AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is picking up where Kimberly Appelcline's "The
First Kiss" fanfic leaves off (you can find the fic on this very site),
somewhere halfway through the epilogue. Kimberly's story, in turn, is a
continuation of P.J. Hogan's movie Peter Pan, which is of course a version
of J.M. Barrie's novel Peter Pan, which is in itself a sequel (of sorts) to
Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens (also by Barrie - which can be read at
gutenberg.net). Confused yet? ;-)
Wow, I stumbled upon some MAJOR writer's block here! I knew what I wanted to happen, but had a helluva time trying to get there! Whew! Hope it's not too obvious!
So, here's Chapter XIV......More comments please! (
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XIV. WICKED MAN
It was well-known throughout Neverland and in nursery bedtime stories everywhere that Captain Hook was quite a connoisseur of poisons and elixirs. He collected them as you and I might collect stamps or teacups. He preserved them all under tight lock-and-key within a cabinet in his quarters, but he always carried one or two vials on his person whenever venturing out, lest they should come to his advantage.
Creating the poisons was a tricky business, but it was one which Hook took to with much zeal. It was his most favorite hobby, and the impending results of a truly fine toxin made all the labor quite worthwhile. His test subjects consisted mainly of his own men on board the ship. He would delight in slipping them drops of his latest concoction into their grog and watch with sinister glee the effects take shape. If the poison did not work or presented a different result from the one intended, Hook would simply dispose of the lab rat pirate and return to the drawing board. And if the poison did work, well, he would still dispose of the pirate.
This macabre recreation of Hook's picked up pace considerably once he took over Neverland, for he now had more free reign to indulge in it. His first new fabrication in the Era of Hook was created shortly after Peter Pan left. He collected the leaves that had caught the tears of fairies who had been weeping at Peter's departure. This was a valuable find, for most potent of all are those poisons fashioned from fairies. And so, he distilled the tears into an elixir that rendered its victim completely and irrefutably loyal to whomever bestowed it upon them. The effects lasted – barring a proper antidote from the fairies themselves – for all eternity.
And it was this elixir that stood before Anthony Pan most menacingly in Hook's cabin. The boy was bound, from head to toe, to a chair before Hook's desk. Indeed, not a thing, save for Hook's own good graces, could free Anthony from those trusses. And Hook had very few good graces.
The pirates had been enlisted to keep close watch over the Pan family that day, and they were able to report back to Hook the exact location of Anthony's new underground lair. When they arrived at the home that evening to find Wendy and Peter quite occupied with other endeavors up in the treetops, they blessed their good fortune and proceeded with their dastardly plan to abduct the child. Hook only attended so as to scrawl the cryptic message upon the tree wall, entreating Peter and Wendy to meet him at Blind Man's Bluff at midnight if they should want to see their son again.
Anthony could hear the evil pirate come into the cabin from behind him, slowly and deliberately – he always liked to make an entrance. He circled around the boy toward the other side of his desk, tossing him a triumphant grin and cradling his Hook in his good hand.
"So," he began, "You are Peter Pan's son."
Anthony was gagged tightly and could not reply. But even if he had been able to speak, he would not have known quite how to answer. Was Hook referring to the Game? Or was he privy to some extra special authority in knowing that Mr. Peter truly and most definitely WAS his father? Ultimately, Anthony simply nodded and shrugged – a perfectly ambiguous response (or so he thought). He knew not why Hook would even care.
Hook smiled condescendingly, believing this answer to be a noncommittal though resounding Yes. "How charming." He sat on the edge of his desk in front of the boy. "Will he be staying long?"
Anthony shook his head.
Hook raised an eyebrow. "But he will come back to visit you often?"
Anthony's eyes lowered sadly. Again, he shook his head.
Hook feigned disgust. "Leaving his own son behind forever, even after such a lovely day spent together? How dreadful!"
Anthony had never thought of it that way before, and he looked up at the pirate with wary eyes.
"I have been told that you were raised in Kensington Gardens, and that your father is also employed there."
Anthony stayed still, not knowing where Hook was going with this. He hadn't previously known his father was ever in the park, let alone as an employee.
"And yet," he continued, raising his Hook to his chin, "in three whole years, he never once saw you. Never happened upon your existence there at all when you were right under his nose the whole time. Hm, isn't that strange..."
