The Next Adventure (2003 Peter Pan fanfiction)

The Next Adventure (A Panfiction)

THE NEXT ADVENTURE: PROLOGUE AND CHAPTERS 1--8

A sudden release of light filled the dark chamber. In came a figure holding a bowl of watered down gruel, making their way to the what seemed to be a sleeping boy. The boy was not asleep. The figure discovered this right before placing the dish down. Their wrist now captivated by the boy’s hand. The figure in deep fear, both one another’s eyes met. The boy’s wide enough to scare anyone were not even the slightest bit of green but a deep melancholy brown watering and bloodshot from the endless torture to not only his body but his mind. Not only has he lost his strength but part of his mind.

The figure now struggling to release them self, they groaned, mumbling faint commands. The boy’s lips then parted, him still gripping the figure. “Don-don’t," the boy started, “don’t leave m-me, save me." The figure in deep hesitation, contemplating. “I ca-can save yo-you from th-this," the boy pushed out. The figure now starting to rip from the cuff-like chafing of the boy’s hand. Though, the boy’s grip stubborn, but weakening. A surge of pain shot through the boy’s rib cage. He then wrapped his free arm around himself as if that would subdue the feeling. And it actually did, just enough for the boy to keep holding the figure’s wrist.

It would come to ones surprise if they were to see the condition the boy was in and had been in for quite a time for him to be strong enough to do such a thing. His appearance was gaunt. His was hair ratted and his scalp was covered in dried up blood. The boy was often struck upon the head, along with several beatings to the body, causing the skin to take on a pallid complexion. Because the boy’s body was being treated the way it wasn’t meant, the muscle was gone. Bruises and cuts rode from head to toe. He looked nearly dead. His lip’s had lost color from the lack of nutrition. He was only fed once a day, the same thing everyday. Weak, the boy was. Beaten, the boy was. When in standing, walking, or using his ankles, they wobbled and cramped so the boy did little of those things.

Still not used to the pain, he continued to clutch his ribs and grip the figure’s wrist. The figure was as relentless and resistant to the boy as he had been, only now, cursing for their freedom. But they were ignored. The figure then discovered they had been clutching a bowl of gruel and was close to using it when the boy knocked it from their hand. In a terror, the figure began to shake lightly. The boy still trying to persuade, or trick the figure, he hissed the finishing of his sentence. “I can sa-save you and make you Captain! I was once Peter Pan!" He had rushed it out, sending instant chills up the figure’s hairy arms. The figure was then not convinced, yet.
        "You can’t do anything!" The figure spat. The boy instantly reacted and lifted a finger, shaking it.
        "Dare you challenge me?"
        "Prove it!"
        "If you say so, but I cannot prove a thing unless you part me from these chains." Peter Pan’s ankle had been cuffed.
        "Fine," the figure beginning to search his waist, soon discovering he wasn’t the owner of the keys, but the Captain was. “I’ll be back, the keys arn’t in my possession." Peter Pan then nodded slowly, releasing the man’s wrist. He began to rub it as he walked back out of the chamber, closing the door. Peter Pan then stared at the spilled gruel, smiling to himself, then laughing.
        "Stupid Pirates." Once hearing himself say these words, he urged more words, liking the sound his voice had made. “They don’t know a thing."

Still staring, Peter Pan thought more, still in smiling. But soon reality came to mind. If the pirates the Captain had picked as his new crew, who was Peter to be by saying they were stupid when they had held him, captivated this long. No man could’ve never held him this long before, but here the Captain was, doing just the opposite. In ways, this troubled Peter’s poor old soul. Of coarse, many things had, but now, Peter felt suddenly intimidated. And Peter Pan wasn’t the one to handle that too well.

