“Peter!” Wendy got herself up and tried to run to him, but her feet wouldn’t move. Her body weight pitched her forward. Her feet were caught in something like sticky black tar. She tried to tug them free, but they wouldn’t budge.
High-pitched laughter filled the room and cut into her head, setting her teeth on edge. She clamped her hands over her ears.
Lounging on the window seat was the shadow. It leaned back comfortably and smiled its jagged grin. “That was almost too easy!” it said before laughing again. With a flick of its wrist, thick black strands bound Peter’s arms and legs, jerking him up. Peter cried out as he hung suspended in mid-air.
Wendy tried to lunge forward again, to get to Peter, only to fall back to her knees. “What are you doing to him?!” she demanded, her lips peeling back in a snarl. “Let him go!”
The shadow turned to Wendy. Its fingertips, thin and pale like bones, pressed together and drummed rhythmically. “I should really be thanking you,” it said to her, its lips quirking into an angular smile. Its mouth looked like it had been carved into its face with a serrated knife.
Her face screwed up in anger and confusion.
“Wendy,” Peter groaned through agonized gasps, his lips pale white. Sweat beaded his forehead. “Run.”
She shook her head fiercely. Fear dragged its claws over her skin, but there was no way she was leaving his side. She wouldn’t let the shadow take him. “What are you talking about?” Wendy asked, turning back to it.
“Isn’t it obvious?” the shadow said with a puzzled look. “Our dear Peter Pan has kissed his magic away!” It smiled fondly at Peter, pressing a skeletal hand affectionately to his heart. Peter strained against his bindings.
Wendy’s heart leapt into her throat. She could see the color draining from Peter’s face. Not like when someone became suddenly ill and their skin tinged green, but like his face was fading to the color of ash. Dark bruises blossomed under his eyes. Even the warm auburn of his hair started to fade. From the corner of his contorted mouth, pixie dust trickled down the side of his face. It dripped to the floor like liquid gold.
Wendy frantically tugged against the binds holding her feet. “Peter!” she shouted. He was slipping away from her. His eyelids drooped and his head lolled to the side.
“And it’s all because of you, Wendy,” the shadow crooned. It stood and walked over to Peter. It dragged a finger along his cheek, smearing the liquid light between its bony fingers.
Peter’s face contorted in pain, a low groan sounding from deep in his chest.
“Don’t touch him!” Wendy spat.
The shadow turned to her and wagged a disapproving finger. “Now, now, there’s no need for impoliteness,” it gently scolded her before holding its hands out at its sides. “I’m trying to thank you!”
The muscles in Wendy’s face twitched. She didn’t care what the shadow was or what it could do to her. All she wanted was to get it away from Peter.
And rip that smile off its face.
“What are you talking about?”
“Feelings, Wendy,” it said. Wendy’s resolve wavered for a moment, but she steeled herself, refusing to let it distract her. “From the very first time he saw you, he felt something for you. Something that kept luring him away from his responsibilities, from Neverland. It’s you, Wendy, who has brought the great Peter Pan to his knees.” The shadow began to walk in a slow circle around her, his black eyes hungry.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.
“I could see what was happening, of course, though he was far too oblivious,” it drawled. “With each visit to hear you tell those silly stories about him, I could feel him growing weaker. It was thanks to you, Wendy, and his feelings for you, that I grew more powerful.
“You see, Peter Pan is the embodiment of all things good, and light, and joyous.” It spoke with a disgusted sneer. “Peter never had reason for a bad thought or worry. His existence was simple—take care of the lost children and bring them happiness. That was all that was required of him! He never had reason to want to leave Neverland, to abandon his duty, his sole purpose of being, until he met you.” Thunderous laughter rolled through the room. “But the very first time he laid eyes on you, I could feel it.” The shadow’s hands clenched into fists.
“It was disgusting really, how he couldn’t stop thinking about you, but it wore on his resolve, and I could feel him waver. I even nearly succeeded once! Dear Peter couldn’t help himself. I took the chance to escape, while he snuck off to see you, his heart aching with the need.”