Twisted Little Lost Boy

So this is a twisted version of Peter Pan that I wrote for a friend a while ago. A small warning though, it is brimming with blood and gore. ENJOY!!

It was the dead of night when I heard it

 

The clouds were covering the moon with their bodies, making it impossible to see out the window and through the gloom. The heavy darkness weighed down on the flickering oil lamps, which sputtered and struggled to stay lit as the night loomed closer and closer. A harsh wind whipped through the leaves of the trees, taking them and thrusting them high into the air to fall to their deaths. The branches rattled against our bedroom window, tapping incessantly to be let in from the harsh night.

 

Then I heard it.

 

At first I mistook it for the sounds that seeped in through the old glass window, but then I realized that it was something else.

 

A low dark chuckle circled the room, ebbing and fading like the dark tides of the ocean.

 

I sat straight up in my bed, my eyes scouring for the source of the sound before they stopped in the corner. My heart stomped frantically on my ribcage like a startled rabbit as the thing that was producing the noise stopped and looked at me. All I could see was a pair of watery yellow eyes, hanging like raindrops about two feet off the floor. My hands scoured the bedside table to find the matches, my eyes unwilling to move from where they were situated. I finally found them and struck one before there was a sputter and a flash of light, and I could see.

 

Hunched in the corner, was a small boy.

 

His eyes held me still as he flashed me a crooked smile. His gums were swollen and purple and the few teeth he had left were black as soot and riddled with holes. His hair was unkempt and draped down past his shoulders in greasy clusters, and his skin was flecked with grime and dirt. The clothing that he wore was composed of mismatched pieces of fur, carelessly stitched together and carrying the stains from the animal that bore it.

 

The boy chuckled again, holding out his hands to let me see what was in them. Dripping between his fingers were strips and globs of transparent charcoal, hanging in tatters from his broken fingernails.

 

I yelped at the match burned down to my fingers, scorching my skin with anger. I dropped it quickly and stifled the light before quickly retrieving another and striking it. The boys eyes failed to waver from me. I looked down at him, unsure of what to do.

 

The boy grinned and gestured at me. “Shadow was being bad. I had to get rid of him.” His voice was hoarse, as if a frog had crawled down his throat and committed suicide there.

 

“What do you mean?” I stammered.

 

The boy stood and quickly crossed the room. His movements were quick and jerky, like an aggressive bird before he came to perch at the end of my bed. He dropped what he was holding onto my lap and it began to writhe like a pile of angry worms.

 

“Shadow was being bad. I had to get rid of him.” The boy repeated.

 

Then I squealed as one of the black tendrils wrapped around my forearm, faster than a striking snake. Terror seized my heart as the thing coiled around me, latching to my skin like a hungry leech. It twisted tighter and tighter, sending flares of pain up my arm and into my brain. I yelled and leapt from my bed, tearing the sheets from my legs as the tendril wound ever tighter. The boy didn’t move, his eyes locked on me as I struggled.

 

Without even thinking I held the match in my hand to it, and it instantly released and dropped to the ground. I stomped on it with my bare feet, chasing it back into the darkness where it belonged. My forearm was burning terribly and I looked down to see that whatever it was had left angry red marks upon my skin everywhere it had touched me.

 

“Wendy?” A voice said groggily behind me, “What is going on?”

 

The boy perked up and I turned to look at the person that had spoken. My eyes focused on the small boy that had been sleeping in the bed across from mine, as he yawned and rubbed his eyes sleeping. His eyes swept over the boy that was perched on my bed groggily, before he realized what he was seeing and sat upright in his bed.

 

“Wendy who is that?” He asked, pulling his sheets up to his chin. “Make him get out!”

 

“I am handling this,” I said, completely unsure of what I was supposed to do next.

 

I turned back to the boy and his eyes had locked on Michael. They flashed hungrily, and I stood between him and my brother.

 

“You are going to have to leave now,” I said sternly, trying to ignore the searing pain in my arm.

 

“Yes, we shall go now.” The boy said licking his lips absently. “All of us. Off to Neverland.”

 

“No,” I said slowly, “We are going to stay here, you are going to leave us alone. If you don’t leave this instant I will call for our nanny.”

 

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled something out before leaping off the bed towards me. I tried to evade him, but he moved impossibly fast before blowing something off of his palm and into my face.