This suggestion made Anthony quite uncomfortable. It was a fair assessment – if Peter truly was in the park as often as this, surely he would have discovered Anthony's presence at some point. Wouldn't he?
"And then, after *finally* catching onto your whereabouts, he pops in but for a spot of tea and then runs off again after only one day. Does that not strike you as peculiar?"
Indeed, it did sound rather curious to Anthony, but he had never really been one to question what lay in the hearts of grown-ups.
Hook sighed nonchalantly. "Well, I suppose he thought it the courteous thing to do, to at least acknowledge your existence, without giving a single thought to the consequences."
Anthony's brow furrowed as if to ask, "What consequences?"
Hook caught on. "Peter has a terrible memory, my boy. He is known for it. Once he is gone from here, he will most assuredly forget about you just as easily as he did before in Kensington Gardens. This whole experience will quickly cease to weigh on his soul. But were, pray tell, shall that leave *you*?"
What Anthony did not understand was that his own memory was in far worse shape than Peter's. More than likely, he would forget about Peter long before Peter forgot about him. But he could not anticipate this. His innocent mind could only comprehend the here-and-now. And now, he was contemplating Hook's ominous notion that, if he did go to visit Peter and Wendy where they lived, would they truly no longer remember him? Reason eluded him, for he was still far too young to grasp such concepts, and so he could only absorb Hook's words at their raw face value.
The captain leaned in closer to Anthony. "Soon, you shall be all alone again. But it does not have to always be so." His hand moved stealthily behind him, angled toward his vial of potion. "Now, I will ask you one more time, and you must think carefully before you answer: Will you join my crew and become a part of all that truly rules Neverland?"
This was not a difficult decision at which to arrive for Anthony. Indeed, he did not care for the idea of being all by himself again, but he would sooner be alone for all of eternity than join up with the cruelest man history had hence known. In fact, he would almost rather die than to have to live in a Neverland frozen over with bitterness and malice. And with that in mind, he flicked a proud eyebrow at the captain and gallantly shook his head.
Hook was not altogether surprised at this response, which is why his expression changed little upon receiving it. He merely stood back up and discreetly motioned toward one of his men. In the blink of an eye, Anthony's gag was off and his head locked within a pirate's iron grip.
At long last, Hook lifted the tiny vial of the fairy potion on his desk and unclasped the top. And with a cruel sneer, he slowly drew upon Anthony...
* * * *
Peter and Wendy did not wait until midnight before arriving at Blind Man's Bluff. The moment they laid eyes upon the crudely carved message within the walls of Anthony's home, they made frenzied haste toward the seaside location.
The Bluff was a large mass of rock and hardened coral situated quite near Mermaid's Lagoon, extending out from the jungle. During the daytime, traditionally, the waves of the ocean would crash into the Bluff most fiercely, kicking up all sorts of rock and coral particles which had been known to blind many a careless fisherman, hence it's portentous name. At night, however, the Bluff lay eerily quiet.
Peter and Wendy sat upon the rocks of the Bluff and said nothing. And they needn't have, for they were both thinking the same thing. What had they done? How could they have been so careless? Somehow, their own prophecy of letting personal pleasure distract them from the needs of their son had been fulfilled. They should have waited. They should have known.
They had no way to measure time on the island – midnight could have been minutes or hours away depending on whom you asked – so they figured it best to venture to the Bluff straight away, and there they waited. I daresay not a word was exchanged between the weary couple, as if simply speaking to one another may incite some further dastardly deed to occur right under their noses. And so they remained silent, keeping their tired eyes peeled for any sign of Hook or Anthony.
Peter could start to feel his eyelids growing heavy when he heard a faint rustling within the bushes to their right. His mind became alert once again, and he and Wendy sprang up from whence they sat and faced the source of the noise. They could see several spots of light heading towards them and a hint of hushed conversations. Pretty soon, they were standing face-to- face with a small army of pirates, each leering at them through the glow of their lanterns.
And then a voice from behind them: "Right on time."
Peter and Wendy spun around to see Hook quite unguarded on the other side of the brush standing closely behind Anthony. Peter wanted to just run to him but resisted. He thought Anthony to have a rather queer look about his face, as if he was sleeping with his eyes open. Even more curious, Hook had his good hand resting lightly on the boy's shoulder, whilst his claw lay quite a distance from the boy at all, propped up on Hook's hip.
