Hi guys! So sorry it's been so long since I've updated, I've been super busy with school and sports:(
This chapter's pretty short, but hopefully you guys like it!
Emma's POV:
It was a boy. It wasn't a monster, nor a demon, nor someone who looked remotely threatening. Except, perhaps, the knowing smirk on his face, the one of a troublemaker. I stared at him in awe, and three thoughts ran through my mind:
One. This boy is incredibly attractive and I would not mind a piece of that. Mmf.
Two. His face looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?
Three. How could one teenage boy become a pirate ship's worst enemy?
His smirk grew, as if he could read my thoughts. He took a small step in advance, causing the pirate crew to flinch and Hook to stretch out a hook-embellished arm in front of me.
"Well aren't you all welcoming?" the boy drawled, beginning to pace on the deck, arms casually behind his back.
"Pan. Why are you here?" Hook snarled.
"I think the more prominent question is: why are you here?" the boy-Pan-retorted. "You should be searching for your one true love, am I right?"
True love. Pirates can have one of those? The stereotypical pirate in my mind would have left his family and loves for a life of greed and pillage with his brethren. Not off on a date getting seafood with his girlfriend.
I shot Hook a curious look, but his gaze was focused directly on Pan, his eyes smouldering with pent up fury. But Hook also shot Pan a look that said: Don't bring that up. Not here. Not now.
Pan caught the glance, gave a small chuckle, before noticing me, and his smirk grew. "And who's this? A new recruit?"
I cocked my head, confused. Did he really think I was going to be a pirate?
"She's new. Hit her head." Hook revealed as little as possible.
"Hmmm...interesting. But I'd rather hear who she is from her, not a washed-up, scruffy pirate."
Hook tensed, but refrained from jabbing his hook right in the boy's chest. In a flash, Pan was right next to me, studying me as if he were sizing up a foe-or an ally. He circled around me, taking in my ragged Boston long-sleeved t-shirt and athletic shorts. I attempted to stand my ground, but my heart was pounding, and I was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable in the silence. Pan's face drew dangerously close to mine, and I could feel his breath. One part of me wanted to close the distance between us, but the realistic side of me was more cautious.
"Hmm, she doesn't seem like much," Pan taunted, and my mouth dropped in offense. "In fact," he titled his head, preparing his blow. "she seems weak...easy to crush. You're nothing, girl."
It was instinct. Only once have I done this in my life, but my eyes flashed with rage and I drew back my arm and slapped him on the cheek with a force equal to my emotion.
His face moved with the hit, angled to the side as a red handprint grew slowly on his face. Hook was astounded, but his eyes twinkled with a newly developed admiration for my bravery. Or stupidity. Either or.
My eyes widened and I stood there in shock, feeling a mix of continued anger, surprise, and guilt. I suppose that was a little extreme, but then again, I had a tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt.
Pan raised a hand to his cheek, no doubt feeling the sting of the hit, then laughed. The boy actually had the nerve to laugh! He shook his head in disbelief, and the mood changed in the atmosphere, became charged with electricity and tension. Everything slowed down, and the sky turned grey. Even the boat itself seemed to be holding its breath, not rocking one inch.
Wait a minute. It was wavy one minute ago, and the height of the waves don't change that quickly. When glancing towards the ocean, I saw that the waves were paused midroll, unmoving. The trees on the nearby island were still as well, despite the blustery weather today. My suspicion and anxiety grew as Hook and his men grew in focus. None were blinking, all appeared to be glued to the ground. There was no flick of the finger, nor flinch of the foot. They were frozen.
My realization came too late as I was filled with a sense of dread, heart pounding louder than ever as I turned with my eyes shut, opening to see Pan almost nose to nose. In that moment, I knew why the pirates feared him so much. Why he was their greatest enemy. The look of outrage and pure hatred in his eyes was enough to paralyze the most well-known psychopath.
He threw his hands out to his sides, and a large gust of air slammed me into the entrance of the captain's quarters. I let out a groan, a trickle of pain creeping down my back. He appeared in front of me once again, teeth baring and long fingers around my neck, and I was completely and utterly trapped.
Stupidity, that slap was definitely stupidity.
My breath came out in short little bursts, as I tried not to hyperventilate. Pan drew his face close to my ear, slightly tightening his grip as he did so. I swallowed with difficulty, hoping some of my fear would be taken down with me.
"Who do you think you are, girl?" Pan hissed. I was struggling with my breathing, and I tried to remove his fingers from my neck, but to no avail. Pan waved his hand and two chains appeared, strapping themselves around my wrists to the wall.
When I said I was trapped before, I mean it now.
"No one beats Peter Pan at his game. No one even tries," Pan glared. "It seems to me like we've got our first competitor." He gave a squeeze, and I saw black spots.
"Before the games begin, I like to get to know my enemy," I saw my chance for freedom as his grip loosened, only slightly. I have to talk my way out of this, words are my greatest ally in this case.
"I think we're in agreement there," I gasped.
