Damnation, Salvation, Fire and Steel

Part Three: Metamorphosis

3/4

He is coming.

Shadows skipped between dark trees, long dead and rotting. Willow trees, ancient as the sky and sun, fluttered their branches as they whispered harshly together of dark times. Elongated arms swung in a strange rhythm as the shadow people danced about, eyes gleaming with an inner flame as tendrils of mist skimmed across horribly morphed bodies, crumbling to dust from the poison within them.

He is coming.

Footprints in the sand guided those who had lost their way into a mass of shadows that resembled a disgusting orgy. Black blood squeezed out of cracks in the tree's bark, swelling into fat drops before slipping down to puddle on the ground. Human entrails were strung across branches, like teenagers had attacked on Devil's Night and thrown toilet paper across everything in their path.

He is coming.

At the base of the trees, large piles of human and animal innards bubbled and popped, boiling atop some unseen fire. Insects gathered around the piles, waving their skinny, black legs around as though they were beseeching the gods. The squelch of tiny mouths ripping chunks of flesh from bodies hanging in the trees permeated the air, and the stench of fresh corpses swelled like a balloon until it became unbearable.

He is coming.

Somewhere in the darkness, babies were shrieking. Hidden in the darkest shadows, they wailed as their eyes bulged nastily and popped out of their sockets, hanging from thin strings to bounce against naked, lacerated chests. Malformed bones jutted out from bloated flesh as the babies swarmed over each other, sobbing.

He is coming.

Slightly hung spread-eagle from a particularly large willow, his wrists and ankles bound by entrails to the tree. The slick feel of blood was at his back, while more entrails and pieces of human anatomy dangled from nails hammered into the bark around him, draping across his body like some sick sort of clothing.

He is coming.

Half-lidded eyes stared into the shadows, pupils shrunk to pinpoints to reveal terrified green orbs. Blonde hair, matted with blood and other such nastiness, hung heavily around his face, knotted beyond simple repair.

He is coming.

Slightly couldn't remember if anything had happened between the time he had been sucked out the window and woke up tied to the tree. All he knew was that he had opened his eyes to find himself in this situation, and he didn't like it one little bit.

It didn't help that the tree was talking to him, either. Its voice was low and scratchy as it told him the same thing over and over again, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the tree to elaborate on what it was muttering about.

He is coming.

Tears slipped down Slightly's cheeks as he tried, again, to free himself from the entrails binding him. He didn't know what they were as he had never seen the insides of a human body before, but they smelled and looked gross and he hated how they felt so slick and puffy on the tender skin of his wrists. Not to mention they were seeping blood. Blood was something he had seen, and recognized, and the thought that it was all over him, dripping down his helpless body, made him want to scream.

He is coming.

Whatever happened to his mother? And Mungojerrie? He opened the window, he aired out the room! He did what they had told him to do so why was this horror still happening? Why couldn't he just wake up?

He is coming to find you.

Oh, now that was different. Slightly shivered as the tree groaned and shifted a bit, as though it were uneasy. Couldn't the stupid tree be a little more helpful than that?

He is coming for you.

Oh, goodie, Slightly thought sarcastically. The tree does have a vocabulary.

You opened the window. He is coming.

"What?" Slightly whispered. The babies stopped screaming when he spoke, and for that he was just a tad grateful.

You shouldn't have opened the window.

"Mother said..."

You shouldn't have opened the window.

"But Mungojerrie..."

DOMINOES!

Slightly winced in pain as the tree suddenly heaved against him, stretching his body into an arch as its trunk bulged beyond its normal size. The boy whimpered.

He is coming.

Stupid tree said that already, Slightly thought inwardly, wishing he could wipe away his tears but afraid to get blood on his face.

The pond of Fate is rippling.

Oooh, now things are getting interesting. Slightly pulled against his bonds again, wincing as he felt the entrails rubbing against him.

You opened the window. You should not have dropped the stone.

Whaaa...?

He felt the ripple when you dropped the stone.

"What are you talking about?" the blonde cried angrily.

He is coming.

"Shut up!"

He...

"Shut up!"

...is coming.

"SHUT-"

A cold breeze swept through the trees, bringing a terrible sense of foreboding to Slightly's already-strained mind. He began to tremble as a dark presence made itself known somewhere in the woods, coming closer.

"Oh, no," he whispered, not knowing why he was so frightened, but knowing that if he was still stuck there when it reached the tree, he would be doomed. The fear of the unknown future thrust itself into the forefront of Slightly's mind, and he increased his struggles.

I have to get out of here...

He is nearing us.

I know that!

You should not have opened the window. He felt the ripple.

I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about.

