Chapter 19: Peter Pan and His Twisted Logic

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"London?" Gwen said over the phone as she twirled her mechanical pencil in her hand.

"Yeah, I'm planning to look into this case a little deeper. It seems to have a solid connection to our problem. Gwen, you stay and focus on your exams, okay?" James replied through the line.

Gwen sighed, "Okay. But if you need any help, let me know. I want to get back on this case together," she said.

"Me too. As of now, you just stay level," he said with a chuckle.

He does not understand what the actual cause of my stress is. Gwen thought to herself.

After she ended the call, she had to wonder. Now that she thought about it, since making the deal with her, this so-called Peter Pan had put his killing activities on hold. If he was not going around stalking children to see if their worthy of suicide, what was he doing? She did not want to believe he was spending his time stalking her. It was horrifying enough having a stalker, but a psychotic killer as one...

Then again, if this killer were to go outside, he would blend with the crowd so well. What if he was an ordinary person working a day job, but at night he turns into this full-on murderer? Gwen shrugged.

He had secrets. Yesterday, Gwen believed she had struck a chord. For the first time, Peter Pan did not have a quirky remark. If she could keep tugging at those strings, she may just get some advantage over him. James was doing his part in finding clues through digging up the old case files, she should do hers by digging up secrets from this killer. Who knows, she might get him to crack before she does.

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It was well past midnight when the killer arrived that night. The entire school day was exhausting enough. Gwen fell into a deep sleep long before he arrived. A sleeping mind was a vulnerable one.

Deep within a dream world, Gwen saw a huge expanse covered with sprawled dead bodies of children. She stood at the centre of them all. Their bloody faces each bore an ecstatic smile. It was a gruesome sight; she had to stop herself from gagging. Up ahead she saw a tall tower, the Big Ben loomed before her. Its loud bells began chiming, a haunting sound that echoed across the land of dead bodies. 

"Is this your sick vision of Neverland?" Gwen muttered. Peter Pan appeared beside her, hands in his pockets.

"Heavenly isn't it?" he said, an insane look painted his vibrant green eyes. Gwen glanced at the landscape once again.

"What's so heavenly about bloody dead bodies?" she replied.

Peter Pan stared ahead at the Big Ben. She noticed that the clock had no hands; it was a face with numbers and bells that rang within it.

"When you're dead, nothing matter anymore. You need not keep fighting your inner monsters. Don't you think so?" he said, appearing behind her. She felt his fingers creep to her neck and wrap around her throat.

"Death is escape. Escape from madness. There is nothing more rewarding than death," he whispered into her ear. His fingers tightened slightly around her neck. Gwen placed her hand over the fingers, intending to choke her.

"What makes you feel responsible for the freedom of these people?" Gwen muttered.

"Call it charity. A selfless act," he said, his breath tickling her ears. Gwen felt his grasp on her neck loosen.

"I've got nothing to lose... I'm doomed to suffer in this world forever," he said so softly, she could have sworn she heard him wrong, but she knew she did not.

"No one is doomed to suffer forever. We all have a chance at fixing ourselves," she replied in a whisper.

The bloody bodies around her started to turn into dust. The surrounding image flickered and warped, as if the signal projecting it was unstable. She could still feel Peter Pan's presence behind her. He pulled his hands away from her neck, and he threw her out of the dream.

Gwen awoke with a gasp. Her face was pressed against her pillow. Her blanket was twisted around her body. She untangled herself from it and sat up. Peter Pan was perched on the windowsill, staring at her. She shivered. The look in his eyes did not have its usual glint of humour. It was hollow, serious, and almost deadly. It reminded her again that this man was a murderer. For a moment, fear gripped her, twisting up her spine like a cold frost.

He smiled, a mirthless cruel grin spread across his face, "Fixing ourselves? You're big to talk, the last I remember, your sister was cutting herself," he said.

Gwen narrowed my eyes, "You can't divert my attention by bringing her up. I know what happened... I was just too late..." she trailed off.

"To save her," she said at last. She had to accept that Anna's death was due to the lack of her attention. Mom, Dad and herself, they did not give her the love she needed. Peter Pan took advantage of that and killed her. Gwen had this gnawing thought that even if he did not, she would have taken her life herself. Still, it did not give Peter Pan anymore of a reason to do so either way.

"Those children... They could be saved," she said and glanced up at him.

"That's exactly what I'm doing," he said and leaped out of the window.

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