Peter Pan and Me

Scary Story Night
I looked at the arrow point. Graham pulled it back. It then came forward. I
watched as the point grew and grew as though sailing in slow motion. It grew
because it was coming closer and closer to me. To right between my eyes!
Peter strung an arrow, fast as lightning and shot it. The arrow hit Graham's
arrow and SPLUNKED it upward. Both arrows flew directly at the apple on my
head. I shut my eyes! Not sure when I did that mind you but I shut them. I
believe I saw the arrow of Peter's hit the arrow of Graham's. Now, then, lucky
reader, you might have the privilege of not knowing what happened but I do. I
ask you, do you think Peter would claim the win if Graham's arrow, in the lead,
even though propelled by his own shot, was first to hit the apple? I think
not nor should you. For that insufferable fair game player shot yet a second
arrow! He shot it so fast, it hit both arrows, embedded together, off course.
I opened one eye. My right eye. "Is it over?"
Peter shrugged, "Fair thee not, fair maiden."
"Go fuck yourself," I said. I turned my head left and my apple almost fell
off as it hit the shafts of the arrows. The arrows, all three, one in the
other, had hit to my left.
Peter smiled, "Chase, don't make that apple fall. I don't believe the bad
captain Graham has another and if not, then this shall have to wait another
day and night before I go seek some out."
"I..." I caught the apple as it fell. "I want this over with. What the hell
happened?"
The men and the Lost Boys were all wondering the same thing. Some of them
bet on Peter, some on Graham and I would like to know who among the boys bet on
Graham. I or Peter would like to sorely spank them...hard. I put the apple
back on my head as some of them told me, in parts, different sections from
different boys and Vikings, what happened. Sigh.
"You must aim better, sweet Viking captain," Peter said, "For I do not
want my Chase hurt, damaged or maimed."
"Thank you Peter," I yelled.
"For he is mine and I need to look at his face and I want it the way it is.
I love it the way it is. Not with any ole arrow holes in it."
Sigh. I wanted to call this bet off. But I knew better. With the Vikings
and the Lost Boys so well mingled now any attempt to call off the bet, would
call off this unsteady truce and that would mean open warfare on the Viking's
open turf. Sure, Peter'd get away but how many Boys would be lose? And would I
be able to get away? And then there's that insufferable, strange turtle
girl? Thus, I had to go on with charade. "Let's get it right this time, shall
we?" I put the apple back on again and steadied it and put my bare back to
the grimy Viking wall of the ship.
Peter tutted. "I did get it right. It was old wooden arms here, master of
splinters at arms, that messed up. I never miss!"
Graham shoved his anger down, "Then I get to go again?"
"Oh great," I said.
"I had two shots. You had one. Fair is fair."
"Peter you trusting little fool," I wanted to say but this is what I
loved about him. He trusted. Like a child. Like an innocent babe. Which,
depending on when you saw him or spoke to him, he was. He was so many things. Graham
shot and the arrow, this time, hit to the slight left of the apple.
"Not a bad shot I do say so myself, my stilted armed enemy," Peter smiled
and drew his bow as Graham fumed. "But now it's the master's turn..."
"Master bater," I added.
"I heard that," Peter said, "Tis not a good ting to insult the being
aiming an arrow at thy head."
"Go on you big blow hard, shoot it," I said, playfully. I trusted Peter.
I had been with him so long now that I knew he'd not kill me. Right? Wound
me, maybe. Kill me, no? So I...PHEWM. And it was over just like that. The apple
was split in two by Peter's arrow. I caught the two pieces and began to eat
them with fervor. I was hungry...and as I finished them before Peter and Graham
made amends with the game being over...I realized how like Peter I still was.
"I gave my word," Graham said, "You may all go free." He threw the keys
to Peter.
"I knew you'd keep your word of ARM or." Peter laughed and undid Chase's
ankle chains and the other chains on him.
Je'ne was unchained and he ran to Hannah. "Are you ready to fly?"
"She cannot," Peter said, nearly dropping me out of my chains.
"Peter..." I was angry that he was more determined to keep Je'ne away from
Hannah suddenly, than in helping me to get out of this hellhole. I saw the
naked fairy boy that looked like one of the Culkin brothers and he sprinkled me
with the dust. "How did you put up with Peter for so long, Oliveer, I..." I
fumed as the fairy boy ignored me, too, and flew over to sprinkle Je'ne.