Hook himself appeared rather festive. He was dressed most ceremoniously, from top to tails. But his most conspicuous accessory was the sneer he wore. Peter's jaw tightened at the mere sight of his once mortal enemy.
"Peter, my boy," Hook said rather cheerily, "So lovely to see you again."
Peter remained mum, though it took every ounce of strength within him.
Hook allowed his eyes to drift past Peter and onto his wife, standing so erect and lovely against the moonlight. His grin widened and changed vaguely from one of malice to wistfulness. "Hello, Wendy, darling."
The sound of her name awash with his velveteen voice sent a small but undeniable shiver down Wendy's spine. She strived to ignore it. But Hook saw it clearly.
"Give him to me," Peter demanded, stepping in front of Wendy.
Hook snorted. "Patience, dear lad. Wouldn't you like to catch up a little first?"
"What do you want, Hook?" said Peter through gritted teeth.
Hook raised his eyebrows as if surprised by the question. "'Want'? 'Want', you say? Well, I'm not entirely sure. What do *you* want, Pan?"
"Stop playing games with me. You know what I want!"
Hook pretended to be pondering this statement. "I am wondering what *Anthony* might want."
Peter looked puzzled.
"Maybe we ought to ask him, shall we?" Hook bent slightly toward Anthony's ear. The boy had not moved a muscle the whole time. "Anthony, it appears these two people mean to take you away."
Without so much as a blink, Anthony said in a most mechanical tone, "But I don't want to go."
Hook straightened with a satisfied smile and gestured to Peter for his reaction.
The Elder Pan and his wife were completely baffled.
"There, you see?" Hook said, "He does not want to leave. 'Tis good enough for me. How about you, Pan?"
Peter could feel himself getting hot with rage, and he stared daggers at the old pirate. "What have you done to him?"
"'Done'?" Hook chuckled amiably. "Whatever could *I* do to one so proud and pigheaded as your son? A chip off the old block he is!"
"You pathetic, demented old man," Peter snarled. "You've had enough of your twisted little fun. Tell me at once what you want or else hand over the boy."
Hook was no longer grinning. Now he looked rather indifferent. "Is that all, Peter? No empty threats? No gallant ultimatums?" he scoffed. "Well, then by all means..." – he lifted his hand from off Anthony's shoulder – "If you want him, come and take him."
Peter instantly made a move toward him, but Wendy grasped his arm. "No, Peter, it's a trick!"
"Let go." Peter wrestled his arm free from her grip and continued on in his rush toward Anthony. Hook remained completely still as Peter approached like a ram on the charge.
"Peter!" Wendy shouted one last time, but it was too late.
Peter was mere inches from Anthony when, suddenly, Hook threw the boy aside, and Peter met with nothing more than Hook's iron claw penetrating deep within his abdomen.
Wendy let loose such a wail as to shake the entire island. But before she could do much else, she was pounced upon by several pirates behind her, attempting to drag her off into the jungle. Anthony too, was quickly escorted off the Bluff until only Hook and Peter remained.
Peter stood frozen on the other end of Hook's claw, staring deeply at the captain's eyes as they glowed blood-red. He couldn't breath, couldn't think, couldn't speak...He could only manage to cast a look of pure unbridled hatred upon the wicked pirate. This in turn only fueled Hook's triumphant ecstasy, and with a mighty flick of the wrist, he gouged his hook deeper into Peter's gut, turning it in the opposite direction and drinking in the unbearable agony it caused his victim.
Peter could stay upright no longer, and he began to wilt downwards. With his last ounce of strength, he was able to fling a hand upon Hook's shoulder. Hook reacted swiftly to this last attempt at resistance by bringing his boot up to Peter's lowered chest and kicking him away from his hook.
Peter collapsed hard upon the rocks below, grasping frantically for air. Hook calmly retrieved a handkerchief from within his sleeve and began to meticulously wipe the blood and entrails off his hook as he strode over to where Peter lay.
He loomed over the fallen hero like Death himself, his eyes, once again blue and twinkling, settling upon a small, withered flower sitting atop Peter's chest. Draping his handkerchief over his hook, the captain crouched down, and with one swift and heartless flick of the wrist, tore the sacred little lily from Peter's neck.
"Everything you ever had, Pan," Hook taunted, "Everything you ever loved – Neverland, your son, even your adoring wife – They are all mine now."
