Almost twenty-five years have passed since James left the magical island of Neverland. Twenty-five long years. The Protectors have split, leaving the Spirit of Neverland unprotected. Leaving Neverland to suffer alone. In Darkness.
In the span of twenty-five years, Neverland has become a dry, desert wasteland. It's once lush, green forests have gone dormant, fading into eternal autumn, their long branches growing gnarled and twisted. The sparkling waterfall and the surrounding river and streams have slowed to a trickle, leaving the island's ground parched and cracked. Dust storms frequent the island, whipping sand around mercilessly, filling the mouths of Neverland's inhabitants with grimy dirt, and leaving them caked with dust.
The wild beasts have turned ravenous in their hunger, growing more powerful and dangerous every passing year. Their savage souls had awakened after James left, and spurred them to thirst only for blood. They always hunt, stalking the island, through it's unruly dead jungles, a constant hunger paining their stomachs. Hair long, sweaty and shaggy, their teeth and claws sharper than a rose's thorn. They have become fierce predators, falling prisoner to their untamed feral instincts. The beasts never sleep.
The gypsy clan to which James belonged disappeared, shortly after he did, never to be seen again. They left in boats, by the dozen, leaving only their tattered huts and smoldering campfires behind. Some say they felt guilt for James' actions, others say that they were frightened of Neverland's Darkness.
Mermaids can be heard on some nights, far away from the shore, moaning hauntingly sad tunes. They cry, they mourn, for the death of their sister, Kira, whose death occurred so many moons ago. Since then, they have retreated under the waves, down deeper than any anchor can fathom, locking themselves into their castles made of shells and reeds, seeking refuge, waiting for salvation. The mermaids cry salty tears, because they know that the salvation they yearn for will never come.
On top of Big Cliff, tall, wooden stockades have been erected, for the Indian tribe has gone into hiding. They have built massive protective walls around their village of wigwams, either keeping something in…or keeping something out. Though drums can be heard at times, they never leave the stockades, and those who do, don't return. Their fires don't last for long.
The Lost Boys have dispersed, abandoning their grouping of tree houses in the forest. The ladders have fallen, crushed by the humongous paws of some wild beast, and their huts high above the ground are silent, deprived of the laughter that used to ring through the jungle at night. Not one of them dreams of anything but fear, and the murky, foreboding, Darkness.
The fairies have burrowed down deep into the dry, parched soil, unable to face the desperate state of Neverland. They evacuated their beautiful flowers, now left to wilt alone, shading their eyes with slender hands and gauzy wings. Their cowardice has proven themselves their true worth…their lights have extinguished. So have their bells.
Bella has lain, slumped in her solar, amidst the sacred Fae Realm, taking ragged breaths. Her mind drifts in and out of darkness, she dreams of nothing, and all hope has left her. She is in unceasing desolation, having nothing to hold onto, having no purpose to live. She is dying, alone.
And over these twenty-five years, James had taken something with him that is departing Neverland from it's existence. Youth. Every five years, the occupants of Neverland get one year older. They are dying. They are getting older, and older, and soon, they will disappear into the watery mists of dreamland, never to be dreamed again by any child as they sleep in their beds. Darkness envelops the island and all is quiet now. Dying alone.
Neverland is alone.
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Her bare feet lifted little pafs of dry dust off the ground as she made her way through the dead, decaying forest. She raised her slender arm above her head and squinted to shield her eyes from the sun. Gnarled branches reached out for her long black hair and tanned skinned body. She dodged their grasp, bringing herself back to the task at hand. Food.
Her stomach rumbled as she knelt down to inspect the imprints in the dust. Deer prints. And she was hot on her trail. She stood and darted off in the direction she thought the deer was going, lifting her knees high as to not tangle them in the dried vines that lay scattered on the ground. Then, suddenly, she sniffed the air, and her chocolate brown eyes darted quickly through the rotted trees. Tiger Lily was no fool. Something was following her. And it was no deer.
She whipped the bow and arrows from the strap on her back and held them at the ready. Searching the trees with her eyes, she listened for any kind of sound that would give away her pursuer. She heard nothing, and that was normal for these woods. Her heart almost pained at the memory of a time long since past when she used to play in this jungle when it was alive and green, listening to the fairies giggle and the mockingbirds sing. Tiger Lily could almost smell the sweet nectar from the gardenias that used to bloom everywhere in the jungle.
Shaking her head, she brought herself out of her reminiscence, once again straining her ears for the sound. But there was no time to check it out now. Her people were starving. Lowering her bow, she began her hunt again, keeping one eye on the faint deer tracks, and the other eye behind her. She stalked silently through the destroyed forest. It was only when she parted the fronds of a crispy brown fern that she saw her. She saw the deer she had been hunting, it's fine golden brown coat gleaming in the sunlight of the day. It would bring a lot of meat into the children's stomachs of her village.
Tiger Lily's mouth began to water, but her smile faded when she realized it was caught in a trap of it's own. A giant spider web stretched between two strong trees across her path, the silky white filigrees twisting and weaving into an intricate, and yet beautiful pattern. There were other small animals stuck to the thick threads of the web, and like the deer, they were frantically trying to get loose.
"Great Spirit," she breathed as she took a step towards the frenzied animals. The deer's eyes rolled wildly, froth flying from her open mouth, she started to thrash and whimper loudly. Tiger Lily raised her hand as if to prove that she meant no harm, "Quiet Deer, I help…"
The deer thrashed once more, then quieted, understanding her good intentions and allowed her to come closer. She unsheathed the knife at her waist and began sawing at the deer's bonds. She gripped a thick filigree to brace herself as she tried to free the deer. Tiger Lily had cut away the threads around his head, and took her hand away to move down to the legs. A sticky, stringy, substance stuck to her hands when she pulled her hand away from the web, and frightened, she took a step back.
She hit something furry, and solid.
Whipping around, Tiger Lily came eye to eyes with a monster of the forest. The beast was twice as tall as her, and it's black furry body was just about as wide. It had a large head, with dangerous pinchers that opened and closed, serving as a mouth. The beast had eight furry legs sprouting from it's monstrous body, and they were spread wide, giving Tiger Lily no chance of escape. And then it spoke.
"A human child in the forest?" the she-beast blinked her eight eyes in unison, fluttering her dark eyelashes, "Well, this is a treat…"
Her voice sounded like rock scraping against rock. Tiger Lily's face grew fierce as she raised her knife to defend herself, but just as she had arched her arm to stab at the she-beast, a furry leg flew across and swiped the knife, flinging it to the ground.
"Silly child," she spoke slowly, "You thought you could steal my dinner?" The she-beast shifted, lifted a leg, and pushed her back into the sticky web next to the thrashing deer. Tiger Lily struggled to free herself, but could not. The she-beast's dark eyelashes fluttered again as she blinked her many eyes, "Then, I shall have you too…"
The she-beast leaned forward, and opened her mouth, exposing her fangs dripping with dark violet venom. She sank her fangs into Tiger Lily's neck, paralyzing her, sending a cold chill throughout her body. Tiger Lily's head began to spin, everything became just colors, and moving shapes. Sounds seemed duller, and the scent of the deer next to her became warped and twisted, the deer reeked of death.
Then Tiger Lily's world became suddenly dark. Darker than the Darkness of Neverland.