"I can go a different way," Hannah said and kissed Je'ne's cheek. He
turned a bit red, which was a wonder since he was so naturally dark skinned.
Peter went wide eyed and a bit shocked. I don't know why. He was even more
shocked when Hannah, before diving over the side of the ship, returned to Je'ne, a
second thought on her mind. She pressed her lips to his and kissed. Deeply.
Je'ne's eyes went wide. Peter's eye's, blue and beautiful, went so wide I
swore they would pop out of his head. When they finally parted after a full
two minutes, Hannah said to Je'ne and I do not to this very day, believe she
meant any malice and her tone did not belie any evil meanings...but she said, "
Think about my offer. I still have to find my mate and I still need one who
is willing to grow up like you..."
Peter might have heard that or not. I'm not sure. For knowing what would
come next, I ran to Peter and rather falsely I thought, said, "Oh Peter, thank
you for rescuing me..." I planted a deep kiss on his mouth to distract him
from Je'ne's still-on-the-table proposition from the turtle girl. To become
human, she will have to have a mate and that mate would then resume growing up.
And he would have to leave Neverland with her...possibly forever. I kissed
Peter so deeply I thought...and pretty much felt...that I was sucked into his mouth
and his very being...as though I was melding into his very face and body...down
down down and I was coming up on my lower body. Peter was too I thought. Je'
ne had a full erection and as Peter tried to look down at it, I put my hands
on the side of his beautific face and held those eyes level with mine. "
MMMMPFFHAHFTT!"
Peter broke. Hannah dove off the ship. I heard Graham say, "Damn!" Not
sure why. Maybe he was turned on by my kiss or the kiss between Hannah and Je'
ne. Or both. Or just mad that he lost this round. Or did he? Maybe he was
getting what he wanted by getting Je'ne to turn more toward Hannah. Graham moved
over to Je'ne.
Peter took his hands and gently moved me aside, "Chase, not in front of the
Vikings."
"What?" I fumed again.
Peter was about to check that the other boys were able to fly off, which
they were, ignoring me but he turned back to me and put his hand on my chest. It
tingled where he touched. "By the way, that was fantastic...you...I love you so
friggin much..."
"Peter..." My entire mood lightened. I melted all over again.
Je'ne was last to take to the air, even after myself and Peter. Graham was
behind him, whispering, "Remember my offer. If the fair lady...well, not so
fair, dark really, if she turns human and you need to leave this wretched
NeverNeverLand...you shall need a way to. And I have a ship..."
Je'ne said nothing to the man but took to the air but the way he turned back
to look down upon both the Captain of the Vikings and the sea where the feet
of Hannah could still be seen, aimlessly drifting...told Graham everything he
wanted to know. Je'ne was contemplating growing up. He stared for a long
time. One of Graham's men asked him if they should fire a spear at Je'ne but
Graham laughed slightly, "I already have."
Twilight: something felled some trees. Something big and monstrous,
something marching through. Something bigger than it should be. It was a threat to
the woods...
Night. Chirpings that sounded nice during the day seemed to take on a scary
life of their own as the darkness settled overhead. The usually clear
Neverland sky was dark with thick clouds, ominous, ready to pour out something evil
and deadly. Hootings of the Never Owls seemed to be stranger than usual. As
though something had taken them over and maybe changed them into minions of
evil. Eyes seemed to stare out at the Lost Boys as they made their way to the
Mahican Indian Village. Peter lead, bravely, marching in an over the top style
this time. I was behind him, constantly turning to check on my brood.
Tanned and not normally confused Je'ne but now absent minded. I asked the Asian
and tight bodied Aoi to keep an eye on Je'ne of late, especially on a night
such as this. Blond and innocent Landen. Blond blue eyed Sole. Ex prostitute
Rollin. Bo and Jennie, the smallest of the bunch. As we trekked, Peter told
scary stories, starting by mentioning, "Forewith boys, for tonight is the
most evil of all nights...Friday the 13th..."
The boys cringed all but Aoi. Je'ne just yawned, bored with such games.
Growing up maybe? Possibly?
"But Peter," Sole asked, "I thought you said it was Halloween night?"
Peter stopped, turned to the line of boys and moved to Sole and slapped his
head, making blond hair flight. "It is, my toadie Sole..." Now Sole looked
less like a toad than any lost boy...ever. In fact, he looked more like an angel.