"Who. Are. You?" Pan repeated, shaking my throat as he did so.
I knew my existence on earth was going to be a little while longer, as long as the games were on, so a sense of sarcasm came back to me.
"Who am I?" I smirked. "24601."
Pan squinted, utterly confused. "What?" He gripped harder again, fury growing again as he realized I was trying to pull a trick on him.
I coughed. "Les Miserables? Jean Valjean?" I took another gulp of air. "You uncultured swine."
Bad Emma, bad Emma, bad Emma, your stupidity is showing again, why do you have to go and make the evil guy madder. Only I would try and insult the villain when he is an inch close to killing me.
Pan flipped out his knife, and quickly placed it to my neck, releasing his fingers in replacement. My breath came out in deeper gulps, and although I was faced with a more painful and threatening object, I was grateful for the opportunity to breath the salty air again.
"How dare you?" Peter Pan whispered. "Tell me this, girl, why shouldn't I just kill you right now?"
I racked my brain, trying to search desperately for a decent reason when all I've been in the past twenty minutes is idiotic. What I need is a weakness, something that appeals so strongly to the psychopath in front of me that he would forget.
Love.
He couldn't love. After meeting this boy, a pirate would be a hundred times more likely to be devoted to one person he loved deeply. However, maybe it wouldn't have to be love towards a person that could set me free.
"The game," I challenged. "You can't resist a good old fashioned game, especially when you don't know who I am, but you know that I could be a threat. It wouldn't be any fun to you if you just kill me now."
Pan appeared to be contemplating this, but his blade was pushed deeper against my neck. A small drop of blood appeared at the edge. I gulped.
"Come on Peter Pan," I goaded. "Where's your spirit?"
He snapped his head up and smirked. A new emotion appeared in his eyes: excitement.
"You've got yourself a deal, girl," I smiled, relieved, but he continued. "But, it has to be on my terms."
I glanced warily, the smiled sliding off of my face. "As long as you don't kill me on the spot, let's hear the terms."
Pan grinned. "One, you must tell me who you are. Two, the game itself: if you can survive on Neverland against my forces for seven days, I'll let you stay on the pirate ship where this blasted Hook can try his best to sail between realms. However, if I win, I choose how, when, and for what purpose you will die, with no resistance."
"That hardly sounds fair-" I began to argue, but his blade moved away from my neck and onto my arm, making a small slash in the skin. I winced, but made no noise, not wanted him to have the satisfaction. He noticed my pain and smirked, carving into my flesh other marks, causing blood to draw to the knife as I let out small screams, not able to hold it in. The pain grew in my arm as he completed his work, stinging as the salt in the air settled upon the slash marks.
"It's my terms, or a bloody death," he hissed. "Your choice."
A tear slipped out of my eye, but I ignored it and with a death glare, said "Bring it on."
"Good," Pan released his blade then, letting it clatter to the ground as he moved close to my ear yet again. "Now what's your name, darling?"
I let him move back, and focused directly at his eyes, wanting to make myself as intimidating as possible, despite my shaking fingers.
"Emma," I revealed, and just to spite him, I added "I'm the best there ever was."
He laughed condescendingly, and just rolled his eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows, thinking I could be somewhat enough of a decent enemy to not be laughed at. Have some respect, I thought, but I remembered that this was a boy who drew blood from me with his blade just because I slapped and insulted him.
My previous thoughts retreated when he smirked, and I saw some sort of twisted joy in his expression. He was ready for a new challenge, I could see it. What better time to test my acting skills than this next week, pretending I have a greater sense of confidence and bravery?
"Let the games begin then, Emma," he took a couple steps back, and licked his lips, his smile growing and eyebrow flicked up. He turned around at the edge of the ship, then changed his mind, and whipped around. "But I must warn you…" He raised his arm then, ready to snap the world back into the present and disappear.
"Peter Pan never fails."
Like that, he was gone. No poof of air or dust, no remaining sign that he was ever on the ship except for the bonds around my wrists and the burning pain on my forearm. I saw the crew return to life, moving slowly and confused, searching for their enemy.
Hook noticed me first. "Emma!" he exclaimed, rushing to help unchain me. Using the blade of his hook to slash through the metal, I collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by this new development. Stupid me. Dammit what have I gotten myself into?
Hook crouched down, concern etched across his face. "Love, what's that on your arm?"
I glanced at the bleeding marks of which Peter scratched into my skin. 7 days. A constant reminder. A countdown to either my untimely demise or my escape.
"A deal of some sorts," I replied to Hook. His face darkened, as he began to understand what was happening. "Love, you've just made a deal with the devil."
"I know," I sighed, resigned to my fate. "but it may be my only chance to figure out why I'm here in this realm, and how to get back home."
"Are you sure-" Hook was cut off. A tight feeling overcame me, and my brain was swirling, in eight different places at once. Nausea and dizziness swept over my body and I tried to get my eyes to move back in focus. The swirling stopped, and I was surrounded by gigantic trees, blocking out the sun and providing the first arena.
The games had begun.