The Immortal Boy

Chapter 1

A young girl stirred in her sleep, bringing in close the covers surrounding her petite body, protecting her from the strangeness, and oddities of the cool, still, dark night. A rustling outside the frosty window was the reason she woke, thinking it was just a harmless owl of some sort; the girl turned over and in her drowsiness returned to the land of the twirling tales of dreams. As the young girl slumbered on a light shone bright outside the window, which is astounding as she was sleeping on the 32nd floor of a cheaply priced apartment block; then, the window latch clicked and was slowly and carefully drawn. The wistful gusts of ice billowed into the young girl’s room, snowflakes melting as they touch the warm cheeks of the unsuspecting girl lying in bed.

A shadow appeared in the window and crept carefully through the girl’s room to the door. Unlike most boys who should, respectfully open the door, the boy slid gracefully through the wood and into the hall beyond. In the parlour the girl’s Grandmother was sharing a glass or two with a close acquaintance. This man was the shifty James Hook, like Nanna, was sour faced and harsh. He had black hair that curled into greasy locks, he wore a cape-like coat, a brilliant shade of black and had a slim moustache. The boy slid down the hall and stopped just outside the entrance to the parlour. From there he could hear the voices beyond.

“What should we do with it?” Nanna’s whisper echoed with fear, dread yet had a hint of delight.

“I know a man who practices dark alchemy, and specializes in shadows.” Hook whispered to Nanna. Suddenly his crouched body shot up and faced the fire, eyes filing through the back of his head, watching the entrance. “But why not ask the owner himself, seeing as he is here with us.” A nasty smile spread across his face as he heard the boy’s sharp intake of breath as he was eaves-dropping just one wall away. 

Nanna stood up in shock that her plans had been overheard. Her hand flew to her pocket which was holding a slicked silver blade.

“Peter, how rude! Why don’t you come in here and join us in this talk of pleasantries.” Hook’s horrid grin grew larger and turned his face into a foul creation. Peter slowly made his way into the room and saw Nanna fumbling with an elaborately engraved box that was hidden behind her dress, his eyes narrowed and his faerie eye opened and he saw the strands of blue and gold seeping from the ornate, black box, contrasting to the rest of the world around it. It’s only dark companion was James Hook, who was as black as the soot in the chimney, as black as the hat upon a witch, as black as evil can be. Nanna was a figure who had no colour, she  hid her secrets from everyone, she kept so many secrets that those hidden secrets spread to lies and the secrets and lies had enveloped her and even she started forgetting the truth, in fact she had forgotten her own name and just referred to herself as Nanna. Peter’s faeries eye moved to Hook. Peter could see him slipping his right hand into his belt strap which concealed a sharp blade that was blackened from the rust of thousands of peoples blood inked it’s surface. Peter’s faeries eye closed and the world returned to normal speed. Hook had his knife out in an instant, but Peter responded just as quickly his hands magically formed a sword out of thin air. Hook seeing this lunged forward slicing Peter’s forearm. Crimson blood poured down his arm, and dripped onto the rug. Peter gasped, and clutched his wound, turning his fingers red, tears poured down his cheeks, then seizing determination he slashed Hook back. Hook replied just as ferociously, swords slicing the dense air. Nanna shrunk back into the shadows, hiding in the cranny between the fireplace and the bookshelf. The epic dual went for what seemed like hours. Finally, Hook had Peter cornered, the tip of his knife at Peter’s throat. Peter stilled, not daring to move. A smirk played at the corners of Hook’s mouth seeing Peter’s fear. He slicked his knife across the base of Peter’s throat inflicting a moderately deep cut. Hook removed the knife to wipe away the blood onto Peter’s shoulder. Seizing the opportunity Peter lashed out, his sword catching on Hook’s right hand and slicing it off. Hook fell to the ground, screaming in agony. With no mercy or remorse for Hook, Peter hacked Hook’s face into furious red lines, oozing with blood. Hook screamed some more, his whole body writhing with searing pain. Peter, letting his opponent suffer, left him to die and turned towards Nanna, but she had vanished, with the box. Peter whispered an insult under his breath, pocketed Hook’s right hand and flew out the window and into the cold, dark night.