Chapter 32:  Pain

 

The blade of the penknife glinted, slicing at Jack’s face, his chest…the boot dug into his side, his back…the fist beat his arm, his skull…he was bleeding, burning, hurting…

Who knew that an officer of the Royal Navy would know how to cause such pain?

“I swear, it was her decision,” Jack gasped as Norrington kicked him again.  Silent tears rolled down his cheeks.  Blood was splattered all over his face and clothing.  He was not even sure if the blood was all his, given the many times Norrington had struck him with his bleeding hand he still had yet to attend to.  “I swear…”  Jack clenched his eyes shut as he felt the penknife slash at his face again.

“I’ve had enough of your lies,” Norrington spat disdainfully.  “Your entire life you’ve done nothing but lie.”

Perhaps had done his fair share of not telling the truth, but he did not always lie.  Jack bit his lip to keep from crying out as he felt a fist make contact with his face.  A little voice in his head was telling him to tell Norrington that Robin was alive—then maybe he would stop, maybe the pain would stop…but then Norrington might hurt her.  No, Jack would not let that happen; his daughter was too precious.  Norrington claimed that this was all “For Jacqueline,” but considering what he was doing to Jack, Norrington was far too dangerous.

“Admit that it’s your fault,” Norrington hissed in his ear.  “Maybe the pain will stop.”  Jack felt a sharp pain in his back.

“I told her not to, I told her to remain behind,” Jack mumbled.  Why didn’t Norrington understand; why wouldn’t he believe him?”

“You mean you told her to marry Beckett?” Norrington said, his voice cold.  “I thought that he was your enemy.”

Jack gasped for breathed as the wind was kicked out of him.  “But…”  He was cut off by a hard boot violently impacting his mouth.  Jack spat out some blood and struggled for breath.  “Why are you doing this?”

“I believe I have already told you,” Norrington said calmly.  This was so unlike Norrington, it could not be him…  Jack felt the penknife slice his cheek again.

“She chose it,” Jack insisted.  “I tried to convince her otherwise.”  Jack moaned as he was kicked in the side yet again.  He had never imagined that such pain was possible.  How long had this been going on?  Minutes?  Hours?  Days?  He had long lost all sense of time.  Pain shot through his spine.  “Please…” he gasped.  His entire body was aching, bleeding, burning…

Jack realized that the pain was no longer increasing.  He tried to regain his breath.  Was it over?  He heard movement nearby.  “Please, what?” Norrington breathed.  The Admiral’s breath smelled of rum.  Oh, how Jack wanted rum…it would at least help numb the pain.

The cold blade of the knife lifted his chin and look up at Norrington.  There was a rage, a hunger behind those merciless eyes that Jack had never seen.  This could not possibly be the same man who had been willing to do anything for Elizabeth, who had died for her.  No one was this cruel.  Well, some pirates probably were, and then there was Lord Beckett.  But Norrington had never been like this…

“No?” Norrington said, bringing Jack out of this thoughts and back into the hell of the present.  “Very well…”  He brutally brought his hand across Jack’s face.  The pain began to increase again…

“I’m not lying,” Jack said quietly.  He was punished for this with another blow to his head.  How much more did Norrington think Jack could survive?  Tears blinded Jack’s vision.  What the bloody hell was wrong with this man?  He wasn’t even a man anymore—he was a monster.  Jack’s body convulsed in agony and he cried out.  He was no longer even sure of where he was being struck or slashed anymore—unbelievable pain seemed to be all over at once…

“Why don’t you admit what you have done?” Norrington asked, almost sweetly.  “Then perhaps I’ll bring an end to all this.”

Yes, end it…no, no, he meant death…Jack tried to shake his head, but found the movement nearly impossible.  He could hardly move at all.  “No…I told her not to…”

Something struck his face and a cold voice snapped at him.  “Liar!”

“Ask her!”

Jack was suddenly and painfully hoisted into a sitting position.  “What?” Norrington whispered.

Jack could not control his body’s shaking as he realized what he had said—and that he had just admitted that his daughter was alive.  “N-nothing…” he stammered.

Norrington struck him.  “Try again,” he hissed.

“I was just…I don’t know…”

A hand held up Jack’s face.  Jack blinked away his tears and focused on Norrington’s eyes.  Norrington was studying Jack carefully.  “She’s alive,” he breathed, his eyes losing their hatred.  “Jacqueline’s alive, isn’t she?” he asked, hope creeping into his voice.  Perhaps it was Jack’s foggy vision tricking him, but he thought that he saw Norrington’s eyes glisten with tears.

The look quickly vanished and was replaced by pure loathing.  “You lied,” he growled, raising the penknife again.  Jack realized with horror that he was preparing for a final, deadly blow.

But Norrington did not strike.  He continued to glare at Jack, an obvious desire to kill reflected in his eyes.  “Where is she, Jack?”

“Nowhere, she’s nowhere,” Jack said hurriedly, inwardly cursing himself for letting this madman know that Robin was alive.  Norrington struck him.

“Where is she?” he snarled.

Jack glared at Norrington defiantly.  This bold look earned him another strike, and then another.  Jack prepared for another brutal beating and the pain that would come with it…but it never came.  Norrington stood and took a few steps back from Jack.  “You will tell me.”  Jack stared at the Admiral in silence.  Norrington growled as he viciously kicked Jack in the face.  “Where is she?” he repeated.  When Jack still said nothing, Norrington lifted him to his feet and shoved him roughly against the wall.  “Tell me,” Norrington said quietly, his breath rapid.

Jack took a shaking breath, but still said nothing.  He would not let this monster near his daughter.  Norrington put the penknife to Jack’s neck again.  Jack was sure that he was about to die given the look in Norrington’s eyes.  It seemed to take all of Norrington’s willpower to step away.  Jack slide down the wall and to the ground, too weak to stand.  Norrington lowered the penknife slowly, his gleaming eyes fixed on Jack.

“I believe I will let your pain argue with you for a while,” he said quietly.  “Perhaps then you will tell me what I want to know.”  Jack tried to take a deep breath, but found the pain unbearable.  In fact, even though Norrington had stopped hurting him, the aching throughout Jack’s body seemed to be increasing.  This man, this monster, certainly knew something about pain.  “Guard!” Norrington called sharply.

The door opened, and an East India Company soldier entered, appearing quite nervous.  But no wonder—he had probably been hearing all that was going on in this torture chamber.  “Sir?”

“Take the prisoner to the brig,” Norrington ordered, turning his back on Jack.  The soldier’s eyes widened in shock as he looked at Jack.  Jack wondered how he must appear, and then decided that he didn’t really want to know.

“Yes, sir.”

“You have brought yourself some time, Jack,” Norrington said quietly.  He turned to look at Jack as the soldier led (nearly carried) Jack to the door.  “You will tell me…and if her version of events doesn’t match yours…well, I think you know,” he said with a dark smile.

Jack was taken to a small cell further below decks.  He was laid on a bench and locked in, but he was hardly aware of his surroundings anymore, only his pain.  Jack found himself unable to keep his eyes open, and he slipped into unconsciousness…