 

I was instantly hit with a wave of nausea and the world spun around me like a top. I felt my body pitch sideways and I hit the floor, the impact reverberating dully in my skull. The boy crouched over me, pinching me to make sure that I couldn’t move and snickering.

 

“What have you done to my sister?!” Michael roared, leaping from the bed. There was a cough and a choking sound as the boy disappeared. Then something fell heavily to the ground behind me. I couldn’t move to see what had happened, but I knew the boy had dispatched of my brother the same way that he had gotten me.

 

I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to throw up as the boy chuckled behind me.

 

“Wakie wakie little boy,” he said before a scream erupted from the toddler that was in the bed next to Michael’s. A loud wail filled my ears and the boy appeared in front of me, holding my smallest brother in his arms. John struggled vainly, his tiny fists bouncing off of the boy as he screamed. I could hear through the floor that people were stirring downstairs and the boy quickly spattered his dust under John's nose. The little boy moaned and fell limp in his arms before he dropped him onto the floor.

 

I heard a sharp snap of breaking bones, but the little boy didn’t make a sound as he fell heavily to the ground. The boy leapt onto my bed and ripped off the sheet before looping it around my hands and pulling it painfully tight. He did the same to my two brothers before pulling us over to the window and throwing it open.

 

The cold wind whipped around the room, chilling us all instantly to the bone before the boy cackled and leapt from the windowsill into the night. My stomach lurched as the world moved spastically around us making my head swirl. I closed my eyes thinking that we were going to hit the ground and shatter, but the sheet pulled taught and lifted me into the air. My head lolled groggily on my neck, and I could do nothing but watch as the boy pulled us to a dizzying height.

 

Then the nausea overcame me and I passed out.

 

I awoke when we dropped suddenly, the movement jerking me roughly out of my drugged sleep. For a moment all I could see was black clouds in front of me before we dropped again. A scream escaped my lips as we passed though the air, and I could see where the boy was taking us.

 

Beneath us I could see a vast black ocean, speckled with sharp rocks jutting from the surface. Dead ahead of us was a large island, rutted with sheer drops on the edges. The island was raised in the middle as a mountain, which was slowly being consumed by the ravaging sea. It was matted with dense black forests which were scattered across the landscape and the entire place looked less than welcoming. The boy was dropping lower, purposely losing altitude and heading straight for the island.

 

I could hear sobbing below me and I looked down to see my two younger brothers dangling below me. Michael was still unconscious, hanging from his bonds like a rag doll. John was below him and from where I was I could see the bright stains of crimson that stained his nightgown. The boy caught sight of me and wailed loudly, his broken arm hanging uselessly next to his side.

 

The boy looked down and sneered at John, hissing something inaudible as we plummeted lower. The island raced towards us, ready to ensnare us before we dropped below the tree line. My sight was snatched from my eyes as sticks and branches lashed angrily at my face. I could do nothing to lessen the blows and they stung my like bees before I hit the ground sharply.

 

My head was still reeling and the boy hunched down to the ground. Slowly, his voice started to rise as if he were calling to the monsters of the forest. He yelled at the top of his lungs, a guttural animalistic sound before it fell silent.

 

The forest seemed to respond, gnashing its branches and twisted roots in anticipation before someone else stepped into the clearing. I turned my head, feeling blood run down my cheeks as I looked, and could see that it was a small boy, no older than my brothers. He moved like a rabbit, darting this way and that and sniffing the air. I watched in horror as more and more started to delve from the trees, appearing from the darkness as if they had been shadows themselves. They were all dressed in the same way that the boy that had taken us was, and they each carried rough looking handmade weapons.

 

They started to grunt in unison as they surrounded us, stomping the ground with their bare feet as they raised their voices to the sky. As it got louder I realized that they were each chanting a single word, bellowing it to the dark world that they had been brought to.

 

Pan.

 

I could still hear John sobbing and Michael stirred next to me, rustling leaves beneath his bound hands. The boys all suddenly stopped, their eyes locking on the three of us as we lay helplessly on the ground.

 

One of them came towards me, his head cocked to one side like a curious dog. He had a spear clutched in his left hand and before I could do anything he jabbed it into my arm and leapt back. I yelped as the sharpened rock of the spear bit into my arm, and blood leaked from the wound. All of the boys laughed hysterically, as if that was the funniest joke they had heard before Pan held up his hand.

