O'Children (A OUAT Neverland Fanfic)

Chapter 2:Introduction

Authors Note: In the 'Main land' (Which is Earth,) the year is sometime in the 1970's!

"If you don't receive love from the ones who are meant to love you, you will never stop looking for it."

― Robert Goolrick

Abucting boys from the Mainland use to be a usual routine for Peter. They had to be somewhat fit and have a hard head, to withstand any physical or emotional pain they may endure. But besides Wendy, Peter had never taken a girl. He had always preferred boys. They were stronger, less emotional than females were. He couldn't stand them at times. Neverland was an escape from that.

He knew what lay before him, would be a long while. That's why he must choose his target carefully. A girl that would hold her head high as he did, but still be subject to the rules he cast in Neverland. Loyalty was a requirement.

And if he happened to slip up on his choice, choose the wrong girl, he would have to cage her. Killing a girl, he hated to admit it but, it was to hard for him. He'd tried with Wendy before, but her pleading got on his nerves. Or at least, that was his excuse.

Flying above the tissue of the city, he eyed every crevice, searching for an open window, a nice landing platform. And it was than that he heard a sonata immersed in the dead of night, it was catchy, he had to admit. He was attracted to the very spot, as he lowered himself, grabbing onto the frame of the slightly ajar window. Blinking, he peered inside, the room decorated with lace and velvet, the wall paper dull, but the decorations sprucing up the isolated room. Watercolor paintings and newspaper cut outs brace the walls, and a curtain hides the bed, the cloth resembling something like silk. Eyes wandering, he paused as his eyes fell on a frail girl, a long, loose dress meeting the floor of her bedroom. She had brunette hair down to her shoulders, no bangs but a tame curl to her hair, wrapping perfectly around her neck. She bore fair skin and a light trace of freckles along the bridge of her nose and along the edge in her cheekbones. She paced back and forth through the dim light of her bedroom, hazel eyes plastered on her wood flooring. Her head seemed to slightly nod to the tune of the music, a finger tapping the very edge of her lip.

The music had a very rhythmic tone to it, illuminating the dull night, capturing his attention. There was a voice that lulled through out the chorus, very raspy and collected. It was than that he noticed the chiseled dagger resting on her dresser, and a round box that read clove cigarettes, open and scattered across her desk. long white vessels sprawled across the lightly tinted pink dresser, what he believed to be the cigarettes.

The dagger pulled him in, a chill emitting down his slim arms and his arched back. Mouth ajar, he moved closer, pushing the window slightly open, the girl not seeing a thing of it. She continued to pace, and than settled for sitting on the very edge of her bed, pushing away the cloth that hid off her bed.

That was when he approached her. A clean smirk pressing at his lips, an eyebrow raised in question. When she noticed him approaching, she stood up, eyes showing surprise, but showing no territorial reaction. A usual person would scream, or retrieve a weapon. But she, on the other hand, just stared, chest rising and falling at the same speed as it had before she noticed him.

She wasn't scared. How wasn't she scared? That slightly angered him. Most of the boys he'd attempted to capture in the past tried to go at him. And when he came for Wendy, she was merely frightened. A breath escaping his pursed lips, he spoke, eyeing the oddity.

"What is this tune? It's capturing... to say the least."

Blinking, she opened her mouth to speak, raising an eyebrow.

"It's The Rolling Stones. Sympathy for the Devil. Strange boy."

Who hasn't heard of The Rolling Stones? What planet was he from? She asked herself, chuckling under her breath. She was almost insulted.

"Right." He said, biting his lips, narrowing his eyes. "Sorry for barging into your bedroom, but I have an offer you won't be able to resist." Another crooked grin pierced his lips.

She crossed her arms, eyes gazing into his right back. "I honestly doubt that. How did you get into my room, anyways? This is the fourth floor of our apartment, and you came in through the window. " She said, expression sifting into confusion and curiosity.

Shaking off the question, he pretended to ignore her, nearing her, a faux excited expression perched on his features.

"First off, I think it would be rather rude, to not introduce myself."

He held out his hand, eager for her to take it.

"I'm Peter---- Peter pan."

And when she did, he brought it to his lips, planting a kiss on her knuckles.

This was a game he was certainly willing to play. And he would sure as hell win.