We will not survive.

Who the heck are you anyway?

I am...

What?

I am One.

What does that mean!

You must flee.

Slightly grunted, terror continuing to grow in his heart as the dark presence rapidly approached. The air thrummed with the power it emitted, making the boy tremble.

Can't you help me?

It is not my place. Help yourself.

Jerk...

You have the power. I don't.

The boy blinked as a funky little light appeared in front of his nose. A tiny, almost imperceptible ball of sparkles that just hung there, seeming to watch him.

What...is that?

The beginning.

Slightly bit his lip. The beginning of what?

Everything.

You're slightly impossible!

Impossible is in the eye of he who has no power.

What is that supposed to mean?

The tree groaned suddenly, branches shifting around Slightly. The boy watched, fearfully, as they moved to surround the ball of light, urging it toward him. The light seemed to blink at him curiously, almost like it was studying him, sizing the boy up. Blood continued to ooze out of the crevices of the tree's bark, and it hissed.

He must not find you.

Slightly stared as the orb was pushed closer to him, until it was floating directly between his eyes, barely an inch away from his skin. I don't understand...

You will.

Grr...can't you make any sense! What is going on!

The little light flickered suddenly, and two strings spread out, like wings. Slightly gasped and stared as it floated to touch his face lightly, and a warm feeling spread throughout him.

When you wake, you will know more.

Slightly almost choked, blinking against the light the orb made. I'm dreaming!

To an extent. But this is more than just a dream.

How...?

The dark presence was closer than ever, and with its proximity, Slightly could hear a low roar rising. He wanted to cry.

Make it stop!

Take the light! The tree sounded almost worried now, its voice developing an odd accent. Take de light, before he takes you. Protect yourself.

Slightly didn't know how he was supposed to "take the light" or how in the hell he was supposed to "protect himself", but he figured that it was in his best interest and so he did the first thing that popped into his head.

He opened his mouth, tilted his head up and snapped the light into his mouth, swallowing it. It burned going down his throat, and in response he cried out in pain as everything in his head erupted into a blaze of white radiance. He felt the light settle in his stomach like a rock, and gasped as the tree suddenly shrieked and threw him forward.

Slightly yelped as the entrails that bound him released him, slipping off his body and leaving harsh streaks of blood on his skin. The world spun around him and distantly he heard an enraged roar, as the light in his belly exploded, singing through his veins and casting whatever was left of the blonde's conscious mind into a world where darkness couldn't touch.

Peter sighed, staring down at his hands as the scent of rum wafted into his nostrils. Well, he would be staring at them if he could see them - as it was, he was looking just off to the side of them. He could feel Hook's eyes on him, and though he didn't really want to tell the man everything that had happened when he was unconscious, he didn't have much of a choice. Hook was his only hope now, as much as he hated to admit it. Maybe the pirate could provide some comfort, even if it was only cold comfort.

He took a sip of rum, feeling his stomach start to warm up as it settled. His head felt light and no longer hurt. Maybe that's why adults liked rum so much, he mused blearily to himself. If it makes their aches go away. Even holding the cup calmed Peter a bit, and he didn't know why. "I remember...something inside me hurting...I remember starting to fall. I don't know what happened after that, until I was dreaming. But...it wasn't a dream. It was real."

He took another sip of the rum. Hook watched him closely, narrowing his eyes. "What happened, boy?"

Peter blinked, frowning down towards the glass. "I was stuck in a weird place. I couldn't move, could barely talk." His voice fell to a whisper. "I heard him. He started talking to me. He said such horrible things...and he showed them to me." Peter bit his lip, trembling a little. The alcohol was making him feel giddy, but talking about what he remembered was like reliving it, and forced the urge he had to giggle back. "He showed me what was going on with Slightly. He showed me my boys, and he showed me what he was going to do to Wendy." He paused. "Captain?"

"Yes?" Hook raised an eyebrow.

"He was...he showed me how he was gonna hurt her."

The man's eyes narrowed. "How?"

Peter only managed to whisper delicately what he saw, but Hook heard him. And what Hook heard sent his brain into a roiling frenzy. However, before he really had time to come up with a particularly nasty response on what he did to creatures who dishonoured a woman that way, Peter continued.

"He showed me Slightly...and Jukes. They were in the forest, and the birds were attacking them." He shuddered. "The birds all had these ugly slug things on their backs, and they were trying to peck Slightly and Jukes to death. There were so many...they couldn't get away. Slightly was hurt. Jukes tried to help him."

Momentarily surprised by this, the corner of Hook's mouth twitched. "Do you know if they still live?" he asked after a long silence.

