Davy Jones' Locker
The fall through the Fountain of Youth is a perilous thing; a man can end up anywhere. Different worlds, universes, alternate realities, the homes of gods; or, as Captain Jack Sparrow was discovering, back into a hell you thought you had once escaped.
Washed upon the sandy shores of the depths of the late Davy Jones' mind is one such Captain, dripping wet.
Staring at the Captain as if he is some new, fresh horror concocted by his mind is none other than the late Admiral James Norrington, in tattered and blood-soaked clothing.
There is nothing else in the endless, vast beach around them; nothing out to sea. There are only those two men, staring.
Washed upon the sandy shores of the depths of the late Davy Jones' mind is one such Captain, dripping wet.
Staring at the Captain as if he is some new, fresh horror concocted by his mind is none other than the late Admiral James Norrington, in tattered and blood-soaked clothing.
There is nothing else in the endless, vast beach around them; nothing out to sea. There are only those two men, staring.