Once Upon a FairyTale

Chapter One: Maxwell

Written by: me

I walked down the cobblestone streets. People passed, talking amongst themselves. They occasionally shot me reproachful glances. I sneered at them all.

My pale skin, raven hair, and mean demeanor caused them to instantly look down at me. It didn't help that everyone in this town listened to classical music, while I listened to actual good music. AC/DC, Nirvana, Fall Out Boy, etc. Devil music, they called it.

They would never say anything against me. That's alright, I prefer to live in solitude. I have one friend, and he's more of a nuisance. We met by chance, five years ago. Since then, we've sort of stuck together. We're similar in many ways.

"Maxie!" a male voice ran up behind me.

I rolled my eyes, "My name is Maxwell, Peter."

"Not to me," he sprouted his usual cocky grin, "Maxie."

I groaned. Peter was a tall boy, about two inches taller than myself. His hair was copper red, and always unruly. He never did brush it. His childlike eyes were hazel and always filled with fun. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat as we walked.

"It's my birthday today," he smiled.

"How old are you now?"

He shrugged, "I lost count at about three hundred."

I sighed. Peter Pan, known for his childlike whimsic, is not all the stories tell him to be. He doesn't lead children out to Neverland, he leads them to his home, where he uses parts of them as ingredients in his potions. The stories say he never grows up, but they never say why. They never say that Peter's one of the most powerful warlocks in the world.

Peter followed me as I stalked down the streets. It was cold out, which may be why he was wearing a coat. I didn't get cold. Comes with being me.

"Where are we going, Maxie?" Peter asked.

I sighed, "I need new journals, my others are falling apart."

"I thought you only needed the one journal."

"Technically, yes," I shrugged, "But, I also need other journals for other things, which is none of your business."

Peter laughed, "Maxie, we've been partners for five years, you're going to have to start trusting me at some point."

I didn't reply, simply stalked on. The store wasn't to terribly much further. Eventually, we entered the bookstore. It smelled of old leather and lemon pledge.

Peter was left at the door as I went to the journal shelf. There were journals of all colors. I focused on the leather bound ones. Some had magical crests on them, forbidding any evil doers to read what's inside. I skipped over those and grabbed one with a golden clasp.

"Back again?" a female voice asked behind me, "You go through journals like normal humans go through water."

I spun around to face the woman. She had mousy brown hair and a kind gaze. Her blue dress was covered with a white apron.

"Well, Miss Beast, journals happen to be my source of power."

She sneered, "For the last time, call me Belle, not Miss Beast."

"Okay, whatever you say, Beasty Belle."

Belle looked like she was ready to smack me. I simply shrugged and took my journal to the cash register. A very bored looking teen rang it up for me. Once I was done, I returned to Peter. He smiled at me.

"Come on," I sighed, "The Beast has risen."

Peter laughed as I pushed past. I could almost feel him stick his tongue out at Belle. This is is why the entire town had labeled us as troublemakers. They only knew the surface, we liked to cause trouble. They didn't know our stories, they didn't know who we were. Yet, they jumped to conclude that Peter and I were the villains.

Were they right?

I'm not sure yet.

"What do we do now?" Peter asked, falling into step with me.

I shrugged. Peter began to ramble.

"We could go get some apples and torment White, or we could throw peas at Princess Sensitive. There's always burning bags of leaves on Pocahontas's lawn, or hanging tea cups from Alice's rose bushes."

"We've done all of those before, it's not as entertaining if we've already done it."

Peter shrugged, "I suppose you're right. Oh, I got it! We could go kidnap Wendy!"

"Peter, you can't get a girl to love you by kidnapping her constantly."

Peter frowned. It was well known of Peter's love for Wendy. And, by well known, I mean I know about it. To everyone else, Peter just kidnaps her to get attention from her father, Captain James Hook. They're enemies afterall.

"We could draw mustaches on ole' Sleepy Head."

I rolled my eyes, "Last time we tried, the dragon burned my hair off by three inches."

"We've done everything there is to do in this damned town!" Peter exclaimed, "We need someone new to torment."

I chuckled, "What we need is a new companion. If we can get someone to join us, we can finally complete the lucky number of three. Then, we'd really have fun."

Peter grinned devilishly, "To true, my friend. But, there's no way someone will come here anytime soon. This place is a ghost town to outsiders."

"Sadly."

We both stalked on down the road. Our minds were elsewhere, but our feet took us where we needed to go. We ended up back at the house.

It was a simple house made of wood. It was old, and the entire town thought it abandoned. No one dared to go near it. Maybe because it's rumored to house a powerful witch and warlock.

"Home sweet home," Peter pouted.