"No." Peter shook his head. "He...would only show me so much."

"It explains why you were talking in your sleep," Hook mused, rubbing his chin against his knuckles. "And now I understand. Tell me, boy. What else happened?"

"He took the Indian village," Peter said solemnly, taking another sip of rum. He closed his eyes and his brow furrowed. "Great Big Little Panther, Tiger Lily and the others are...gone. They are under his power now." He opened his eyes, staring blindly out across the room. "Everyone...so many people are gone. He got to the dwarves...and they took the troll village down. He...he took my boys. They're under his control now. And...he got Wendy..."

Hook's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Has he done anything to her yet?" he asked evenly, barely restraining the urge to hunt this thing down and choke him. As evil as he could be, Hook would never - could never - dream of doing what Peter said this creature planned to do to Wendy. The very idea of it made the man's blood boil.

"I don't think so. He probably would have said so if he did, just to mock me," Peter said bitterly, gripping his cup tighter. "I hate him."

"My opinion isn't in his favour either," Hook muttered to himself. Then he looked at Peter again. "What else?"

"Lots of making fun of me, of hurting me," Peter replied, gritting his teeth. "He didn't show me a lot except what he planned to do." A slow smile crept at the boy's lips. "But I don't think he's as strong as he thinks he is."

Hook raised an eyebrow.

"Before I woke up...I had a dream. I saw someone." Peter chewed his lip, trying to remember the specifics. "He came through a window. I don't know how it got there, but he came through. And he stood there, and smiled at me. The monster started yelling, and tried to kill him. But..." Peter began to smile. "He couldn't. He couldn't even touch him. He was all shining, and the light was beautiful...he told me to go through the window and I'd be okay. He wouldn't let the monster get me. He promised." Peter's smile was firm, now. "I went through the window, and woke up."

He paused for a long moment. "Whatever he was, the monster was scared of him. I think."

"Interesting," Hook murmured after a short pause. He rubbed his knuckles against his chin again, deep in thought.

"Captain?"

Hook blinked, wondering at the boy's sudden politeness. "Yes, Pan?"

"I don't think we can beat him alone. The monster, I mean."

"Why do you say that?" Hook said, frowning.

"That person...I don't know, but I know he can't keep me safe from it all the time. Look around you...everything's gone wrong." Peter looked strangely serious, his hands still and no longer playing with his cup. "Maybe we shouldn't fight this time."

Hook looked completely flabbergasted. "What?"

"You and me...maybe this time...we shouldn't fight." Peter licked his lips. "There is something bigger going on. Our war is the least of it." He looked in Hook's general direction, his face a mask of utter seriousness.

"Are you telling me that you wish for a truce, Pan?" Hook asked in disbelief.

"Yes." Peter sighed, taking another sip of his rum. His shoulders shook a bit. "There are more important things than our fight. They need to be settled."

Hook frowned. The brat had a point. From outside, amidst the wind and the waves, he could hear his crew shouting in fury, beating down the mermaids as best they could. Cookson howled something in Greek and the sound of iron smashing against a skull as he brandished one of his frying pans could be heard clearly above everything else. There certainly were serious things going on, the man mused to himself. Perhaps the brat was right. Survival came first and foremost. He could kill Pan later.

"I concur, boy," Hook said after a moment. "For once, you may be right." He got to his feet and scowled. "We shall have a truce. I will spare your life until these times have ended. My men, nor I, will harm you until this is over. But once it is, I will sink my hook into your gullet."

Peter smiled. "Agreed, then." He finished off his cup and raised it up, suddenly smiling in a lopsided way. "I'd like some more rum, Captain, if you don't mind."

Icky sat with her back against a tree, gray eyes staring into a small fire she had built not too long ago. Arms crossed and tail folded across her legs, her ears flicked at every noise, muscles tense and ready to jump at any sign of approaching danger. Every few minutes her eyes would shift from the flames to Nibs, who lay near the fire, unconscious. His face was pale, and sweat lingered on his brow as his body shook minutely.

The werewolf wuffed quietly, noting the slight changes that had already begun on the boy. His hands, clenched as they were, were already beginning to sport tipped claws, and a light touch of blonde fur was growing on his knuckles. Not quite noticeable to the untrained eye, but Icky could see the transformation of human to werewolf beginning in the boy.

She didn't know whether to be glad that her idea worked or irritated that it did. After all, she didn't give much of a damn about the human. Why would she want him to be one of her kind? But then, Abura had asked her, in not so many words, to make sure the human got to the Were-Forest alive and in one piece. Though she didn't much care for Nibs, she had promised Abura. Her word was her bond.

Usually.

