Part 2
Chapter 12Tiger
Despite the boys' crying at night and the adjustment in dynamics, Neverland itself seemed mostly static, even if the action around the island changed.
The Natives were hunting in the jungle again, and although I often pressed to pursue them for invading the land Pan took away from them. Each time I did so, however, he'd dismiss it and I be obligated to let the subject relax.
The tiger I'd occasionally see in the underbrush seemed to take an interest in our increase in number. She showed up much more often, hiding as usual, just out of eyeshot.
I didn't mind much; in fact I'd barely register it most of the time. I was used to her presence. To me, she was simply another part of Neverland planted under Pan's thumb.
Some of the others didn't understand that.
And somehow they were able to convince the rest of them into hunting the tiger down. I protested when they brought the idea up to Pan, but as I couldn't rightfully defend it, those protests fell on deaf ears.
I couldn't really explain why I wanted to keep the beast alive, except for that there was a familiarity there. That tiger was a silly reminder of the fifty years before everything got complicated.
Leaving the camp that day I was at the front of the hunting party, my club in hand. The company followed me with their spears and crossbows, keeping a good distance from me.
It was amusing how afraid they were. As though I were the wild beast they were too afraid to hunt without a chaperone.
I'm not sure why they disliked me, but it hardly mattered. If I were to guess, however, it would be because I was quieter and more severe than the rest of them. I was different.
Then there was also my position among the group. Pan didn't have a problem with a pyramid structure, and it was very clear to all that Rufio and I were a tier above the rest. The difference between me and him was that I wasn't nearly as easy to talk to.
And I didn't really mind. I didn't want their chatter to fill my brain. Words are best reserved for purpose, for informing. Mindless prattle was pointless, and if that's what I needed for them to accept me I wasn't interested.
Pan didn't mind that I didn't make any efforts to join the others on their level, and so I assumed it was all right. Perhaps it was even one of the reasons he chose me to be his right-hand boy - someone who wouldn't hold interest in anything lesser than him.
Of course, this made my interests very selective.
And if there was one thing I wasn't interested in, it was killing that tiger. Horrible of me to come up with the plan myself, but Pan did bid me to help them in this endeavor, so despite my personal preference to keep the animal alive, I did as he asked.
It was midday when we found the cave in which the creature lived, a few of us entered and the rest of the group waited outside.
Five minutes was all it took to find the tiger. She was sleeping pleasantly, bright purple and striped. She seemed harmless to me even though judging by the claws she could have ripped out any of our throats with one swing of her paw.
It it unsportsmanlike to kill a sleeping creature, and because even children know how to play fair, we positioned our weapons to face the tiger, and then they screamed to wake her up.
The big cat lurched up, springing onto padded paws and roared. One long feline note that scratched our eardrums like sandpaper and shook the walls of the cave.
Her orange eyes met mine, and for a minute, it was almost as though there was an understanding. I was face-to-face with my past, about to destroy it. It would never look at me in Pan's absence, after that moment, and that would be that.
Almost tragic, really.
I sighed, ready to give the boys the signal. "Run."
We dispersed, running out to the mouth of the cave at breakneck speed. The tiger snarled, low and dangerous, chasing after us.
Just according to plan.
A foolish plan that required outrunning a wild animal.
With one more horrible roar, I ate dust. The great body twice my size came over me. Pain wracked through my body as I took claws to the face, crying out as I felt blood gush out just under my eye.
I stared at the sharp teeth as they came closer to my face.
They say that before you die your life flashes before your eyes. I saw the likeness of Pan standing in its place. Close enough.
The spell was broken a second later, as an arrow flew through the air, getting the beast in the shoulder. She rocked back, giving me enough time to get away, running after the boys who reached the mouth of the cave.
I breached the opening of the cave, tasting blood and seeing red.
"Now!"
I just barely made it out of the way as the boys who had stayed outside the cave launched a weighted net onto the creature. She jumped at us, but was restricted within the confines of the rope. The arrows and spears launched then, digging into the purple fur and tough hide, red blood bubbling up like a geyser as the stones broke the skin.
My mouth filled with blood from my face, the air stung and made me wince as I watched.
With a final roar that rang through the treetops, the tiger stopped moving.
I felt sad then, for some inexplicable reason, as I felt something slip, some reality that ceased to be.
Of course, this was all sentimental and silly. It was a tiger, a beast; not an indicator of anything important.
We arrived to camp again shortly after the tiger died; we had cut the creature into pieces and a few of the newer boys carried the bloody flesh in armfuls back to our settlement. Others carried its pelt proudly, and still others had its paws and tails in tow as trophies.
The camp was empty, the boys who hadn't come with us must have been working or playing somewhere else.
I barked at the boys to dress and take care of the carcass, to cook it for supper.
In the meantime, I found a dirty mirror one of the boys had with them when the shadow retired them from their world.
It was almost laughable, the entire right half of my face was covered in blood and stray purple hair. A vein had burst in my eye, adding to the total redness of my face. The other eye had swollen shut.
Using an old rag and a bucket of clean water, I wiped off the blood from my face, only to find it replaced instantly. From what I could tell from the split second, the tiger had dug deep, causing mountains and valleys to appear over my face.
Well, I supposed it could have been worse. The cat could've gone for my throat.
I used rags to create a bandage that immediately soaked in the blood. It was an ugly sight, but at least the pressure would eventually stop the bleeding.
As I did all this, the boys stuck the different chunks of tiger over the fire and made it burn hot.
I hadn't eaten tiger before that day, but I can't say the scent was unappealing.
