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