Okay, here's the remaining entries for the rest of this series. Well, most of the remaining entries. I felt it was unfair to post the rest of it on AO3 and not here. Anyway, let me know what you think.
"I need you defenseless, dependent, and alone."
She's slipping, clawing at slick walls, desperate and her fingers coil into her palms as she struggles. She's so dirty now; hair tangled in thick mats, dress hanging in soiled rags, and his dried blood caked beneath her finger nails. Her throat burns and her bones ache and she's so exhausted.
He knows, she can see it in his eyes. The way he watches her; tongue trailing over teeth. He crawls underneath her skin. He is all claws and teeth; raw and feral. He is the sick feeling that creeps up her spine, slides over her ribs and leaks into her lungs; settling uneasy in the pit of her stomach. As much as she heaves and coughs she can't ever shake him. She willingly climbed into his web and now his fangs are sunk deep; drinking her dry.
He keeps her caged in a tiny concrete room and only comes stalking when it's dark. It's no different this time. He comes from the shadows; teeth white and shining.
"I've missed you." He says; his voice rumbling like thunder and eyes flashing like lightning. As he moves closer she can see the gashes she left across his cheek and she remembers how they wept red the night before.
"Let me go." She pleads. She refuses to cry this time, but she's slipping and there's nothing to hold on to. Nothing but him.
"Wendy," He tsks, "How many times do we have to go through this?"
"Please, Peter." Her voice trembles, "I want to go home."
He laughs and reaches for her wrists, "This is your home!"
She stumbles back; shaking her head. Panic twists in her belly as her back hits the wall and she knows he's going to slither inside her again, ruin her even more. She's exhausted, but the fear rises in her throat and her fingers curl into fists. He moves and she lashes out; nails raking over the gouges she already made. The blood welts up fresh and thick and it makes her mouth water.
He hisses and his lips curve into a snarl; she's made him angry, "You don't want to do this, Wendy. I hate it when they fight back." He grabs her by the hair and yanks; gripping her jaw with his free hand, "I chose you because you were supposed to be different."
She isn't slipping anymore, she's falling and she's frantic, "Take me back, Peter!" She shrieks.
"You think they'll want you now?" His laughter is manic and his grip tightens, "They won't take you back. You're not their wonderful, proper, darling Wendy anymore." The words drip from his mouth, caustic and burning.
Her fingers grasp his wrists; nails burrowing into his flesh. He shoves her up against the concrete and the tears sting as they swell up and tumble down her cheeks. His lips trace the shell of her ear, "I watched you for ages, you know. You hated it there, cried over how no one noticed you, how no one cared about you." He pulls back and sneers, "Poor, pathetic, perfect Wendy Darling. So lonely and lost."
"Stop."
"Don't you get it?" He asks, "I found you and I took you away like you asked me to, like you begged me to, and this is how you thank me?"
Something snaps inside her and Wendy snarls, "You're a snake and I was a fool to believe your pretty lies!" She shoves against him, "Try and break me, Peter Pan. I dare you."
She watches him change; the fury sliding away as his sneer coils into a sick grin, "Well then, Wendy," Fear churns violently in her gut and she wonders when his teeth turned into knives, "Let's play a game."