"Go on and get him, will you Felix?" One of the boys asked after a while, turning over the tiger on the rotisserie. "It's almost ready."
I rolled my good eye, seeing the blood in my peripheral. "He's likely at his Thinking Tree, and he doesn't like to be disturbed."
"Well he doesn't like it when we eat before him either," The boy whined. "And we're just so hungry."
"He won't mind if it's you," Another put in.
"I'm starving!"
"Look you can see m'ribs!"
"I don't think I've never eaten nothin' before!"
And then just like that I was surrounded by the sweaty, dirty, raggedy boys bidding I go and fetch Pan. I sincerely doubted that I could "fetch him" even if I wanted to, but if for no other reason than to escape the flood.
I walked through the jungle without much purpose, my head pounding and my face throbbed and burned. It slowed my pace even more than it was already. Not that I minded; I was not terribly keen on returning to camp to their obnoxious and shrill voices and the last thing I wanted to do was disrupt Pan.
That is, until I cleared the branches that led me to the Thinking Tree.
I had to press my own hand over my mouth to stop from yelling.
Pan was there, yes, but he wasn't alone.
The tree obstructed my view, but it's impossible to mistake the heavy breathing, the erratic motions of the hip as it thrusts and waves upwards and inwards.
I struggled to stay my breathing and lurching stomach. My face hurt even more as my eye adjusted to the scene. I couldn't tear my eye away from the way perspiration collecting on his face as it jounced in and out of my sight. The way a hand coiled around the bark, nails digging into it as he built his way up.
His trousers were open just enough so he could escape, and I was able to make out the base of his cock as he slid outwards, still half buried.
He sounded as though he were far away, and yet at the same time as though he was moaning and grunting into my ears. There was an intensity to his guttural I'd never heard before. My brain struggled to commit it to memory but found that the attempt simply made everything phase out.
I must have moved, must have made a sound, because Pan looked away from the person hidden in the tree and out towards me. I fell to the ground, feeling foolish to try to hide.
Peering up from the grass, I looked at him before he turned back to the tree. There was an potency to his eyes, a high within them, and an extra flash to it that was all but foreign to me before then.
I don't think I ever saw something so thrilling before. Anything so completely dominating and in control.
Of course, the thrill had to die as I looked up again. Having fell to the ground I was in a different position and therefore the entire scene was much clearer.
He had Tiger Lily pressed up against the rough bark of the tree, her hands held high above her head by vines that squeezed so tight her hands were a pale blue that I didn't think possible with her complexion.
The female form is a disgusting thing, especially when splayed between Pan and a tree.
She looked pained, held up against the tree like that, her face contorted into a permanent cringe that indicated she was receiving very few favors from the exchange.
Good.
But still, his tongue broke through her teeth, sliding in and out. His hips kept up a similar pattern as they slammed into hers, shaking the tree with them.
She rocked into it too much for the pain to be as bad as the look on her face indicated. Maybe, I thought, that's just what women look like when they...
My throat was dry, and I shook slightly on the forest floor. When I expressed interest in knowing what he looked like building up to an orgasm I didn't mean I wanted to find out like that.
"So can I?" He panted, his voice shaking with the movement.
She hissed; her voice was heavy. "If you really want."
I really wanted to vomit.
The tree let her go, and for a moment I thought I'd have respite.
The actuality was that it just got worse as Pan spun her around, driving her stomach and breasts into the bark of the tree. The vines wrapped around her again, coiling her whole body so it sunk in. She cried out in a pitch that was too high and Pan laughed deep in his throat as he grabbed her skirt and forced it upwards.
He took her then with no precaution, lining himself up and plunging forward in five seconds flat, rubbing against her back and hissing into her ear as the tears started to roll down her face.
I winced, almost praying that he at least had magic for lubrication and stretching.
And then I remembered exactly what I was watching.
My stomach constricted, and I broke out in goosebumps as my face pounded even more. My mind hazed and everything blurred.
He let out a mind-numbing sound, a low warble that was more sedating than even the most powerful drug.
I shattered, all but literally feeling the shards of my heart piercing through my lungs and into my ribs.
Scrambling on the ground, I'm sure I made noise as I dashed to my feet and ran away from the scene. I ran down a ravine, sliding slightly, dizziness from the lack of blood taking over, and finding I had to resort to walking. Attempting to calm myself, I tried to expel the memory, exhaling deeply and trying to ignore the horrible feeling building in my stomach.
I grinded my teeth together so hard I'm surprised they didn't break then.
I was humiliated. I'd walked into that scene and I stayed. I was unimportant to him in that moment, and although it made sense in my head that I couldn't occupy his mind as much as he occupied mine, there was a horrible feeling, burning like bile in my esophagus.
But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that I wanted to go back and be humiliated some more.
Things had never seemed so duplicitous before.
I can't remember ever feeling so horrid, but not in the way you might think. I wasn't sad, and I didn't feel betrayed. I was angry. Angry I had to walk into the scene. Angry I half wanted to go back. Angry with the boys for asking me to go in the first place.
I wasn't aware of Pan and Tiger Lily before that point, but the knowledge did act as the final puzzle piece and everything seemed to make sense. All the little comments. How she was always the one to translate. All the times he'd disappear to "say hello to a friend," as he called it. What it was exactly she had agreed to do before the boys came to Neverland.
It was disturbing to think of Pan undone like that. Especially since he'd been so far away.
Despite my anger, despite the hole in my chest where my heart should have been, I still wanted to know what it looked and felt like up close.
