Peter Pan sneered as he looked into the eyes of Greg Mendell. Mendell's eyes were wide with fear, and that excited Pan. Even with his boyish stature, he struck fear into the hearts of those whom he encountered, and that was something in which he took great pleasure, especially when the fear was in the eyes of the likes of Greg Mendell.

"You fool," Pan quipped. "You really thought that you and that harlot stood a chance against my Lost Boys?"

Pan's second-in-command, a tall, rough-looking blond boy named Felix, stood off to Pan's side. He grinned mischievously after hearing Pan's praise.

Mendell, who was restrained to a tree via vines, tried to be valiant. "We didn't want to fight them," he countered. "We just wanted to go home. We did what you asked."

"Yes, yes, you did," Pan replied. "You brought me the boy, but you see, now that you've completed your task, I'm not obligated to do anything for you." He laughed cruelly. "In fact, I couldn't if I wanted to," he continued, "and I definitely don't want to."

Mendell's eyes widened even farther. His eyes looked almost like they were ready to pop out of his head. "What do you mean?" he asked a bit shakily.

Pan sauntered away from Felix and closer to Mendell. His eyes sparkled with a sadistic glow. "Surely, you recall the painfully traumatic experience of your shadow being ripped from your body?" he replied slowly. "Well, that, as I'm sure that you've surmised by now, didn't kill you. Not quite, anyhow. You see, you are now trapped here. You couldn't leave here even if there were a way to leave here. Your soul is mine. Well, more accurately, your shadow is mine, but same difference. The point is, you belong to me." He accentuated the last four words as if each were a sentence of its own.

Mendell's breaths began to get very heavy as his mind raced, as he tried to comprehend the weight of what the demon boy had said to him. It took him a few seconds, and his eyes then fixed on Pan's with rage.

"Why?" Mendell demanded, his voice coarse.

"Because as much as I love being king of this wonderful little land, I do grow bored at times," he said with amusement evident in his tone, "and I wanted a toy to play with. Yes, I think that you'll do quite nicely. Besides, as I said, you dared to think that you could defy my Lost Boys."

At that moment, as Mendell shakily pleaded to be set free, Pan came even closer to him and plunged a knife deep into Mendell's left side. Mendell yelped in agony, and Pan pulled the knife out and smiled with pleasure as he plunged the knife in again.

"You see," Pan said, "no matter how many times I do this, you can't die."

Pan laughed maniacally, and when Mendell began to sob hysterically, Pan pretended to suddenly be concerned.

"Oh, don't fret now, Mr. Mendell," Pan said with derision. "There is no guarantee that you'll be here forever. If I ever do get tired of playing with you, I will simply hand you off to an old friend of mine." Pan paused for dramatic effect, his sadistic smile slowly returning. "I think that he'd likely have even more fun with you than I will."

Mendell let out a horrible scream as Pan drove the knife in yet again.