The Old King ~OUAT Panfiction (Book 3)

The Darkness

            Attempting to desperately pull herself up, Anne's head was spinning, boots scraping the side of the cliff in need to find an etch she could use to haul herself up. Sawyer was laughing at her struggle, his hold loosening around her forearm. "Say, what would happen to me if I let go of you?" He interjected. "Since you're only a mere prisoner." That was when Anne realized what this was. He was dabbling for answers.

"He'll kill you," she replied, a hint of spite in her voice to mask her fear. "That much I can promise you!"

"Hmm, that's funny, 'cause it isn't like Pan can't go search for another lost girl," he prodded on. "What if I told him...you slipped?" At this, his hold broke, catching her wrist at the last second. This had Anne violently bewildered, tears brimming her eyes and kept locked with his. "That I tried to grab you but it was too late," he went on with a feign tenderness in his voice."

"He would torture you!" Anne exploded, relentless. It was her pride, but also the sickness she felt for this lost boy. He was threatening her life for answers -- this tended to be the most effective way of shaking someone for answers, but he was holding her over a cliff. His face was reddening, veins in his forehead bulging with struggle. He couldn't hold her for long, but was he the type to let go or pull her back up? There was a large difference, one ending in death and the other ending in mercy. Anne wanted to stay silent, but he got this far and by this point, he was taking it over the edge -- quite literally. 

"Go on, lost girl, tell me the truth about you and Pan, you know what this is about. I can see it in your eyes," he interrogated, a slight struggle in his voice.

Anne had paled, but now she felt cold. The frigid morning was reaching her, or more so returning to her when she first came to the island. It had to be the afternoon by now, but it certainly didn't feel like it. Was Pan in trouble? Was it Pan's emotions that made the air so cold?

"Alright, fine," Anne caved, her anxiety for not only Pan, but herself was mounting and had tore down her pride. "I'll tell you anything you want to know."

Her words roused a pleased grin on Sawyer's lips, before his eyes seemed to drift down into the abyss, eyes widening and the grin fell. His look of discouragement could only heighten Anne's apprehension. "It's here," he breathed. This caused Anne's veins to ice and slowly -- fearful of what she would see -- her cranium tilted downward. What she found caused her to nearly scream. It appeared to be thick, dark roots from various trees slithering from the abyss and spiraling toward her. "What the hell is that?!"

A nervous chuckle escaped Sawyer's lips. "It's him, Anne, it's the darkness and he wants you...bad."

Her head shot toward him, limbs wanting to immobilize. "Please!! Please, just let me up!! I'm begging you," she cried, "I swear I'll tell you everything, just--just please pull me up!" This time, tears were rushing from her eyes. She had never felt so vulnerable. She was grabbing at him, his clothes, boots scraping with abandon.

"Tell me now, Anne," Sawyer demanded. "He's getting closer!" Anne could hear the eerie hiss of the roots advancing up the walls of the cliff , and for a moment, she thought she could hear them whispering.

"It was -- it was," she found herself choking, she couldn't produce words. "It was l--" she couldn't emit the word 'love', and while this was bizarre, she was more so panicked than puzzled and couldn't take it anymore. She was becoming increasingly devastated and the whispers were growing clearer and clearer. They were saying her name. Eyes shot down again, the roots having thickened with more and were merely a couple feet from her ankle. Then, as if it was delayed until the right moment, Anne's adrenaline kicked in and with the heel of her hand, she busted Sawyer in the nose and the boy cried out. In an instant, he was on his back, holding his bloodied nose.