve to run and she darted off around a corner, running as fast as she could even though she was wearing her killer heels.

Jack sighed. "You can't run forever!" he yelled in an annoyed way. "This is a ship, sweetheart. Where are you going to go?" He began to walk in the direction she ran and he followed her trail of fear. If she wanted to play cat and mouse, so be it.

The young woman had continued running but a ball of fear lept into her throat when she hit a dead end. She only had one choice now: to go back the way she came. She whipped around and just at that moment Jack walked out from around the corner.

The woman began to cry again and she leaned up against the dead end wall.

"Why?" she sobbed out.

"Elaborate on that question a little more." Jack said as he pulled out his gun. "Do you mean why am I doing this?"

"Please don't kill me." she sobbed as she ignored his question. "I did nothing to you."

"True, true, but neither did anyone else and you don't see them complaining." Jack chuckled as he motioned with his head down the hall.

"What are you?" she said slowly.

"Nothing that any living soul would understand." And just at that moment, just as he pulled the trigger, the woman screamed. It was an ear- splitting, blood-curdling, earth-shattering scream that filtered through the whole ship. It swam through the corridors and leaked under doors and filled the ears of the dead. It was the scream of the inevitable terror of death.

The shot rang out and her scream stopped abruptly as she dropped to the floor. He didn't kill her instantly, no, he shot her in the stomach. He walked up to her body and crouched down next to it. She was coughing and small amounts of blood could be seen forming at the corners of her mouth.

Her slowly reached for her hand.

This scene was eerily like the one in the cargo hold that it almost make Jack stop for a minute and think about how ironic it was.

As with the beautiful Francesca, in this woman's dying moments an immense pain shot up through her arm and seemed to peirce her very heart, sucking its life away. The screams of the many others before her could be heard. One scream in particular struck a chord with the dying woman as well as Jack. It was a horrifying, guilt-filled scream that made Jack's eye twitch. The scream of Francesca.

With that, that woman died.

Jack stood up and brushed off his hands. 'Job well done, Jack.' he thought to himself. He searched for any other surviving soul but found none.

Now that his job was actually done, he could rest. What a great feeling that was, too. Although, even the best of things never last. If only Jack realized everything that he had accomplished that night and over the next forty years would be gone in forty seconds.

But once more, the job was done. Truly done. And that was the greatest feeling in the world.

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Author's Note: Done. Yay! No more chappies, sorry. This is as far as I'll go with this. Please review.