He watched her.
Her pretty white sundress floating about her knees; hair tangling down her back. She looked toward the sky; eyes bright and innocence bared.
She took cover in the shade of the lone oak tree; slim fingers ghosting over rough bark. She was perfect; so sweet it made his teeth ache and he wanted nothing more than to sink them deep into her flesh. His mouth watered.
He stepped forward; hands buried deep in his pockets, his last desperate attempt at control worn string thin. A smile curved at the corners of his lips; he called out to her, "You're a very pretty girl."
She turned round; eyes wary as her hands fisted in the hem of her dress, "Am I?"
He moved closer, licking his lips and grinning, "You're a very special girl, Wendy. Don't you know?" He could practically feel her pulse quicken; blood thickening. She was his salvation and damnation. He was going to take his fill of her and wring her dry; set her free.
"They don't -" She stammered and he watched as a pretty pink blush crawled from the hollow of her throat to the top of her cheeks, "Nobody sees me."
He didn't hesitate. He moved with purpose; circling her, "I see you. I've always seen you."
Her brown eyes widened and he sees the hope fill her, "Truly?"
She's too trusting to know better, but his lips curl up into a grin and he lets his fingers weave themselves into her hair, "I know you better than anyone ever will, darling Wendy." He leans forward ever so slightly, "I can take you to a place where everyone will notice you, where they will listen to what you say and hang on your every word."
"Please?" She whispers so sweetly and he feels the ache growing in his empty bones.
He knows what she wants; poor, dear, innocent girl, but he wants her to say it. Beg for it.
"Please what, Wendy?"
"Take me there. I want to go with you." Her voice trembles because she wants it so badly.
His hands leave her hair to grasp at her wrists, so close, "You'll have to give me something first." His head swims with the scent of her; fresh and clean, the smell of Spring.
"Anything. I'll give you anything."
He says nothing, but his lips spread wide as his tongue rolls over his teeth.
In his greed he sinks his poisoned hooks deep into her and takes everything she has. And when he is done her perfect white dress is ruined; soiled with dirt, tears, blood, sweat, and sin, but he thinks she has never looked lovelier.
She stares up at the sky; eyes wide and hands coiling into the grass below her. He leans forward to taste the salty skin over her collarbone. He hears her ask, "What is your name?"
He whispers it like a prayer into her flesh, "Peter."