Once Upon a Dream (OUAT/Peter Pan fanfiction)

...The dark

"Look at we got here boys!" A muffled dark British voice rang out, "It's the girl who broke the rules!"

Girl who broke the rules...

Oh no...

I face the dilemma of either wake up or pretend I was still unconscious. I lay there with my eyes closes, trying to cling around the events that had happened. All that seemed clear now was the salty smell of the sea and the prickling sand on my back. My head throbbed furiously but I kept digging and digging...

Then I remember. I remember seeing my mother's silhouette squeeze a glowing heart to nothing but dust. I remember hearing Emma's desperate broken cries at the sheriff station and I remember seeing dim lights and passing out onto the cold hard floor.

My head pounded against my skull harder. Oh my sweet heavens, Henry's stories are true! Or it could be part of my imagination... What is going on? It's too much to handle, and right now I have to tell myself to wake up- I can't let my head run wild again and trap me in this nightmare.

I felt a pointy nudge against my side and I wince at the poke. I slowly peel open my eyes to meet a sinister face staring down at me with the most intimidating scar. It was the boy that caught me last time with the scar and the stringy blonde hair! Is it a coincidence that I dream of the same place and people everytime?

"She's awake." The boy with the scar announced, and I noticed there were other hooded figures around me. They were the teenage boys I dreamt before.

I heard someone walk over, making slight crunches in the sand with his steps. This boy looked down at me and his dark elvish green eyes locked in with mine. This was the boy who took pleasure in tying me up against the tree with an apple in my mouth for target practice and calling me "the girl who broke the rules". The sudden memory of his devilish smirk and shocking features surged through my brain again, and my veins passed with a sudden iced feeling. I could tell the shock reached into my eyes, because the boy's lips curled the way they did before and his eyes shimmered with a sort of sadistic delight.

"Tie her up and bring her into my tent." The boy said to the hooded boys, and vanished while green smoke enclosed him.

A gasp escaped my lips and I heard the boy with the scar chuckle slightly; he looked awfully pleased as well.

Two hooded boys lifted me up from the ground and yanked back my arms painfully and I felt the rope's fibres digging into my skin. Then the boy with the scar point an arrow at me motioning me to move. What an odd choice of arsenal, couldn't he have gotten a sword or something?

"If you don't remember from your last visit," the boy said matter-of-factly, "these arrows are dipped with dreamshade juice. Now, you remember what dreamshade is, don't you?"

I don't respond, but I do start walking and kept my head and vision straight ahead. We entered the clusters of green forestry and I felt so entrapped, with my hands tied and a deadly weapon pointed behind my back and the green foliage scraping past my cheek everywhere I stepped. It made me feel claustrophobic- my breathing started hitching and my heart rate beat faster. We went to the route the boy with the scar took me last time, to the campfire. Except this time, since it was daytime, there was no bonfire in the centre, but only a lot of tents and some weapons lying around with freshly hunted animals lying on their sides. There was one tent, grander than the rest- obviously that British boy's. And that's exactly where I was lead to, through the flaps on the front of the tent. The inside was a lot more luxurious. There was a bed with grand drapes and proper sheets. There were big oak drawers with intricate detailed handles, and several books on shelves with foreign languages that I couldn't comprehend. There was everything and more, a lot more to be expected from just a tent.