But anyway. "It is Friday the 13th, on Halloween Night...the night of nights...
when witches and jack o'lanterns come to life and all manner of evil beasties
come forth..."
As we continued our trek, larger figures than we also marched through the
woods...but with more stealth. "Belay all that noise, I wish to conduct this in
secret..." Vikings were on the prowl. And some of them carried bodies. Big,
impossible bodies. Dead bodies...
"Dead bodies!" Peter said. They were at the campfire of the Indians.
Mahican boys and girls sat around, listening in glee. "Alive but hungry..."
"Hu...hun...hung..hungry for whaaa what, Peter?" Landen quaked. Jennie
laughed. Bo smiled.
Peter faked a large bite out of Landen's bare shoulder, "For human flesh!!!!
"
Landen gasped and pulled away! Cringing. Peter moved back and laughed. "You
have a nice tasting shoulder, food boy."
I brought some marshmallows from the main Indian tent. "Look at what the
Chief made them gather today? Never mellows..."
I took pointy sticks and put marshmellows on them and passed them around to
the boys, the Native children and one to Peter, who angry, ate it. "Fire first
..." I told him.
"Fire! Chase now you've gone and spoiled my story. Fire is how the zombies
get..." Peter shut his eyes and seemed to be orgasming. "These taste so
good...I almost forgotten..."
"No, silly ass. You're supposed to be put them in the fire..."
Peter grabbed handful of the marshmellows out of the bag in my hands and
tossed six of them into the fire. He stared at it. "Now what?"
I sighed. "Doncha see what I'm doing here? Don't you ever pay any attention?
"
"Sure I do----- to me!" Peter laughed. Everyone, including me, laughed
too. "Don't overfeed the Indian children, Chase."
"Why ever not?"
"Because on this night, at midnight and it's almost that now, the entire
tribe leaves to join the other tribes at Witch Falls Mountain...in order to ...to,
ahh, to bind the evil spirits. The ones that took over this little girl
called Reagan one time...she was a nice girl but this demon was so evil...that..."
As Peter told the stories....I wondered about somethings.
"So we're here and we have to sleep here alone?" Landen asked.
"Don't sweat it, I'm here to protect you, Landen," Peter chided, "Now
please quit interrupting me story."
"Sorry, Peter."
"Blow hard."
"Is that a proposition or a request?" Peter asked.
I made my eyes grow wide. "Peter Pan? What do thee know of such things?"
Peter smiled and winked at me. "The thing in the little girl made her head
spin around and as such she tried to get free of it, writing in blood along
her chest messages for help..."
Thus, Peter went on almost all night about monster stories, both old and
new, mixing NIGHTMARE FROM ELM STREET with ancient legends, fairy tales, those
most horrid gory stories from childhood, with newer fables and tales and
monster movies along with stuff that I was sure never happened and stuff I was
positive did happen. He mixed Jonah and the Whale with James Whale's 1930s
movies. The Creature from the Black Lagoon with Dracula and the Mummy. He told
urban legends and ...I was most impressed with his story telling this time. Wendy
and I had done our job well. I would have told some stories but I didn't like
keeping the Lost Boys up all night...he even told the man with the hook story,
the phone calls came from within the house story, and SCREAM, I KNOW WHAT
YOU DID LAST SUMMER and everything else in between. He wringed from Japanese
culture quite often.
The same time that we had trekked through the night wood, other larger
figures moved as well. Graham led many of his men through the wood and he kept
shushing them to be quiet. They moved to the lake. "It is after 12, the witching
hour..."
"We're not afraid captain."
"I know. That's why I brought you lot instead of the superstitious others
on board my ship."
"His ship." The man speaking to Graham said and nodded to the lake.
"MY ship, you blasted foreigner!"
"Shhhh," the crewman put his finger to his mouth.
"Take that small boat and put to water," Graham said, "We have much work
to do. I have to follow her directions precisely..."
"Who's, sir, if you don't mind my asking?"
"The WITCH moved in and spread her claws wide!" Peter nearly yelled as he
told the story.
"Oh Peter," I mocked. "I'm going to gather some more marshmallows."
Peter ignored me and kept on going with his story, enrapturing the Boys with
it. He was getting really good at storytelling. "...and she reached the
parchment but the boy was faster..."
I strode through the woods looking for the marshmallow plants that had the
white cotton like things on the end of their branches. They were easy to find.
