Immortal shadows
Authors notes: I hold no claims to any of the characters. This is just an idea I got in my head on a boring day at school. Reviews welcome. Flames only keep me warm in winter.
Warnings: Rated PG-13 for horror, violence, and supernatural elements. Might contain mild sexual content later on.
Chapter One
London, June 6th, 1666. An attractive youth clad in fashionable attire of olive green made his way through the dimly lit streets. It was after dark but the streets were not silent. Rather, they seemed noisier now than they had during the day. Drunk and homeless people singing in tuneless voices on the streets. Groups of the higher-class making their way to social events. Working women standing at the corners of shops, exposing their cleavage and making suggestive comments at nearly every man who passed by. They were, the boy noted with a small smile, successful most of the time.
"Master Peter!" One of the younger ones breathed as he passed by. He smiled at her.
"Marjorie. How nice to see you!" He was well acquainted with the workingwomen of London. In fact, he was well acquainted with many people in London, both higher and lower class. His Father was one of the highly respected members of London's upper-class society and would have been ashamed as well as angered if he knew of Peter's connections with the lower class women of London.
"Feel like some fun tonight, darling?" Marjorie pouted like the child she nearly was, exposing her cleavage for him. She was handsome with red curls tumbling to her shoulders, high, strongly defined cheekbones and deep brown eyes that had already lost their innocence. Peter had spent many a merry night in a feather bed with this young lady. Yet, for some unknown reason, tonight he found himself refusing her tempting offer and continuing on with his walk.
Tonight was Peter's 16th Birthday, but he was troubled. All his life, Peter had been a spoilt child. His Father was able to supply him with all the luxuries that most were unable to afford, such as a beautiful house, a governess, expensive foreign clothing and exotic foods. The Pan family had never been in debt to anybody and was envied by many. So why was he troubled?
Peter was troubled because he knew that one day his Father would retire from his job and call on Peter to become the breadwinner of the family. Peter would have to work hard in order to receive money and this was not something he desired to do. Peter had no desire to earn his luxurious life as the adults of his society did. He had no desire to work hard or to grow old.
Peter was so lost in his train of thoughts that he did not notice the tall, cloaked figure before him. Quite suddenly, he collided with it and nearly fell over.
"Excuse me!" He snarled, dusting himself off. He waited for the figure to either run away in shock or to apologize. It did neither but instead just remained still. Peter could see its eyes under the hood, bright like sweltering jewels.
"Thou art Peter Pan." It was a statement, not a question. Peter narrowed his emerald eyes in suspicion, forgetting his anger.
"Who might thou be and how dost thou know of me?"
"Tis unimportant right now." Replied the figure. Its voice was smooth and deep, obviously masculine. "What is important is what I can do for thee."
"I have everything a young man could ever desire and more." Peter sneered. The figure laughed, shaking his hooded head.
"You lie, Master Pan. I read thy thoughts and I see thou art unable to obtain thy deepest desires."
"Oh? And wouldst thou be caring to tell me exactly what my deepest desires are?"
"Of course." The figure beckoned for Peter to move closer. Hesitant, Peter inched closer and hissed in pain when long, skeletal fingers gripped his arm. When the figure spoke again, his smooth, deep voice had dropped to an eerie whisper.
"Thou never wishes to age. Every night, thou lie awake in thine expensive feather bed and fantasize of flying underneath the stars. Thou hast no wish to work as many others, including the peasants, must do. According to thee, every night and day should be lived as if it is thy final day on this Earth. And it must be eternally that way. And I have the power within me to grant those wishes, Peter."
"Nonsense! Thou art but a lowly beggar-man from the slums of London!" Peter hissed, trying to mask the fear and disclosure welling up within him.
"Tis untrue." Replied the figure. "I dost not lie to thee, Peter Pan. I have power within me to grant thy wishes with one motion as I have done for many others." His voice had gone back to its smooth, deep tone and for the first time, Peter found himself believing the cloaked figure before him.
"Very well then, I question thee no longer." He answered steadily. "And I shall allow thee to grant mine own wishes, but only on one condition. I needst to know who thou art and what of thy appearance. Twould put me more at ease if I knew of thy name and appearance."
Peter waited, not quite knowing what to expect. To his surprise, the figure laughed, and it was a strangely pleasant noise coming from the mysterious-looking figure.
"Oh yes, that is rather ill-mannered of me. Very well then, allow me to introduce myself." The figure bowed low, removing his cloak at the same time. "My name is Lucifer Octavius Hooks, Hooks to my companions." And for the first time Peter saw the face of the man who would be his teacher and mentor for many years to come. He was a slender man, nicely dressed in a black suite with red trim. His hair, sleek and dark as the night was tied back with a strip of ruby silk. His skin was ashen in appearance and contrasted strangely with his ruby eyes and dark hair.
There was something swirling within the depths of those eyes that Peter didn't like. Deep within him, his conscience screamed 'Run away! Run from this man before it is too late!' but it was being buried by something else; desire. This man claimed he could grant Peter's deepest wishes, something that not even his wealthy, aristocratic parents were capable of doing. Slowly, he extended a hand towards Hooks in order to seal their agreement with a handshake.
Instead, Hooks used this gesture to his advantage, pulling the slightly built youth into his arms. Peter opened his mouth to protest but instead found himself screaming in shock and pain as Hooks newly acquired fangs buried themselves in the flesh at the bottom of his neck. The pain doubled along with a sickening sucking noise and Peter moaned weakly as Hooks continued to drain his blood. Then everything went black.