Chapter One
Peter Pan screamed as the hook sliced into his flesh. It was not a deep gash, but it stung fiercely. His body was tense against the adult arms holding him... but his weight slumped in the pirates' grasp as the Captain withdrew his permanent blade.
Peter's shoulders trembled; his entire torso rose and fell with his laboured panting. Captain Hook took time and pleasure in wiping the boy's blood from his namesake, before turning back to look into the child's face. It was obvious Pan was spent.
It was so easy to subdue the whelp; what was difficult was getting hold of him in the first place. Peter's ability to fly was what always saved him, but Hook was determined that, this time, the boy's feet would not leave the ground again.
Hook gazed on at the boy, lost in his own thoughts.
Peter knew Hook was staring at him, but he could not yet muster the strength or confidence to meet the man's eye. He could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck. His hair was damp with perspiration, but he couldn't stop shaking. He knew he looked weak, but he couldn't find the energy to fight any more; he needed to rest.
He could feel the dull ache and throb of his bruising skin, and remembered how roughly he had been seized but Alf Mason and George Scourie. The shame of being captured filled him then; he had been careless. He had been foolish. And now, he was being punished for it.
"Shall we thrash him again, Captain?" piped up Turely.
There was a loaded pause as Hook considered.
"No... He's had enough, for now. We don't want to break him... yet."
The crew jeered and chuckled mutedly at their captain's meaningful delivery. Peter finally drew himself up a little, and returned Hook's gaze with a scowl of defiance. He hocked back what little phlegm he had left in his drying mouth, and spat; the globule of mucus hit Hook's left cheek, spattering into his eye.
The captain's good hand flew up to his face in reaction, wiping away the spit with his coat sleeve. The same hand then flew through the air, the back of it connecting solidly with Peter's jaw, snapping the boy's head to the side.
The shock of the blow chased away Peter's voice, and all he could produce was a strangled gasp at the impact.
His vision blurred, and seething pain sprouted throughout his head. He felt sick and was sure, if he wasn't being held up by the men standing on each side of him, he would be face-down on the deck by now.
A slight smile played across Hook's lips as he beheld his captive.
"I've got a much better idea in mind for you, my boy."