The Indians of both tribes had left by now. I heard a howl. It sounded like
a werewolf. Peter's stories, making my jumpy. Then I realized, finding the
plants, and turning to see a whole circle of them in a huge blue lit grove,
that this was Neverland. I recalled how Peter had to slay Jason Voorhees,
Freddie Kruger, and Michael Myers, the modern day horrors of horrors. They had been
real. Peter's stories, for all I knew, were real. Were adventures he had
been on. A cold shiver ran up my spine as I gathered more marshmellows and
stuffed them into a huge leather bag, one the Indians had given me. I began to
look around nervously. Something caught my eye. Movement. Trees shaking. One
falling. I squinted. I moved toward it, rather foolishly. I blinked. It seemed
to have stopped. The wind? I heard that howling again. It sounded like the
wolf/dog that signaled Barnabus Collins' arrival before his vampiric attacks on
the citizens of Collinwood in the soap opera DARK SHADOWS. Or the wolf in the
1933 movie DRACULA or even THE WOLFMAN himself. Could it be any one of them?
I looked closer and thought I saw a leg of some giant insect. It moved. I
jumped back. "What the fuck?" Another tree, not far from the leg began to
fall and I turned to see it fall and when I turned back, the leg seemed to be
gone. I quickly finished and stuffed the bag full of mellows and made to return
as quickly as possible.
Peter was still telling stories as the Lost Boys made their bed rolls.
Jennie and Bo shared one bedroll, closest to Peter and Landen. Landen was one side
of them, Peter the other. Aoi, Sole, and Rollin seemed to share too but not
just a bedroll. They had their bedrolls, Indian given, spaced no further
apart than a mere half inch. And Rollin seemed to wrap one of his arms around Sole
's neck and shoulders and his other around Aoi's. Aoi didn't seem to like
it or rather, he pretended not to like it but I think secretly he did. His
bedroll certainly seemed to enlarge in the lower area, proving he probably did
like it. Like his mother and father...me and Peter. Peter went on, scaring the
boys...and now, me as well. "The things were zombies, much like Graham's...but
these scoured the entire school, eating boys and, ughk, girls, alike. Brains
is what they liked best but any part of any boy or girl would do. And once
bitten, you had to become one of them...it was day time nightmare..."
"Peter," I scolded, "If you tell any more scary stories...I mean if the
boys stay awake all night, then you will have to stay away all night, too."
Peter puffed his chest out, "I always stay awake all night!"
I knew personally that this was not true but I was not in the mood to
contradict Peter, at least not about that. "With them!!!!"
"Oh." Peter nodded, "All right then, mother, perhaps, I am taking this too
seriously. Maybe...you can come up with ways to turn away the fear of the
stories, then?" Peter didn't want to betray it in his voice but I knew he
already wanted me to take over the storytelling. He wanted me to go on and he had
had enough storytelling of his own. He wanted someone else to take over and it
had to be me. For he loved the way I told stories.
I came to sit in his lap. "Okay then, which story was the scariest?"
Each boy had a different story that scared them. It was going to be a long
night. "Okay, let's start with the demon possession story..."
Graham watched as Acun rose from the water. Dripping plants and lake water
alike from mouth and eye sockets. Flesh almost totally burned off. "She told
me the true spell. I can now do what she did. Raise the dead."
The men with Graham looked afraid. But the one from before, Soko, came
forward, "What will you have us do now, Captain?"
"I want to find the bodies of the Berserkers and raise them. Do you recall
where they fell?"
"I do. We all do. It was a miracle those boys killed them....all."
"Well, we shall avenge them. Tonight."
"Yes sir. Thusly, all the Berserkers will..."
"NOOOOO!"
"No?"
"No. I have another mission for just three of them. The other seven and my
second, Acun, can come with me!"
"Your second, but, but, but he was the captain..."
"Aye and now he's the captain of the fish of the sea!" Graham laughed
loudly. "NOW GO!"
"Shhhh!"
"Shhhe, Aoi, while Mother tells the rest of the story."
"The priest was named Peter too and he made the girl spew the demon right
out of her. The demon went back to hell and died there. The girl and the priest
became friends. The priest realized he loved the girl's mother and he left
the church..."
Three big rounds of cheer from the Lost Boys.
"The Wolf Man was cured by Dr. Endelman who was in turn cured of Dracula's
blood after a transfusion from the Frankenstein Monster itself. The Monster
turned to good and stopped the evil of Dracula once and for all by biting
Dracula's neck and turning Dracula into a good...a good..."