With that, Hook rose and pitilessly tossed the soiled handkerchief upon Peter's assaulted body. And like some demonic spirit, he disappeared once again into the blackness, leaving Peter to the merciless and inevitable daytime waves upon the Bluff.
Wow, I stumbled upon some MAJOR writer's block here! I knew what I wanted to happen, but had a helluva time trying to get there! Whew! Hope it's not too obvious!
So, here's Chapter XIV......More comments please! (
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XIV. WICKED MAN
It was well-known throughout Neverland and in nursery bedtime stories everywhere that Captain Hook was quite a connoisseur of poisons and elixirs. He collected them as you and I might collect stamps or teacups. He preserved them all under tight lock-and-key within a cabinet in his quarters, but he always carried one or two vials on his person whenever venturing out, lest they should come to his advantage.
Creating the poisons was a tricky business, but it was one which Hook took to with much zeal. It was his most favorite hobby, and the impending results of a truly fine toxin made all the labor quite worthwhile. His test subjects consisted mainly of his own men on board the ship. He would delight in slipping them drops of his latest concoction into their grog and watch with sinister glee the effects take shape. If the poison did not work or presented a different result from the one intended, Hook would simply dispose of the lab rat pirate and return to the drawing board. And if the poison did work, well, he would still dispose of the pirate.
This macabre recreation of Hook's picked up pace considerably once he took over Neverland, for he now had more free reign to indulge in it. His first new fabrication in the Era of Hook was created shortly after Peter Pan left. He collected the leaves that had caught the tears of fairies who had been weeping at Peter's departure. This was a valuable find, for most potent of all are those poisons fashioned from fairies. And so, he distilled the tears into an elixir that rendered its victim completely and irrefutably loyal to whomever bestowed it upon them. The effects lasted – barring a proper antidote from the fairies themselves – for all eternity.
And it was this elixir that stood before Anthony Pan most menacingly in Hook's cabin. The boy was bound, from head to toe, to a chair before Hook's desk. Indeed, not a thing, save for Hook's own good graces, could free Anthony from those trusses. And Hook had very few good graces.
The pirates had been enlisted to keep close watch over the Pan family that day, and they were able to report back to Hook the exact location of Anthony's new underground lair. When they arrived at the home that evening to find Wendy and Peter quite occupied with other endeavors up in the treetops, they blessed their good fortune and proceeded with their dastardly plan to abduct the child. Hook only attended so as to scrawl the cryptic message upon the tree wall, entreating Peter and Wendy to meet him at Blind Man's Bluff at midnight if they should want to see their son again.
Anthony could hear the evil pirate come into the cabin from behind him, slowly and deliberately – he always liked to make an entrance. He circled around the boy toward the other side of his desk, tossing him a triumphant grin and cradling his Hook in his good hand.
"So," he began, "You are Peter Pan's son."
Anthony was gagged tightly and could not reply. But even if he had been able to speak, he would not have known quite how to answer. Was Hook referring to the Game? Or was he privy to some extra special authority in knowing that Mr. Peter truly and most definitely WAS his father? Ultimately, Anthony simply nodded and shrugged – a perfectly ambiguous response (or so he thought). He knew not why Hook would even care.
Hook smiled condescendingly, believing this answer to be a noncommittal though resounding Yes. "How charming." He sat on the edge of his desk in front of the boy. "Will he be staying long?"
Anthony shook his head.
Hook raised an eyebrow. "But he will come back to visit you often?"
Anthony's eyes lowered sadly. Again, he shook his head.
Hook feigned disgust. "Leaving his own son behind forever, even after such a lovely day spent together? How dreadful!"
Anthony had never thought of it that way before, and he looked up at the pirate with wary eyes.
"I have been told that you were raised in Kensington Gardens, and that your father is also employed there."
Anthony stayed still, not knowing where Hook was going with this. He hadn't previously known his father was ever in the park, let alone as an employee.
"And yet," he continued, raising his Hook to his chin, "in three whole years, he never once saw you. Never happened upon your existence there at all when you were right under his nose the whole time. Hm, isn't that strange..."
This suggestion made Anthony quite uncomfortable. It was a fair assessment – if Peter truly was in the park as often as this, surely he would have discovered Anthony's presence at some point. Wouldn't he?
"And then, after *finally* catching onto your whereabouts, he pops in but for a spot of tea and then runs off again after only one day. Does that not strike you as peculiar?"