Just then, Peter heard the door, his eye’s shot up. There appeared the man who had just left moments ago. Peter then forgot about what he was just scanning over with his mind and smiled. The man drew close to Peter, and dangling from the man’s chubby hand were a bright pair of keys. “The old Cap was sleepin’, sleepin’ like a baby if I do say so myself." 
        "Perrrrfect," Peter purred quietly. The man now within a few inches. Peter adjusted his ankle for the man, nearly impatient and eager but refused to show it. As the man fumbled with the keys, he found the right one, mentally approving, nodding. He then leaned down, his attention upon the lock. Peter smiling wildly and nodding endlessly, a sudden click came within the presence of not only the man’s ears, but Peter’s as well. The cuff opened and this was the moment.

Peter instantly shot up and ran behind the man, laughing in trickery. The man quickly turned around. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing!" And the man came at him though Peter escaped a future struggle to get free from the man’s arms, causing the man to fall. “And I let you fool me!" Peter laughing in pure ecstasy this time.
        "Ah! And isn’t it sweet! Oh the cleverness of me!" With that, he ran out.

Momentarily, the man escaped the chamber himself and called out to other crew members. Each and every pirate started after Peter as he ran. Panting and speeding, Peter ignored the pain within his ankles. He then made it onto the deck and more pirates were behind him. But Peter was far in front of them, his heart on fire and his hope lifting. And to the edge of the boat he went for. Though, before reaching Peter’s first touch on land since he was kidnapped, his arms were pulled back, causing him to halt. Peter struggled to break free, he couldn’t. He was then kicked in the back of his legs and fell onto his knees in weakness. Screaming, pleading, begging, burning tears came to his eyes.

The Captain then came. Locking eyes with Peter, he met those familiar ice blues that had haunted him so in his dream’s. An instant apprehension and fear came upon Peter, he knew he was in trouble now. He knew Hook’s intentions now. That’s right, Hook’s intentions. Hook had come back, Hook was in charge of it all. Hook had been in charge. Never did Peter think he’d be so scared of Hook when he was once free, but here he was.

Hook then kicked Peter in the chest—his arms released then—causing his back to bend in an unnatural way. Peter yelped in agony at the sudden cramping in his neck, back, and spine. Though the feeling was numbed in his neck when Hook grabbed it with his left hand, beginning to squeeze it. Peter then grabbed Hook’s wrist to try and fight back but he was too weak and let go. Though Hook would not give in, he would not give Peter the chance to breath.

Peter’s eyes glazed over just then, growing terribly light-headed, and right before he almost passed out, Hook released him. Peter’s brain instantly reacted and he gasped loudly for air. A huge relief came upon him, and he was almost convinced Hook was gong to let him go. “Take him back to the chamber, NOW!" Hook yelled. The pirates then lifted Peter by the arms, ignoring his protest. 
        "No, please, NO!" He remained being dragged. Hook and the others behind him. Peter felt as his heals began to cut against the splintery wood. Blood began to leave a trail. The pain of the cutting was terribly painful though Peter tryed his most hardest to ignore it, but it was too much for him, especially after running so hard and he started to cry out in all his pain combined. “NOOOO!!!! PLLLEASSSEEE STTTOPPP!" Peter yelled, leaving zero impact on anyone around him. And before disappearing back under deck, Peter screamed a name.

"TINNNNNKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" And he screamed like she was there, and she certainly was, watching from a distance, invisible to Peter’s and the Pirates’ naked eyes. She often visited him secretly in the chamber, to examine the state he was in. Though she was there not to save him, yet, but to find answers, and answers she found. And now, after what she had just seen, little time was all she had left to begin her plan.

____________________________________________________________________________

You see, no one, no one but Tink is willing to save Peter. Because, well, the others, they are either being led by a few of Hook’s pirates or staying in secret camps with one another to keep from being led by Hook’s pirates. Even the mermaids are in hiding. Though what Tink has created over the past four monthes, since Peter’s been captured, she’s fished out a new group of lost boys. But that’s not enough, the lost boys even know that. So what Tink has planned has to do with Wendy.

And with that simple fact, the story begins here.