Peter finished, "Ice cream seller!"
"Ice cream yum," Jennie sent to their minds, telepathically.
I'm glad Peter donated to my story. As I said, he was getting very, very
good at this. I think he's changed. Well, at times, I think he's changed so
much and then he just reverts to some former childishness that I thought he'd
left behind ages ago. I'm never sure of him and perhaps that's what I love
about him, or one of the things I love about him. And maybe that's why it is
called Never Land. Never sure of him. The boys seemed to forget their fear of
the woods and the supernatural, just as my own stirred to a head, so to speak.
Peter's lap under me seemed gentle enough but I'm sure he'd grown as I sat
on it. I had other stories to put a good ending on.
"The family lived happily ever after and no more poltergeists could bother
them again, not in a house, a hotel, an apartment building...for they had a
whole team called the Legacy to look after them."
More cheers.
"The man in the house knew he loved the woman who kept answering the phone
and that Christmas, she realized she loved the man on the phone also and
together they made a great couple. Let's see what else?"
Soon all the scary stories had a crackingly good ending and the crackle of
the campfire eased the boys into a sound sleep. I stayed awake, my eyes
darting to and fro. What evil lay in the woods this night. I'm not often like this.
Not even on Halloween, All Hallow's Eve, or Friday the 13th or even the
combination of them. But something I saw...something I felt moreso... something was
afoot. Peter snored, his head cradled in my lap from behind me. How'd he
manage that, I never knew, not even now in my omnipotent state, for I still sat
on his lap and yet he had his head in mine. I laid back to sleep and was atop
his tight and slender body, his head rolled back and I used my backhand to
grab it from falling too hard to the ground. It had to be 3am by now. Maybe
later. One often lost track of time in Never Never Never land.
I began to lightly stroke that long blond hair. It was longer now than I'd
ever seen it. And almost bleach blond now. I had an idea. I took the very tip
of my fingers and just lightly touched Peter's fingers, the back of them,
under the nail and I moved my fingers along his and down the back of hand,
rounding to his inner wrist and turning back to his upper arm, the back of it,
rounding on his arm this way, gently touching. It might wake him up but it also
felt very good for me and for him, I think. It would probably wake him up
and he, indeed, he stirred. "Oh."
I moved my hands along to his upper arms and felt his skin there. So smooth,
so muscled, so tight. I moved further up to his curved shoulders. All the
right living made him strong and sinewy. He was so fucking hot. I couldn't help
myself. I grew wet. I moved my hands back down his arms and did the whole
thing over again. This time I didn't' stop at his shoulders, I went under his
hairless arm pits and tingled there, just gently touching. Lightly. So he
could hardly feel it.
"Oh, oh." He moved his head from my growing lap to my thigh. My leg. I
tingled now. Where his longish hair brushed against me, my skin moved with
lightness and being and star power. I swallowed. I stopped my hand and held the
tingles on his own body and he said again, "OH." For a second he opened
his eyes and shut them again. "Do some more." I did.
My finger tips went to his pecs and touched around his nipples and then just
barely scrapped his nipples, dare I do more? I pressed gently and they moved
in and bounced back right away. I sat up some more and Peter spread out, his
butt on my crotch and his legs out to one way and his head on my hip now, my
BARE hip. Touching an erogenous zone there. I moved and arched my back.
"Oh."
"Oh."
"My."
I touched under his pec and down it and to his baby ribs. Tingling him away.
He arched now. "It's so hot."
Did he mean the weather? Or me? Or what I was doing. Or what? I didn't care.
I continued. I rubbed my fingertips ---at times not touching---and at times
having to touch too much---along his sides and rounded to his abs and the
obvious belly button area but I just slightly poked a finger tip inside, my
pointer finger on one hand and my pinkie on the other. I rubbed all around it,
like my fingers were some natives worshipping some god...and perhaps they were. I
hit every area on him and must have hit some erogenous zones on him for I
saw him grow in the crotch area too.
"OH! OH!" He sat up and looked down at himself.
