Peter Graham was just an english boy until he was stolen by pirates and taken to Neverland, the place inbetween worlds. There, he became Pandemonium, the fearsome fae warrior who started an organisation planning to otherthrow the pirates. But when P...
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Chapter One - Alcoholic Relief Song - Red Desert - 5 Seconds of Summer // Lights Up - Harry Styles
Pan flew, not noticing or caring about the wet trees brushing against his already leafy shirt. He flew with a single-minded focus, only focused on the grubby pirates and their three prisoners below him. He flew overhead, matching their pace with his flight without their notice. His sharp eyes tracked them through the misty clouds he wove in between, marking any movements the drunken men below him made.
Those same hazel eyes narrowed in concentration when the pirates slowed. The prisoners they had been keeping slowed too, and Pan dove down for a moment, spotting something glinting on the ground. Blood. He almost growled as he noticed that the blood was like a breadcrumb trail behind the small group. From this distance he couldn't say for sure where the wounds dripped from, their clothes were too dark to be sure but the bright red stood out against their shackles and the leaves they trampled in their efforts to keep up with the men ahead. Pan would've bet his left tit that the blood wasn't coming from the pirates, in any case.
With a leap, he soared into the air again, his already hard resolve to protect strengthening every moment.
Nobody deserved to be forced to be a pirate, and certainly not the innocents these three surely were. For that's what awaited the three prisoners being hauled along in the forest by the pirates. The shackles may come off if they worked hard enough, perhaps they may do something to please One, if they were lucky they might even have exploitable talents. However the shackles were removed, they would never fully leave. Pan, and every person on the island he knew, could attest to the invisible (and visible) scars One and his band of pirates had inflicted.
These three children- because that's who Pan assumed they were. (These days it seemed they were always children, children who slept deeper and were more willing to say yes to the shadows that moved in their dreams.) These three children would become like others Pan had failed to save. The light would fade from their eyes, and even the youngest of them would seem to age from the inside out. Pan had seen tiny hands covered in blood, and he flew faster as the harrowing image flashed into his mind briefly, he would not let it happen again.
He took stock of the situation below him. He'd already counted their number, and seen the bloody trail they left behind. Judging from what Pan assumed were pyjamas, they had been snatched in the darkness of the night. Again, he thought of faceless shadows inviting him forward, remembered tumbling through the darkness, skinning his knees as he landed...he shook his head. This was exactly why Cailer worried about him doing these kind of missions. She said he was too wrapped up in his own damn drama. Or trauma, depending on how gentle she felt like being to her captain. Whichever it was, Pan still ached to prove her wrong despite how often she turned out to be right.