Indeed, it did sound rather curious to Anthony, but he had never really been one to question what lay in the hearts of grown-ups.
Hook sighed nonchalantly. "Well, I suppose he thought it the courteous thing to do, to at least acknowledge your existence, without giving a single thought to the consequences."
Anthony's brow furrowed as if to ask, "What consequences?"
Hook caught on. "Peter has a terrible memory, my boy. He is known for it. Once he is gone from here, he will most assuredly forget about you just as easily as he did before in Kensington Gardens. This whole experience will quickly cease to weigh on his soul. But were, pray tell, shall that leave *you*?"
What Anthony did not understand was that his own memory was in far worse shape than Peter's. More than likely, he would forget about Peter long before Peter forgot about him. But he could not anticipate this. His innocent mind could only comprehend the here-and-now. And now, he was contemplating Hook's ominous notion that, if he did go to visit Peter and Wendy where they lived, would they truly no longer remember him? Reason eluded him, for he was still far too young to grasp such concepts, and so he could only absorb Hook's words at their raw face value.
The captain leaned in closer to Anthony. "Soon, you shall be all alone again. But it does not have to always be so." His hand moved stealthily behind him, angled toward his vial of potion. "Now, I will ask you one more time, and you must think carefully before you answer: Will you join my crew and become a part of all that truly rules Neverland?"
This was not a difficult decision at which to arrive for Anthony. Indeed, he did not care for the idea of being all by himself again, but he would sooner be alone for all of eternity than join up with the cruelest man history had hence known. In fact, he would almost rather die than to have to live in a Neverland frozen over with bitterness and malice. And with that in mind, he flicked a proud eyebrow at the captain and gallantly shook his head.
Hook was not altogether surprised at this response, which is why his expression changed little upon receiving it. He merely stood back up and discreetly motioned toward one of his men. In the blink of an eye, Anthony's gag was off and his head locked within a pirate's iron grip.
At long last, Hook lifted the tiny vial of the fairy potion on his desk and unclasped the top. And with a cruel sneer, he slowly drew upon Anthony...
* * * *
Peter and Wendy did not wait until midnight before arriving at Blind Man's Bluff. The moment they laid eyes upon the crudely carved message within the walls of Anthony's home, they made frenzied haste toward the seaside location.
The Bluff was a large mass of rock and hardened coral situated quite near Mermaid's Lagoon, extending out from the jungle. During the daytime, traditionally, the waves of the ocean would crash into the Bluff most fiercely, kicking up all sorts of rock and coral particles which had been known to blind many a careless fisherman, hence it's portentous name. At night, however, the Bluff lay eerily quiet.
Peter and Wendy sat upon the rocks of the Bluff and said nothing. And they needn't have, for they were both thinking the same thing. What had they done? How could they have been so careless? Somehow, their own prophecy of letting personal pleasure distract them from the needs of their son had been fulfilled. They should have waited. They should have known.
They had no way to measure time on the island – midnight could have been minutes or hours away depending on whom you asked – so they figured it best to venture to the Bluff straight away, and there they waited. I daresay not a word was exchanged between the weary couple, as if simply speaking to one another may incite some further dastardly deed to occur right under their noses. And so they remained silent, keeping their tired eyes peeled for any sign of Hook or Anthony.
Peter could start to feel his eyelids growing heavy when he heard a faint rustling within the bushes to their right. His mind became alert once again, and he and Wendy sprang up from whence they sat and faced the source of the noise. They could see several spots of light heading towards them and a hint of hushed conversations. Pretty soon, they were standing face-to- face with a small army of pirates, each leering at them through the glow of their lanterns.
And then a voice from behind them: "Right on time."
Peter and Wendy spun around to see Hook quite unguarded on the other side of the brush standing closely behind Anthony. Peter wanted to just run to him but resisted. He thought Anthony to have a rather queer look about his face, as if he was sleeping with his eyes open. Even more curious, Hook had his good hand resting lightly on the boy's shoulder, whilst his claw lay quite a distance from the boy at all, propped up on Hook's hip.
Hook himself appeared rather festive. He was dressed most ceremoniously, from top to tails. But his most conspicuous accessory was the sneer he wore. Peter's jaw tightened at the mere sight of his once mortal enemy.