I didn't let that stop me. I was going for it. I was going to continue until
this hot bleach blond blue eyed muscled babe forced me not to. I rubbed my
fingers down to his hips, rounding from his front boy belly and lower belly. I
kept moving back and forth between all of his flesh. I moved my finger back
up and put my thumb in his navel and used that as a base, as a pivot to rub
my other four fingers on that hand along his lowest of low on his belly and
tingled and just tinged the area above his dick. He jumped backward but he
would only jump into my lap some more, which suited me fine. He was wet and his
forehead sweated. The body glistened. His body was shining. He smiled. He
liked it. He licked his lips. I licked his lips. I was not aware of the rest of
the world. I used my other hand to rub up his upper abs from below his navel
and crisscrossed both hand when I wasn't licking lips. He kicked his legs in
pleasure. My penis filled and bulged. I was about to let it all loose. Peter
put his hands around my back and sat up to face me. We kissed deeply. He
rubbed my bare back. Oh shit!
I said it out loud, "Oh shit."
"OH, OH, OH! Oh my ..." Peter said, "Something's happening to me!"
"IT's allright Peter!"
"I'll say it's allright," Peter said, "Feels like burning hot!"
"It good for you?"
"Yeah! I'll say so!"
"You've done it before a bit..."
"I love you, Chase," Peter said, and kissed me again.
I was in heaven. Literally. The world vanished for me and I believed for
him, too. He saw only me. Which was great and also...was bad...for as we lost in
each other...
"Peter Pan! This is IT! The IT! You're surrounded!" Graham's voice.
"Fucking fuck. I'm gonna kill him myself! I want him dead for doing this
now and here!"
Peter smiled and broke out spit sharing. He stood up, erect in every way and
suddenly had his sword out...his metal one. I jumped up, too, much more
unsteady than Peter. The only Lost Boy around us was Je'ne. "It's them!"
I turned to Je'ne, "You didn't bring them here, did you?"
"Me? No, would I do that?"
"No..." I said, suddenly aware of what I asked him, "Sorry, Je'ne..just..."

"Where your other Lost boys ran away...the one manly one, Je'ne stays..."
Graham said. Around Peter, the campfire, myself, and Je'ne were the New Vikings.
Talon. Malice. Many more. "You're outnumbered..."
"Not in how much or many ARMS I have," Peter taunted Graham. "I mean real
arms...another word for weapons, ARMS are, armed one. Or wait, you're not,
not armed, are you? Well, what arm can that do, aye?"
"Why won't you just leave us alone?" I screamed at him.
Peter tut tutted me and patted my head and shoulders, "Chase, Chase, Chase.
Relax. I got it covered. I'm all over it. And later you...but let me...a tiger
can't change its stripes, can it? Graham is mine and all is men, too."
Je'ne pulled a knife from Peter's belt and held it up. Peter turned to look
at him. Graham smiled, "My boy, that's the way! I will give you one last
chance to join my crew and I and to grow up into a man and take the fair
maiden there..."
Hannah was in the woods too and walking toward them. Je'ne looked at her, "
Are you in this together then?"
"Are you?" Peter asked Je'ne.
"What?" Je'ne looked at the knife he held up high, Peter's knife.
"Think about it, boy, one last chance to be a Viking and to take the girl...
though she not be fair as fair but dark. Anyway what say you? Be the man who
slew Peter Pan or..."
Peter dropped his sword and bare his breast toward Je'ne. Je'ne looked at
the nipple closest to him, hard and pert, yet enticing.
Graham taunted some more. I was worried. As it turned out, Peter was not.
Graham went on, "Take the heart of Peter Pan out and win the heart of the
bucksome turtle girl, have her in ways boys cannot understand..."
I spoke up. "We can understand it."
"You shall soon be dead!" Graham yelled back.
"Bring it on!" I yelled.
Peter looked at Je'ne and shut his eyes, ready to feel the blow. "Come, my
Lost Boy, you must do as Graham says and decide..."
"But...Peter," Je'ne said, "I already have. I took this knife to join in
the fight but not against you...on your side...my own weapons are in the tent...
which is surrounded. I chose to stay a boy and not grow up...the wonders of Peter
even as my ...just my friend are beyond comparison to anything the adult world
can give me..." He turned to Hannah, "And Hannah, I'm sorry." She was
there, closer to him, suddenly.
But she slowly, ever so slowly, backed off. "I am too, I was not in this
with them. I just used it to try to find love. To try to become human and
whole." As she spoke, she kept moving further and further way. "A warrior you
are but not my warrior...I am sorry, too. I never meant to hurt you. I thought
we could have had something. I see that is not so." She turned into a turtle
and could not be seen as she crawled through the woods.
