Peter Pan Imagines

Remember This! Part 11

Peter POV:

"PETER! PLEASE!" The whirs of the machine overpowered her cries. "HELP ME!"

They had caught her, an uncageable bird entwined between the thorns of corruption and malice. Their tools and greed would rip through her pale skin like fine fabric, letting the solid stream of crimson escape from her screams. Paralyzed by my own weakness, a cloudy panic drifted through my gaze as her screams pierced the air.

My fingers scraped the crude wooden floor of the deck as I rose to a sitting position. My vision rocked back and forth as I threw myself forward. Looking around desperately, I found myself in yet another locked room, the very room which harbored the machine which weakened me so. My legs swayed gingerly as I rose to my feet, pulling and ripping at the two great iron beams that barred the door shut. Closing my eyes, I could almost feel Nicole beside me with her hair smelling faintly of lavender and now a metallic, bloody scent. 

"PLEASE!" I heard her screams from behind the thick wood door. "STOP!" She breathed in shallow intervals, leaving most of her air attributed to her screams.

I focused on her intently, and through some miracle of the little magic blood I had left, found myself on the other side of the door. What faced me now was not a wooden plank with distant screams, but a gathering of cultists dressed in red and bronze hoods surrounding an operation table coated with blood. Through this display, Nicole was no where to be seen, no where to be heard. Just as I took a step forward, the cultists turned to me, lifting their hands and chanting.

From out of this crowd, one with a bronze cloak lowered his hood, revealing Michael's face now shining with an iridescence that illuminated the dark underbelly of the ship. Even from up close now, I could tell that the man I had once known, the friend I had once killed, was long dead.

"Peter." He snarled and drew his dagger from his hip, the red robed cultists growing louder with each passing second. "This is for my sister." He bolted up to where I stood and attempted to thrust it into my chest. I shielded my chest, but at the loss of my palm which now had a long bronze dagger stuck through it.

"AHHHGH!" I whimpered, plucking the dagger from my palm. Michael, noticing his failed attempt, kicked me in the kneecap, sending me again falling to the ground in a pile.

"W-where did you send her?" I wrapped my hand underneath my tunic, the tears welling as the gaping hole in my hand throbbed violently.

He grinned sadistically like a cat that had caught its mouse. As he did, the cultists gathered in a circle, continuously chanting. Bending down, he whispered into my ear slowly, "My sister is far away from here so you can't interfere with her transformation."

"Where IS she Michael?" I jerked my head upward violently, "So help me I will kill you right now!" A searing, lightning-like pain ran through me as the cultists chanted. "Damnit!" I screamed through my teeth. "JUST LET HER GO!"

And so, as if by a miracle, a red arrow shot out of the dark and struck Michael in the head, making both him and the cult disappear in a cloud of bronze smoke.

Out of the shadows limped Tiger Lily with a bow and arrow aimed at my heart. Her right hand was no where to be found, but what replaced it instead was a lump of bandages and a silver hook.

She scowled at me with a glare that could kill a man, "I'm not doing this for your sake, you coward." Tiger Lily glanced around the room nervously. "Where did they take her?"

"I don't know" I began to seize up from the lightning shocks and the dreamshade poisoning. "He was struck in the head and disappeared before he told me anything."