I should probably be out looking for wolfsbane, she thought idly to herself. Wolfsbane, she knew, was a plant that could counter the bite of a werewolf, and stop the transformation. If Nibs was given it in time, he wouldn't change. If, however, the timing just a bit off, he would change, and there would never be a chance to return to his normal form. He would be stuck as a werewolf forever.

So why aren't I looking for it? She thought with an inner growl. Oh, maybe because leaving him alone with an unconscious fairy in a forest full of enemies isn't really an option? Or...grr. Do I want him to become?

She shifted a bit in her position, eyes once again traveling to Nibs's face. She scowled at him. "Stupid human," she muttered. "I don't like you. I don't want you to be like me. You don't deserve it." She scowled some more as he flinched and moaned softly. "Not that you can hear me or anything, but I think you suck!"

She got to her feet and stared to pace around the fire, scuffing the ground purposely and tearing at it with her claws. "I hate humans. They're so weak. You are weak!" She stabbed a finger at the unconscious boy. "Why do you humans have to be so damn weak? If you had half the power my kind has, you wouldn't be so...so easy to kill! Or eat! You wouldn't be in this situation if you were like me!"

Her ears flattened against her skull as she growled viciously. "You suck!" she yelled suddenly at Nibs. "You are pathetic! Weak! No muscle on you! And you smell weird!" Now, at a loss for anything else insulting that she could yell, Icky started pacing again, growling to herself.

"I should go get the wolfsbane. Yes. I should. But I can't leave him alone. No, I can't. He's already started changing, and I have to stop it. But I can't leave him alone. Grrr, this whole thing stinks." She looked back at Nibs, whose face was twitching a bit. Blonde fur was growing around and in his ears, making them look tufted. His hands were slowly morphing into paw-like things, and a bulge was forming on his backside where a tail was beginning to sprout.

Icky scowled. "Why is it moving so fast?" she demanded loudly, becoming frustrated. "It never went this fast before!" There's not a lot of time...damn it, what do I do?

She cursed loudly, then suddenly spun and punched the nearest tree. It relieved some of her anger, but not all of it. "Damn!" Closing her eyes, Icky leaned against the tree, tail drooping between her legs. "Damn," she repeated. "Damn, damn, damn."

"'Cky?"

The werewolf's head snapped up, but that was all. Her ears flattened and her fur spiked up. "Yes?" she asked evenly.

"'S'wrong?"

"Nothing, Nibs. Nothing's wrong."

The boy's eyes were half-open, staring past the fire to where Icky stood. His face was frowning as best it could. "Why were y'yelling?" he whispered, fighting the urge to fall back asleep.

"I'm just mad. That's all." Icky finally turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing. "Nothing important. Go back to sleep."

Nibs sighed, blinking slowly. "'R'you sure you're okay?" he slurred.

"Yes. How many times do I have to tell you? I'm fine. Just mad. Now get your ass back to sleep before I knock you unconscious to make you shut your trap."

Nibs frowned, curling in on himself a little bit. "Dun hav' to be mean..."

Sighing in annoyance, Icky padded over to him and sat down next to him. "Just go back to sleep, human. You need your rest."

"I...don't want to..."

"Why the hell not?"

"...I'm scared."

Icky stared, and then scowled. "You-" She started to say something really cutting but the look on the blonde's face made her pause. He really did look scared. "Er...don't be. I'm not going anywhere. You're safe." She ground that out as best she could, not used to comforting anyone in any way whatsoever. Especially anyone she didn't particularly like.

"...promise?"

The question caught her off guard. She blinked, then frowned. "Well...yes. I promise, I guess. I have nothing better to do, after all." He didn't look satisfied with that, so she said as kindly as possible, "I'm not going anywhere, Nibs. Nothing is going to happen to you."

He smiled at her. She twitched.

"Thank you."

"Whatever. Just go back to sleep."

Author's Notes: Yes, I am aware that Icky is a bit of a Mary Sue. I generally don't like making female characters because I do find, with me, they have the tendency to be like fictional versions of myself. So I tried to make Icky as mean as possible while still being a good guy. Not sure if it worked or not, but hey - whatever works. I do hope my characters are enjoyable to all of you; I had a lot of fun writing them. :)

Oh and yes, Kohkoa, you are indeed worthy of a special thanks. After all, I might have let this story languish forever if it wasn't for you. At this point I'm halfway through the story, and it's taken me two years to get here... so if you keep bugging me, and the stars are right, I may actually finish this story! Woo! crosses fingers

Future warnings: This story gets very, very dark. Lots of gore, weirdness, mild slash content and Icky has a filthy, lonely mind. ;) That's all.

--TSC