"Hannah," Jene said, "Hannah..."
"Sorry already my little boy?" Graham yelled, "Little, little, little!
Little boy! Made the wrong choice!"
"I don't think so!" Je'ne threw the knife and it sailed at Graham's face.
He put his arm up and the knife was stopped as it went into the wooden upper
arm of Graham. "I can live with my choice! Can you? Why do you need me to be
with you so bad!"
"You insolent...you shall die!"
Je'ne smiled. He felt happy.
Graham had two more knives out, ready to throw at Je'ne. "First blood will
be mine! That little lost boy who indeed has just lost the love of his life!
"
"ENOUGH!" Peter yelled loud enough to scare everyone, including me. "I
grow bored with this game already!" He pointed his sword straight at the face
of Malice, "It is you who shall die..."
"Me? Oh me, why me?"
"Cringing whore," Peter snapped, startling me and Je'ne. "YOU shall die
and YOU..." He pointed it at Talon now.
Talon gulped, "Oh must I?"
"You coward, buck up! You're Vikings!"
"You heard what he did to Hook's men and Hook himself..." Malice shouted, "
I don't wanna end up that way..."
"Yeah," Talon gulped, "And we messed with that turtle girl...and we heard
what he did to the seven armies of seven brothers...killed almost all of them..."
"Actually it was all of them!" Peter turned to more Vikings, "And it will
be all of you! Every one! You will die, slow or fast, quick jabs to vitals
or slow torture to same, it is thee who shall squirm in the dirt or on thy
backs this Hallowed Past Night..."
"No!" Many Vikings called out, "No!"
Some asked for mercy. Peter shook his head, "I shall give it, IF you leave
here and never..."
Graham moved to one man, who was dropping his sword and he used his axe to
chop the man's belly apart. The man screamed and gurgled and Peter smiled at
the other Vikings. The Viking fell, dead, soon enough. Graham yelled, "YOU ARE
VIKINGS OF THE HIGHEST ORDER...MY ORDER..."
"We served under Acun but you allowed him to die AND...you also turned him
into an undead thing!"
That Viking found a knife in his belly, thrown by Graham. This Viking fell
dead. Peter looked, "Your own leader, slays you dead...he shows no mercy. But
I shall..."
"Shut up, little boy!" Graham moved closer. Peter waited, smiling as
though he already won. I hid behind him. Graham was at his worst now. Je'ne moved
to the other side of Peter's back, also afraid of Graham. "Men, listen to
me. You ARE men. He is a little boy. The three of them here are. And Peter Pan
did not kill everyone of those army men. He had help. Sneaky help by his Lost
Boys. And of those, three were slain! We all heard the story. He allowed
three of his Lost Boys to be slain."
Peter controlled his anger. His lower lip quivered, and he picked up his
sword quickly and knocked away a knife that was thrown. That knife headed
straight for Je'ne's nose. Peter pointed his sword again, "They died because
they were loyal to me. Can you say the same about yourself Graham? Does
anyone want to die for you? Anyone want to serve you? Be loyal to you?"
"But still, your Lost Boys are no where to be seen. Running for their very
lives. More cowardly than my men even. Men can be cowardly but if they are,
they are still less cowardly than the younger ones, who are not men yet."
"You seem to talk logic," Peter argued, "But being young has no logic...
and being old, like you, has death...my boys will stay loyal to me..." Peter put
his arm around the dark Je'ne's shoulder and brought him forward and pressed
his own body to Je'ne's back, "...NO matter what tempts them."
Je'ne looked exposed. Graham fumed. He took out another knife but Peter
tossed one this time and it hit Graham's shoulder. "That was a warning. I am
merciful, Viking Men. Leave now...and I will let you all live..."
"If we all rush him!" Graham yelled, "NOW!"
Soko looked, and held his sword, "We can do it! Go on my word, men,
together, then. GO!"
The Vikings seemed about to rally themselves and some moved forward into a
run. Bar Malice and Talon, they hung back.
"NOW!" Peter put fingers to his mouth and whistled. I could never do that.
I don't know how. I `ve tried and even as I watched this marvel of loyalty
demonstrated, I tried to do the same. No longer really worried. Peter, for
you see, had already triumphed and this time, without killing a single soul.
Yet.
Suddenly, Native Americans rose from the bushes. Along with Aoi, who had two
long mud covered swords. Peter winked at him, then turned to another area.
