Hi! I hope you liked the prologue and first chapter. I'm going to try this whole 'One Update Per Day' thing, but I seriously doubt it's gonna work out. SO, you can expect at least one update a week. Most likely three or four, and if I do get in the hang of this, seven! Yay! But I need good encouragement and such to be able to reach that- yah know, motivation to reach my goals and such!
Disclaimer- I don't own them. I think we knew this already though, so...
Chapter 2- Cold Fingers
My feet guided me to a lovely beach, from which I could clearly see my beach- I even imagined I could see the bloody stains I left on the silvery sand, even though the tide would've washed it out by now.
"I'm surprised you could run with ribs in such an appalling state." A voice startled me out of my thoughts. I groaned internally,
"Yeah, well," I flung my arms out to the side and drawled, "I'm sorry if I disrupted your perfect little island. Your boys didn't seem very pleased to seem me- you know," I dropped my arms and pointed a finger at him accusingly, "One of them tried to decapitate me with some huge knife. You need to teach your friends some manners because I am seriously unimpressed. I've met terrorists with better manners than that."
He quirked a brow, "Is that so?"
Smug bastard. I bet that psycho doesn't even what a terrorist is.
I looked at him for a sec, "Well, yeah, I mean, I'm missing a huge chunk of hair- did you think I just decided to hack it off while I was running? That seems kinda... Counterproductive."
"Counterproductive?" He asks, mildly confused, in his fancy British accent I was only just noticing. At least, I'm pretty sure it's British...
"Well, yeah, how is chopping off my hair going to help me get off this island?" I asked, still giving him a funny look. OK, I admit, counterproductive isn't a very good word for it, but... yeah, that's all I got.
He looked amused now, "Getting off the island?"
I glared at him, irritated, "Are we repeating everything I say? Because, I hate that game more than anything. Capture the Flag, Manhunt, Hide and Seek, Poker, Texas Hold 'Em, whatever. Just not the echo game! It sucks!"
He chuckled smoothly at my outburst and stepped forward, "You like games, Birdy? I didn't think you'd be the type. You look so... serious." He mocked and I rolled my eyes.
"I want to get off this island and get to a hospital to fix my ribs. Shoot me for somehow managing to come off a serious." I crossed my arms and raised me chin a little, "Any idea how to get off the island, 'Peter'?" I asked.
"What, you don't believe that's my name?" he asks, grasping him chest, "You wound me!"
"I buy none of the shit you're trying to sell me. None of it." I stated firmly.
"You haven't even been on the island long enough to form an opinion!" He exclaimed with a wild grin.
"True, but I've been on it long enough to break a majority of my ribs, get harassed by some psychotic teenager, and get chased by some violent teens who should not be allowed without several feet of anything that could be used or interpreted as a weapon." I pointed to my hair, "My hair is not happy."
Peter snorted, then became serious very suddenly and invaded my personal space, "Let's make a deal then. You stay with me, the 'psychotic' boy and my friends if I can prove to you, the skeptic, that I'm Peter Pan, they are the Lost Ones, and this is Neverland, and you'll stay here for one week, Neverland time."
"And if you can't?" I questioned, stepping closer to him in retaliation.
"I'll be able to, trust me," he smirked.
"I don't," I said bluntly, "and like you said- I'm the skeptic. Have fun proving that your name is even Peter Pan, because no parent would name their child after a Disney character that flies around in bright green tights and pointy shoes. So, what if you can't prove that you're-"
Peter interrupted me by grabbing my waist and pulling me against him before jumping off the goddamn cliff.
Which was beach just moments ago.
I yelped and braced myself for my inevitable death.
...Which never came. I looked at Peter, who was smiling smugly, then at the ground, hundreds of feet below us, so I could get a full view of the island- the complete package, unrealistically large and random mountain, lots of beaches, more trees covering an eighth of this island than the entire United States, even a pirate ship just off the eastern coast of the island!
"Well... Fuck."
Peter chuckled and I glared at him, "Well, this doesn't prove that you're Peter Pan and this is Neverland, sooo... Take me home."
"No." he refused, adjusting his grip on me. I stared at him,
"Wha- why not?!" I exclaimed, "You said yourself that there aren't girls on the island."
He smiled, "Tink lives here."
I would've tossed my hands up in the air if they weren't pinned between out chests. I glared at him. He was enjoying this too much. "Of course there's a fucking Tinkerbelle. Why the hell not?"
"Someone's upset." He remarked calmly.
I stared at him, stunned, "You're not letting me go-" once again, he cut me off, this time by flying very rapidly towards the ground, the flying over the water to get to (I assumed) the other side of the island.
I looked at the water, looked at him, then sighed, "I hope you bathe a lot." I muttered. He looked confused until I bit down on his arm, hard. Blood filled my mouth, coating my teeth. He jerked his arm away and involuntarily dropped me. I squeezed my eyes shut as I fell, dragging in one last breath before I hit the cold water.
A small, brunette girl dove into the cold, refreshing water, her clear, tourmaline blue eyes shining brightly under the water. Her hair spread out in a halo as she sunk slowly to the bottom of the pond. A little boy swam down, his kicks wide and sloppy, as he struggled to reach the bottom of the pool.
The girl reached up and pulled the boy down with her and they stayed for a quiet moment until the boy struggled to return to the surface, air bubbles streaming out of his nose and mouth. The girl's eyes slid closed as she sat there, her fingers entwined in the various greens adorning the silk-covered pond bottom.
I surfaced with a gasp, coughing out water as I treaded water. I started to kick towards the beach when I felt a cold hand wrap around my ankle and tug me backwards. Looking down, I saw a pale face framed by golden hair smile wickedly at my before yanking me under the surface.
OMG mermaids!
I like mermaids. Just not the Disney kind. Disney mermaids... Meh.
Review to prove your Loyalty!
~Songbook12