 

“Wood,” He said, looking around at the boys.

 

They all cheered and darted back into the forest, dropping their weapons on the ground in their hurry. While they were gone, Pan circled us, a hungry leopard guarding his prey. The boys quickly started to return, their arms piled high with twisted branches. The forest roared angrily at the theft but the boys paid it no heed as they stacked the wood high. The pile of wood grew swiftly, fuelled by the segmented bodies of the trees before Pan held up his hand for the boys to stop.

 

Then, ever so slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out the box of matches that I had used in my room. He grinned wickedly at me, mimicking the motions that I had made before striking the match and tossing it onto the wood pile. I had thought that it would never light, but it sparked and quickly flamed, consuming the pile in a raging inferno.

 

The boys didn’t seem to know what the fire was, as they darted forwards to touch it before they leapt back howling in pain. Pan paid them no attention, as he pulled a small dagger out of his belt. His eyes hovered over each of us, the blade glistening in his hand before his gaze fell on John. I yelled and struggled as Pan walked slowly over to my brother and loosened the sheet that held him fast. The toddler could do nothing to resist as he was small and broken, and Pan hoisted him effortlessly off of the ground, his fingers closed tightly around the boys throat.

 

John choked and coughed, crying uncontrollably before Pan looked back over his shoulder at me, a wicked smile painted on his face. Then he turned back and buried the blade into my brothers belly. The boy screamed, bucking in his hands like a dying rabbit as Pan dragged the stone knife up to his ribcage. Blood splattered the ground wetly, the soil drinking it greedily as my brother spasmed in his killers hands. Then Pan turned on his heel, raising my brother high above his head before tossing him into the unfeeling flames.

 

His screams echoed far into the forest as the fire seared his tiny body, raking his skin with their fatal tongues. The group of boys dissolved into a frenzy, howling like animals and casting stones at the small twitching corpse as it burned.

 

Pan wiped his knife off on his shirt, his eyes flashing with the light from the fire as he jerked his head towards Michael and I. Tears burned tracks down the sides of my face from watching my brothers death, and Michael was yelling challenges at them as they danced around the flames. They swarmed us like wasps, jabbing at is with their weapons and jeering at the blood. The sheets around Michael's wrists fell away and he fought them as they leapt upon him, a pack of ravenous dogs. Their teeth closed down onto his flesh, tearing it off in chunks to be consumed. Michael screamed as they latched onto him, blood pouring from multiple wounds on his body.

 

He disappeared under a mass if writhing bodies, as they all fought for a piece of his flesh. Pan pushed his knife back into his belt and leapt into the pile, punching smaller boys out of his way to get to the bottom. I heard Michael screaming, drowning in his own blood and it rose an octave every second that they were on him. Pan pulled out of the pile, blood dripping from his chin before he walked over to me and sat down on the ground.

 

His hands and arms were covered with the blood of my brothers, and his fingers were closed around something that he had retrieved. He snickered and grabbed hold of my hands, leaving red smears on my skin before he dropped what he was holding into my palm. I looked at the small bloody orb, speckled with pieces of muscle before I realized that he had given me my brother’s eye.

 

I screamed, my voice matching my brothers as I tossed the blinded organ away from me. The blood stained my hands and tears poured down my face as Pan stood in front of me. His hands closed around my cheeks, impossibly gentle before he traced bloody lines down my chin.

 

He smiled softly, losing the intent of the gesture in crimson. He pulled me towards him, kissing me gently, and I tried to pull away. His lips locked over mine and he held me fast, deepening the kiss against my will. His breath was foul and his kiss tasted of iron and death and I finally managed to pull away gagging with disgust.

 

His left hand found my shoulder as his right traced lines through my hair. He looked at me absently, like I was a painting to admire before me chuckled.

 

“Wendy,” he croaked, his voice lost in the horrors of the dark. “My Wendy.”

 

Then I screamed as his teeth punched into my throat.

Author's Note

Please don't focus only on the grammar, I also like to hear about the flow of the story as well. :)

Reviews

[McKinleyA]

That was delightfully disturbing! I specifically liked how you built up to the horrific scene at the end. It made it all the more impactful.
"I watched in horror as more and more started to delve from the trees, appearing from the darkness as if they had been shadows themselves." Was my favorite line! Excellent read.

[Darkimmortal]

Thank you so much! I am glad that you enjoyed it.