Peter Pan The Killer

Chapter 26: Peter Pan's Wish For Death

"Pauline... I need more advice," Gwen said as she laid down on Pauline's bed.

"On what?" Her best friend asked as she applied her mascara for the fourth time. Pauline was getting ready for a date, and Gwen being her most-trusted was supposed to be giving her advice instead of being on the receiving end.

"On..." Gwen sighed in frustration, "I don't even know how to explain it," she said.

Pauline shook her head, "You and your secrets. Give me an analogy, quick ,quick," she said, which made Gwen thank the gods for blessing her with such a wonderful friend. If she had a secret, Pauline would never pry it out of her.

Gwen made up a synonymous situation, "Okay, let's say there was this stray dog. Wild thing goes around biting people. It killed your puppy."

"Woah, that escalated quickly," Pauline muttered.

Gwen ignored her remark and continued, "You want to get rid of this dog. I mean it killed your puppy, so all the more reason. But then, as you follow the dog around, you realise it's actually a mistreated dog left behind by its owners, and all that. So you realise this dog was just..."

"Scared?" Pauline continued for her.

Gwen pondered for a moment. Scared. Was that it?

"Yeah... Maybe. What will you do now?"

Pauline put her brush down and stared at Gwen. Her expression was not playful. She looked concerned. She came to sit beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Pauline what-"

"Gwen, I'm sorry but, this is about him... Isn't it? The murderer," Pauline said in a low voice. Gwen's heart almost stopped. The way Pauline said murderer was with that of fear and disgust, it made Gwen rethink her actions. She remained silent.

Pauline pulled her in for a hug, "Oh, Gwen... What's happening?" she said.

Gwen felt her body tremble at Pauline's words. "I don't know..." she said leaning into her embrace.

It was true. She did not what was happening to her. What happened to that headstrong girl who would stop at nothing to avenge her sister?

"Tell me, Gwen... Why are your convictions wavering?" Pauline said, summing up perfectly what was happening to her. The realisation hit her hard.

Why were her convictions wavering?

She saw it in his eyes. The insanity, which was masking the shattered emotions within him. He was so complicated. One moment he would be notorious, then he would turn merciless. However, between those two fronts, she caught glimpses of human emotions. She saw sadness, anger, confusion. He was broken, just good at hiding it.

"He reminds me of Anna," Gwen whispered into Pauline's sequin dress. Pauline stilled for a moment before continuing to stroke her back. Gwen knew Pauline had a truckload of questions, but she held her tongue.

"I'm worried about you, Gwen. I... Think you've dived in too deep," she said.

Gwen glanced at the wall clock, then extracted herself from her embrace. "Pauline, you have to leave. Don't want to keep Alfie waiting," she said.

Worry still laced Pauline's eyes, but she knew that meant Gwen was done talking about it. Wishing Pauline luck, Gwen left.

Once home, she pulled the curtains aside and twisted open the window handles. The breeze entered her workroom. She was not sure if he would come. After last night, she was just not sure anymore. She walked over to her pin board and stared at the newspaper cutouts pinned on it. There were so many of them. Killed. But every action has a reason. Everyone has a story. Gwen yearned to learn his.

The wind slowed, as if something blocked it. Gwen turned to face her visitor sitting on the windowsill. He looked less amused today. There was no sign of his trademark smirk. Gwen walked over and sat on the bed. The bright summer moonlight illuminated him. His eyes looked tired.

"Why d'you come?" she asked. She ignored the pounding of her heart, whether from fear or anticipation, as he hopped off the window and walked towards her. In a swift movement, he pushed her down onto the mattress and hovered above her.

"I still have a bet to win," he answered. Gwen tried her very best to remain impassive and composed as he neared her.

"Why do you think death can save them?" Gwen asked her voice a half-whisper. She did not have to speak any louder as they were close enough to count each other's breaths.

"Death is the only way to save them from this cruel world. Free them from the torture," he said.

"That's not true," she replied. He smiled almost in pity as he looked at her.

"Oh, Wendy. Believe me, I know what they crave," he said.

"All my life I yearned for nothing more than death," he said, his eyes trailing down her face. His gaze was so piercing, as if he were analysing every single one of her emotions.

"But no one... Has ever granted me that freedom," he whispered.

"Just like my sister," Gwen muttered.

"You're starting to get it now, aren't you?" he said with an insane glee in his eyes.

Gwen shook her head. "I couldn't help her," she said.

"There was no helping her-"

"You're wrong. There was. I was just too late," she stared at him head on.

Her next words were heavy to leave her mouth. They were choked up in her throat, her rational sides blocking them from rising. But it did. It broke past the logic, the reason.

"I can help you," she managed in a soft whisper.

He was silent. She saw them once again. The emotions. His icy eyes betrayed a flicker of a flame. It was small, not enough to thaw him. But perhaps she could stoke it.

His composure was cracking, his insanity disappearing. He was confused. Genuinely, confused.

"What is wrong with you?" he mumbled, his voice low, husky.

"I don't know..." she whispered back.

She was so close to him it was intoxicating, but strangely tantalizingly. He awakened the long asleep senses within her and made her body flush with heat. What was his icy heart feeling? She wondered for the first time. Whatever it was, they could not deny they were both caught up in the moment. Both stuck in this whirlpool of heat. She anticipated it this time, his lips meeting hers in the most sensual way she had ever experienced. Her body trembled as he kissed her, both of them responding slowly, as if testing the waters.

She stopped asking herself what she was doing and just let her mind and body go with the flow. She brought her hand up to rest on his cheek, but when she made contact with his cold skin, he flinched and pulled away from their kiss. She retracted her hand. They were both breathing shallow. His eyes were downcast.

"I don't need your help," he said, sounding emotionless. He got off her and left the room without sparing a second glance.

Gwen lay there on her bed. Her lips were warm and still tasted like his. Her body was flushed, but her heart was aching unimaginably.

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