The continuation of the "bad" Pocahontas is here! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, PLEASE READ THROUGH, YOU MAY END UP ENJOYING IT!

Thank you so much for all the reviews, favorites and follows! I love all the reviews, the good, the bad, the harsh, the nice, the cruel, the sweet, the etc. They are all amazing and helpful in their own way. It's 9:45pm. right now, which means you guys owe me one! I "need" to be in bed by 9:05 or else my body decides to be dysfunctional in the morning and I have two major tests and a big project that I have to do! So consider yourself lucky!

Anyway, next chapter will be dedicated to all the new reviews of the last few chapters since I'm lazy and tired now, so please enjoy!

I apologize to those of you who I've dragged on this emotional rollercoaster, I really did have one original story at the beginning, but as I wrote it out, it began to take a life of its own and boom! I'm showing you all of the ideas of this I have. I may move the "good" Pocahontas part to another story, but that all depends and if I do, I'll let you know.

Alright, enough of my yapping! Enjoy ~ A Keeper

Henry, Peter Pan and Tiger Lily landed on the cliff edge of the island which overlooked the vast waters which drew on forever and ever. "I'm going to go find the Lost Boys," Tiger Lily told Peter, not even sparing a glance for Henry. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Pocahontas," Peter reached out and took her wrist while his eyes remained transfixed upon the moon's gleaming reflexion upon the water. "Be careful."

"Always,"

Henry pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin upon them, fighting off the tears which clouded his eyes. It wasn't like her at all. How could such a wonderful person as she turn into that so abruptly? She had been so understanding, so genuine, so amazing.

Now...

Peter kicked something off the cliff in an angry rage and shouted to the water a battle cry of frustration and sadness. Henry's eyes widened at the strange display, but was too afraid to open his mouth to ask anything.

"Idiots," Pan whispered, running a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose. "They did the spell wrong."

"W-What?"

Peter turned to him and raised an eyebrow upon noticing the fresh tears in his eyes, but shook his head. He continued to throw stones into the water, but spoke as well, "Your mother, she performed the spell to bring...her back. She did it wrong."

"Is that why she...?"

Peter nodded, "Pocahontas and I have traveled very far together and we have done a great deal of things, as well. One adventure, I had underestimated our enemy. We nearly died, but she saved us. In the process, she locked away the shadow of a very dark man in her soul to protect us and everyone else from ever having their lives destroyed by it again. Somehow, she was able to keep it locked up, but using the sleeping spell meant that she lost control, it's why I never tried to awaken her when I had the chance."

"Waking her up could have killed all of you," Henry finished. Finally, he understood...sort of. "If this is true, why did you help her when she obviously became dark? You could have sided with my family, we could have-"

"No, we couldn't have." he crushed the rock in his hand and let the dust slide to the ground. "The shadow within her is too powerful. When she cut off her shadow, she cut out the part of her soul which contained the Pocahontas we knew."

Henry looked around, then leaned in towards Peter, "What can we do?"

"Peter?" rang the voice of the young woman they were speaking of.

"Not now, later."

Henry nodded; he was not going to lose her. Peter was not going to lose her.

"Where are we going?" Pocahontas whispered excitedly as she and Peter flew on to the porch of a lone hut in the middle of a vast swamp land—the only sign of life for miles around.

"Sh," Peter held a finger to his lips but grinned in delight. "My shadow has informed me that there's a new force to reckon with, I thought we ought to show him our might."

She raised an eyebrow playfully at him, but her voice was all seriousness, "Are you sure that is wise, Peter? We don't want to provoke a friend-"

"Aw, stop you're worrying," he took her hand and smiled, "I have everything under control and you're no fun when you're cautious."

She stuck out her tongue and they chuckled quietly, turning abruptly towards the door and concealing their frightened faces when it creaked open. "Are they expecting us?" she whispered, taking a firmer hold on his proffered hand. He did not reply.

Slowly, they crept in to the house which was far more strange on the inside than on the outside. It had dozens of bookcases lining the walls that bore not only books with strange markings and words, but shrunken heads, jars of peculiar substances, pieces and parts. A pot of a dark red type of stew or soup was boiling over a fire which eerily enough had no smoke beside a large wooden rocking chair.

"You see?" he asked, taking a seat in the chair and throwing his feet up to rest upon the bar which held the stew. "Nothing to worry about at all, he's not even home!"

Pocahontas warily went to the bookshelves to examine the books, still not entirely satisfied with the situation. She traced her finger along the book, then pulled one out. Flipping through it's pages, she tried to decipher the manuscript only to find that the words were fading away as though erased by an unknown force. She looked to Peter, who had closed his eyes and gasped when she saw a man hovering over him, watching him intently. "Pete-"

A ghost-like black hand covered her mouth, muffling her cries and holding her hands behind her back.

His eyes snapped open and he looked over to her and his eyes widened, "Hey-"

The man behind him placed a hand on Peter's shoulder and held him so firmly she could hear bones crack. "Now, who be trespassing on our property? Surely rambunctious kids such as yourselves wouldn't live very close to here. Lost, perhaps?"

"In a way," Peter replied darkly, using magic to shock the man into letting him go. "We came to investigate someone known by the name of The Shadow Man. Now, if you would please let my friend go, we can resume this like gentlemen."

The Shadow Man gave a devilish smile, "Ah, but you're not a gentlemen, are you, Peter? Just a silly little boy trying to impress a rather pulchritudinous lady." He took her hand, stooped down in a bow and kissed it. "Release her, Shadow, let her be free."

The Shadow grinned and let go of her; instantly, she made her way to Peter who took her hand to reassure her. He picked up the book she had been pondering on and whistled, "You sure picked a strange book out of them all, madame. This one holds all the good spells, the ones I use so very often. How to turn people to frogs, how to animate a shadow, how to hold a demon in your soul," he eyed them carefully. "How to deal with trespassers."

Peter stepped forward, pushing Pocahontas behind him. "You do not frighten us. We a strong and can destroy you as easily as you were created. Do not test us."

The Shadow Man chuckled and was slowly joined by other shadows upon the wall and even the shrunken heads on the shelves, all laughing at the pair in a hideous, demonic cackle. "Test you? I wouldn't dream of it!" he exclaimed, "I mean to control you."