"Peter, my boy," Hook said rather cheerily, "So lovely to see you again."
Peter remained mum, though it took every ounce of strength within him.
Hook allowed his eyes to drift past Peter and onto his wife, standing so erect and lovely against the moonlight. His grin widened and changed vaguely from one of malice to wistfulness. "Hello, Wendy, darling."
The sound of her name awash with his velveteen voice sent a small but undeniable shiver down Wendy's spine. She strived to ignore it. But Hook saw it clearly.
"Give him to me," Peter demanded, stepping in front of Wendy.
Hook snorted. "Patience, dear lad. Wouldn't you like to catch up a little first?"
"What do you want, Hook?" said Peter through gritted teeth.
Hook raised his eyebrows as if surprised by the question. "'Want'? 'Want', you say? Well, I'm not entirely sure. What do *you* want, Pan?"
"Stop playing games with me. You know what I want!"
Hook pretended to be pondering this statement. "I am wondering what *Anthony* might want."
Peter looked puzzled.
"Maybe we ought to ask him, shall we?" Hook bent slightly toward Anthony's ear. The boy had not moved a muscle the whole time. "Anthony, it appears these two people mean to take you away."
Without so much as a blink, Anthony said in a most mechanical tone, "But I don't want to go."
Hook straightened with a satisfied smile and gestured to Peter for his reaction.
The Elder Pan and his wife were completely baffled.
"There, you see?" Hook said, "He does not want to leave. 'Tis good enough for me. How about you, Pan?"
Peter could feel himself getting hot with rage, and he stared daggers at the old pirate. "What have you done to him?"
"'Done'?" Hook chuckled amiably. "Whatever could *I* do to one so proud and pigheaded as your son? A chip off the old block he is!"
"You pathetic, demented old man," Peter snarled. "You've had enough of your twisted little fun. Tell me at once what you want or else hand over the boy."
Hook was no longer grinning. Now he looked rather indifferent. "Is that all, Peter? No empty threats? No gallant ultimatums?" he scoffed. "Well, then by all means..." – he lifted his hand from off Anthony's shoulder – "If you want him, come and take him."
Peter instantly made a move toward him, but Wendy grasped his arm. "No, Peter, it's a trick!"
"Let go." Peter wrestled his arm free from her grip and continued on in his rush toward Anthony. Hook remained completely still as Peter approached like a ram on the charge.
"Peter!" Wendy shouted one last time, but it was too late.
Peter was mere inches from Anthony when, suddenly, Hook threw the boy aside, and Peter met with nothing more than Hook's iron claw penetrating deep within his abdomen.
Wendy let loose such a wail as to shake the entire island. But before she could do much else, she was pounced upon by several pirates behind her, attempting to drag her off into the jungle. Anthony too, was quickly escorted off the Bluff until only Hook and Peter remained.
Peter stood frozen on the other end of Hook's claw, staring deeply at the captain's eyes as they glowed blood-red. He couldn't breath, couldn't think, couldn't speak...He could only manage to cast a look of pure unbridled hatred upon the wicked pirate. This in turn only fueled Hook's triumphant ecstasy, and with a mighty flick of the wrist, he gouged his hook deeper into Peter's gut, turning it in the opposite direction and drinking in the unbearable agony it caused his victim.
Peter could stay upright no longer, and he began to wilt downwards. With his last ounce of strength, he was able to fling a hand upon Hook's shoulder. Hook reacted swiftly to this last attempt at resistance by bringing his boot up to Peter's lowered chest and kicking him away from his hook.
Peter collapsed hard upon the rocks below, grasping frantically for air. Hook calmly retrieved a handkerchief from within his sleeve and began to meticulously wipe the blood and entrails off his hook as he strode over to where Peter lay.
He loomed over the fallen hero like Death himself, his eyes, once again blue and twinkling, settling upon a small, withered flower sitting atop Peter's chest. Draping his handkerchief over his hook, the captain crouched down, and with one swift and heartless flick of the wrist, tore the sacred little lily from Peter's neck.
"Everything you ever had, Pan," Hook taunted, "Everything you ever loved – Neverland, your son, even your adoring wife – They are all mine now."
With that, Hook rose and pitilessly tossed the soiled handkerchief upon Peter's assaulted body. And like some demonic spirit, he disappeared once again into the blackness, leaving Peter to the merciless and inevitable daytime waves upon the Bluff.