“We’re home Lost Boys!” cried Peter as we descended down the dark wooden staircase.
“Wendy! Peter!” Michael ran to us and hugged us. “Guess what? One of the lost boys told me that one time he was almost eaten by a bear!” he exclaimed.
“Oh wow that’s scary!” I said, tousling his hair gently and smiling. “Sounds like you boys had fun while we were gone!”
“Yea! I’m gonna be an Indian when I grow up! Aoowaahhhhhyayayaya!” Michael ran around the room with two fingers behind his head with one hand and his other hand patting his mouth. The rest of the boys joined in with him, mimicking him.
“Alright that’s enough boys! I’m gonna go hunt a meal down for dinner! I’ll be back soon and when I do I’ll tell you all about it!” Peter shouted.
“Get a Humbalick, those taste the best in the world and they’re the most fun to catch!” One of the lost boys said, I didn’t know which.
“Oh yea!” Peter exclaimed. His eyes lit up and he sprinted out of the room.
“But what’s a . . .” I shouted after him, but I was too late. I shook my head and forgot about it. I guess I was going to find out. This land was so strange. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it, but I guess I had forever right? I frowned as I thought about that. It reminded me of the conversation I had had with Peter in the fairies’ land, and I didn’t want to think about that at the moment.
“Wendy? Will you tell us a story? John and Michael told us that you tell the best stories in the world!” a small boy, no older than 6 years old, tugged on my nightgown as he asked this.
I looked at my two younger brothers and rolled my eyes. “Yes. I’ll tell you a story, but all you boys have to sit down and be quiet alright?”
The boys all immediately sat down where they were standing and looked at me with wide eyes. The room went silent.
I decided to tell them the story about Cinderella. I concentrated and got into the right kind of mood that I reserved for story telling. The mood made the stories come to life.
“Once apon a time . . .”
“. . . The clock struck midnight and Cinderella ran, leaving a glass slipper . . .” I recited.
“Wendy. I need to talk to you.” I jumped when I heard Peter’s voice behind me.
I turned around to face him. He had a frown on his face and his eyes were tight. “What’s wrong?” I asked, startled.
“Something’s not right. Come with me. Now.” He said with a serious tone.
“Um . . . Okay?” I said with a confused expression as Peter grabbed my hand and pulled me up the staircase and into the forest night.
We ran through the forest, though it was so dark I wondered how we weren’t running into the strange trees. We sprinted blindly for about 5 minutes with Peter dragging me behind him but then I started to get tired.
“Wait!” I stopped, crouched down, and put my hands on my knees, breathing heavily. “What. Is. Going. On?”
Peter glared at me in the moonlight. “We’re in trouble. There’s a Wangdoodle after you. He wants you as a slave.”
“What? What’s a Wangdoodle? A slave for what? Peter! What’s going on?! I’m scared!” I said, my words tripping over one another.
Peter rolled his eyes as if this was the most simple concept in the world. “We have to get you to safety Wendy! We have to go now! He’ll use you as a slave to tell him stories and somehow turn them against everything in Never Land! He’s always trying to take over Never Land, and you’re the key to his next master plan. While I was out hunting for the Humbalick I over-heard some of his other servants talking . . . Ugh we need to go now!” He grabbed my arm roughly and started running with me again. The look he gave me was so black that I didn’t argue farther.
We sprinted through more black trees until finally we reached a beautiful pool, clear as glass.
The pool was beautiful. It was completely smooth and the moon and stars reflected on the surface.
Suddenly, I was my head was in a daze and I started walking towards the black water.
“That’s right. Go to the water.” Peter crooned behind me, but I wasn’t listening. I was fixated with the reflection of the red moon at the far side of the pool.
My feet approached the edge of the water and I started into the pool. The water was warm and compelled me even more.
I descended down, the water getting higher up my body with each step I took, then I felt a hand grab my ankle but the only thing that mattered to me at the moment was the red moon.
I kept on walking towards my destination and another hand grabbed my other ankle. The hands were moving with my feet, keeping a tight grip on them, and then when the water got to my neck the hands pulled me under.
I screamed and closed my eyes, startled. I was surprised when I found that I was able to breathe, even under the water.
I opened my eyes and was yet again surprised that I was also able to see perfectly.
Something slimy was tied around my wrists and ankles. I looked down to see what it was and it looked like some sort of sea weed like in my own world, but just a little different.
The sea weed like rope was super strong and extremely long. I struggled against it but realized that I couldn’t move.
I looked at my surroundings and saw nothing but millions and millions of the sea weed like things.
I wondered how I got down here, for my head was now crystal clear, and then I remembered everything.
Peter.
Oh no. I remembered something I had passed off as my imagination. That distinct symbol, the one that I thought I would never have any need for.
The shape shifters.
I remembered seeing that mark on the bottom of one of Peter’s feet when we were running. At first I had thought it was just a scar of some sort but now that I thought about it, I now realized that it was the exact same symbol that Peter had drawn in the ground this morning.
No.
Did this mean Peter was a shape shifter? Or did it just mean that there was a shape shifter who had molded himself to look like Peter?
I remembered the black expression on Peter’s face just before he had taken me to this place, then I remembered the look on his face after I’d kissed him. I compared the two memories in my head side by side. They looked nothing alike.
The Peter who had trapped me here was surely a shape shifter. That made me feel better. All I wanted was for the boys and Peter to be safe, and nothing else mattered.
Then everything went black. . .