Behind Sole, who had a dirt covered spear and who rose up from behind a tree,
were two black bears, claws ready. Nikko, Wendy's wolf came into the area,
fangs bared. Landen came out the black berry bushes with his face smeared with
blackberry. Jennie and Bo were with him. There were trolls with them and
even these three Lost Boys held knives up to show they were willing to fight.
Rollin emerged from a bush with a very handsome and lean and tall Elf. He
looked almost like a Legolas from an alternate universe. Rollin had been up to
something with him but now as he emerged, he held a trident in one hand and a
long knife in the other. Elves, two tribes of Natives, and fairies were all
around the Vikings. Even the Croc was there, finishing a Berserker desert
between its teeth.
The Vikings all stopped now.
Aoi nodded to Peter, "The Berserker Zombies are all...in pieces, Peter. They
won't be moving again. Witch magic or no witch magic. There are no more."
Winking at him, Peter turned to the Vikings. Peter looked at the New
Vikings. "If you stay, you die. If not now, I will kill you eventually. If you leave
Neverland and Never Ever Ever Never come back here, I will let you keep your
lives..." He pointed the sword at all of them, circling it around the area
to encompass them all.
Talon and Malice led the run. The Vikings all abandoned Graham. Peter
pointed to Graham's face and moved in on him, "I may let you afford the same mercy
or something that I have your men. Leave now..."
Waldren flew from the sky and Graham smiled for a moment. The sight of it
made him think there was some hope against Pan now. Waldren landed on Chase's
shoulder, making Graham call to it but it ignored him, and this made him
angry and sad. "Even your own falcon is against you," I added, "Leave now so
there has to be no death...yours..."
Graham backed away, "So as you say...." He turned and ran.
"Peter," I said, "We're forgetting something..."
"The children of the Valkeryies and the Valkeryies themselves..." Je'ne
gasped.
"No, I haven't forgotten, this time. YOU may have, Chase..."
Now it was I fuming in anger...I let it go, quickly, remembering what Peter
and I were doing before Graham's sneak attack.
"We'll free them both." Peter said and thrust his chest out.
I went to Je'ne, "Are you sure?"
"Yes. The love of my life...can't be a girl..."
"I understand..."
In a castle, Elise, already looking older than when Peter and I last saw
her, moved to a stone room. Inside it, a lavish, purple and lavender room was
made up. There were drapes, a large canopy bed, and wooden furniture, which
shone. "Need anything?"
"No," Scen said, "Your men are so loyal and your girls, too."
"Like any of them?"
"You should know better." Scen smiled, and undid his long golden hair,
which had been tied up.
"Indeed she should," the black haired Rober came out of the bathroom. "I
love that you have plumbing. Who would have thought, plumbing in Never Never
land!" He had no shirt on, same as Scen. They hugged.
Elise smiled, "Well, then I'll leave to it." All of them had grown at
least two inches since Peter and I met them. "So do you think you'll stay this
time?"
"We're thinking bout it," Rober said, "We really are."
"So much had gone on," Scen said.
"Well, goodnight," Elise smiled, "You know I don't want to influence you
one way or the other but you're always welcome here."
"Thanks," Scen smiled.
"We know that," Rober nodded.
"Goodnight," Elise said.
After Elise left, and closed the wooden door, Scen climbed into bed with
Rober, who already hemmed himself in. They were both naked. Scen looked at Rober
and kissed his mouth. "Oh dear, I forgot..."
"What?"
"To send Bailey a message...he wanted to know when we got down and safe to
Neverland."
"You'd better or he'll worry..." Rober said, "He's become quite the
father figure..."
Scen stood up, "He's younger than both of us..."
"I know that..." Rober laughed.
Scen left the room and walked, barefooted, across stone floor cobbles. He
went to another staircase and walked up it to the top of the tower. He opened
another door and inside the birds were gone. "What?" He went to the window.
A dead guard slumped from behind the door. His face was bitten off. Scen
heard the slump and turned to see the dead man fall. From the dark of the room's
cabinet and closet came two shuffling figures. Dead zombies that he
recognized from his Viking days. "Berserkers in life, berserkers in death." He
moved back to the window and looked out and down. He moved back to the
window and looked out and down. A Berserker was below the window sill, climbing,
clinging to the stone, on the outside, yet using its feet to hold on to a
rigid stone and using both hands now to reach up for him!
TBC