The Princess and The Piper

Chapter Four

"Let's Play!"

As soon as I heard his dreadful words, uneasiness rose in the pit of my stomach. I felt sick. There was something about his voice, the eerie familiarity.

Pushing my brain to remember caused frustration, and as hard as I tried, nothing ever came up. It was as if as soon as I crashed onto the sandy shoreline of this wretched island, my memories were enclosed in a cloud of thick fog.

My thoughts were soon interrupted by the tight grip of calloused hands on each of my wrists. I raised my head to witness my captor as he restrained my arms behind my back. His black inky figure being the last image my eyes could digest before the placement of a light brown, sandpaper-like bag over my head shielded my eyes with darkness.

Although I couldn’t see, I was aware of my being dragged through the forest. The faint hoot of an owl and chirp of squirrels sent me on high alert. The sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore was nowhere to be heard. The coarse rope itched as it hugged my wrists, making me feel like a prisoner who was granted the death sentence. I was vulnerable, being led through the forest blindly by a herd of teenage boys and their ignorant leader.

A sharp pain shot up my left calf as I unsuccessfully tried to muffle a shriek by pressing my lips shut. I felt the stinging sensation of my punctured bare foot as I feel to the ground, hissing at the collision. A quick breeze was sent my way as well as the touch of a flattened palm against my back as I sat on the frozen earth, blind as a mouse.

"What do you think you're doing?" an exclamation pounded against my ear drum, the dominant tone full of spite. The warm feeling disappeared when the hand was removed.

"Sorry, Pan, she just-" the fear-flooded voice stopped mid-sentence, leaving the only sounds to the imagination of the broad forest.

I slowly turned myself around on the ground, my ankle burning with pain and numbness.

I heard a scoff before a voice boomed, "Well, there's no point in this anymore."

The sack was removed from over my head, allowing my eyes to take in a complete picture of my surroundings, only spotting trees. Thousands of trees.

"It's not like you can run anywhere with a sprained ankle."

I glanced up at the source of the sound to see Peter Pan, a smirk spread across his chapped pink lips that lay mischievously underneath his perfect button nose. I struggled to raise my body but not to strike Peter Pan's nerves.

"Oh, come on," he complained while lifting my weight onto his shoulder with one arm, steadying my body as he wrapped his forearm around my thighs, my head bobbing against his sturdy back with each step.

Minutes passed and my head began to feel heavy as the blood rushed to flood it. My vision began to blur, smothering trees, bushes, and the beautiful starless night sky into a single shadow-filled grey blur. A breeze swept through my nightgown, causing it to flow upwards over my head. My cheeks flushed with pure embarrassment, and I wasn't sure if I was happy or not that the gown concealed my face from the whispers and snickers.

"Let me go," I coughed out, twisting my torso against my captors right shoulder.

"As you wish," was his response before I was sent tumbling to the dirt, feeling the wind fly beneath me as I fell, and eventually landed on my stomach, a crunching sound resulting from the collision.

"That's not what I meant," my enraged eyes glared up into his, my imagination running wild thinking of approaches of revenge. There was only one problem. Water was involved in at least ninety-nine percent of them and would be unsuccessful because I was stuck in the heart of a jungle.

I sat in the center of a grassless patch, torches surrounding the area on sticks. Peter Pan bent down to my level, waving his hand over my injured ankle as well as my rib cage. A green mist ejected out of his palm as the burning in my sprain and broken bones began to dissolve and slowly fade away.

Magic. He has magic, I thought, searching my mind for a reasonable explanation as to why.

After much squirming and struggle, I was able to lift my weight and stand on my feet, but Peter Pan made sure that whatever pride I had mustered quickly disappeared.

"Heads up," he spoke as he thrust a knife toward my face.

My insides churned and tugged, taking control of my movements. Before I could realize my reaction, the dagger was safely gripped tightly in my left hand, the point of the sharpened blade just centimeters away from the peak of my nose. My breaths were short and labored, as if that alone took nearly all of the energy from inside my body. I glanced up at the teenage boys, shock written across their filthy faces, yet Peter Pan was as calm as ever, his features expressing nothing but predictability.

"Good." His voice was still unruffled and tone flooded with expectation.

"What if I had missed?" I asked boldly while lowering the blade, anxious for his response.

He raised his left eyebrow at my immense level of courage before he answered, "It would have hurt." Peter Pan directed his attention toward the tall blonde, his scar raising my curiosity. "Felix," he called out. "Come and show _____ a lesson, will you," the demon spoke my name with pure mockery.

"Of course, Pan," Felix responded, his scar shifting as his lips moved.

Just his voice was enough to embed fear in my eyes. He unsheathed his dagger from his pocket and pointed the sharpened blade in my direction before lunging forward. 

A tugging sensation was felt deep in my stomach and everything was enhanced. Sight, sense of smell, hearing. Everything. The blood in my veins began to burn, searing the underlying flesh, and the uncontrollable elements churned. My heart beat a thousand times a minute as the sounds of squirrels chirping, boars barking, and birds pecking against the bark of the tall oak trees in the near distance surrounded my body like a blanket.

I could feel the strong wind against my sweaty face and my environment seemed to be slowed, like Time wished to grant me as much as possible. I inhaled through my nose in a smooth breath, the cool air stinging at the touch.

Out of pure instinct, I raised my knife to meet his, mid-air, using my footing to keep balance. He side-swept my legs, causing my body to collapse against the coarse dirt. Felix brought his dagger down on me once more. Just missing the blade as I craned my neck, bringing my ear to its adjacent shoulder. 

Like it never once was different, Time was back to his normal routine, the world flashing by in the blink of an eye at its ever-changing speed.

Observing his actions, I noticed his unprotected middle region and plunged my blade into his stomach, the tearing of his skin easily overpowered by an unintentional yelp that managed to slip off of the tip of his tongue. The scent of blood filled the air.

I removed my dagger from inside of the older boy and raced toward Pan, pressing the blade of my knife against the skin of his neck. I pushed his body against a tall oak tree, using my other hand to pin his left wrist. I expected to see panic in his eyes, but instead only found animalism, a horrifying smile playing with the corners of his lips.

"You've got fire," he paused, eyeing me leisurely, "I like fire." His smile transformed into a cold-blooded smirk. "But I've got strength," he continued, dematerializing then reforming behind me, pressing the blade against my throat, turning the tables completely, "and magic. Magic definitely helps."

I spat in his face, but he just laughed. Laughed at me. Laughed at my fear. Laughed at my weakness. I was trapped with a knife to my neck. There was no possible scenario where I would escape freely without a scratch. Then Pan did the unpredictable. He let me go.

"You're lucky my shadow thinks you'll be of use to me." Pan's breath felt hot against my neck as he whispered into my ear. "Or you'd be dead by now, your blood spilled across the dark jungles of Neverland as a celebration." He pivoted on his heel and traveled a couple of meters before turning his head, his back still facing me. "Your clothes are in my tent, where you'll be sleeping. Welcome to Neverland," I could see his grin even in the dead of night, nothing but the bright orange flames dancing in the fire to bring light to his dark person. "Lost girl."