Chapter one: The Plunge
Wendy was feeling a little ill. She had a queasy feeling for several months now, and, though she rested well enough and ate healthy foods, she could not ease it. It was a cold, tiny feeling in the pit of her stomach that Wendy first associated with a bad stomach, but then went on for so long with no other recognizable symptom that she dismissed it. But there were times when it would intensify, and it was in these times when Wendy sat still, face pale and eyes wide, that she felt that this funny feeling in her stomach was not the symptoms of a stomachache, but rather of a feeling of dread. But dread of what? What could she possibly anticipate that would strike such feeling in her?
John, Michael, Nibs, Tootles, Curly, Slightly, and all the rest of the boys were doing extremely well in school. Okay, maybe that was a little stretch of truth. John was doing very well in school. As for Michael and the others, well, they were little boys. What could you expect? But that was no cause for worry. Mr. Darling had been promoted to a managerial position in the bank, so that should be a reason for happiness. Aunt Millicent had been quite happy enough that her niece was attending a prestigious boarding school for London's young ladies. How much happier could the Darlings be?
Except, whispered a traitorous part of her heart, he is not here, and you are always unhappy because of it. Wendy quite firmly repressed that hidden voice and bullied it into the darkest corner of her mind.
Life had gone on quite well without Peter Pan. Better, in fact, than it had been before. A child had left with Peter Pan to go to Neverland, and came back a young girl in the first blush of womanhood. In going to the place where she would always escape adult responsibilities and pressures, she ironically learned the lesson and grew up, one way or another. It was ironic that, in the eyes of her childhood hero, she finally realized what it meant to grow up, and it was ironic that, in wanting to preserve her feelings for her childhood hero and love, she knew she had to grow up and leave him, if that was what it cost. Life had a funny way of turning out.
But even doing so never ceased the ache in her heart. Even knowing she was right never made it easier on Wendy. Growing up in and of itself was difficult. Growing past a love that had shaped her very soul was extremely challenging. Yet by and by Wendy had reassembled her life, the right way this time, and her family could not be happier for it.
So what is this feeling? Wendy asked herself. Why do I feel so anxious? Almost as if a dark cloud were gathering around me.
Wendy, despite her efforts, could not conceal her preoccupation from her large family. Mrs. Darling had noticed it first, and the sensible woman had consulted with her husband at the first opportune moment. Mr. Darling had observed his daughter, but could not seem to find anything wrong with her. Mrs. Darling detected her beloved daughter's mood, but little else. It was John, the oldest son, who had observed, by himself, his older sister's mood and had been quite direct in his approach with her. Mrs. Darling may have been the queen of subtlety, but John Darling was not known for pulling his punches.
On a rainy day, after most of the boys lay scattered around the parlor snoozing and Mr. Darling and Mrs. Darling had gone up to their room for a siesta, John had taken a seat next to his sister who was looking out at the gray London street from the parlor window. The serious, dark haired Darling began, "Wendy, I know you're not sick, and I know that you're doing just fine in boarding school. So why do you look so peaked?"
Wendy stared in surprise at her brother, a hand that had previously rested against the cool pane of the glass now coming to rest on the base of her neck. John continued, "Don't think we haven't noticed... You know mother and father have noticed but are keeping quiet about it. Aunt Millicent is dropping off hints about whether there's anything wrong. Michael feels that you're hiding. Slightly probably knows as well. It won't take long for the others to put two and two together, you know. " John folded his arms, fixing her with a stern, piercing gaze that made Wendy feel that she were the younger sibling.
The brunette coughed lightly, taking a sweep of the room's drowsy inhabitants before finally resting her cornflower eyes on John. "I don't," she murmured smoothly, but the words died away at the glint in John's eyes. Even Peter answered straight when John assumed that posture. "I just... feel uneasy," replied Wendy truthfully. "I haven't talked about it with anyone because I don't know why I feel uneasy. At first I thought I was sick, but truly I'm not. I've checked myself. I didn't want to talk about it either."
"Why not?" asked John. "Have you checked with the doctor?"
"No," Wendy shook her head. "I'm positive that I'm healthy."
"Why not talk about it then, to mother or Aunt Millicent?"
Wendy gave her brother a wry look, "Aunt Millicent... you know the answer to that. As for mother... I just don't know. I don't know why I'm uneasy, John, and being uneasy about something I don't know makes me even uneasier. I ... don't want to give it words. Somehow...if I do, then the problem will be real. And I don't know if I want to... if I can ever face the problem then."
John frowned, pensive at her sister's words. It would be so easy, were it anyone else, to dismiss their words and classify it as an odd feeling. A chill perhaps, or the reaction of an overactive imagination cultivated by too many novels. But this was Wendy. Wendy had an overactive imagination, and read more books than anyone else he knew except maybe himself. However, Wendy was not easily shaken. She was the bravest of the Darling children with an indomitable spirit that school nor their relatives' tutelage could dampen. And when Wendy looked at him, as she did now, with sinister shadows dancing in her eyes, he could not seem to find words that would alleviate the fear.
John paused, considering her words. "Is there... anything I can do? Anything at all to help, perhaps?" queried the younger brother. He looked at Wendy, eyes full of concern. "I haven't felt anything particularly troublesome lately, but..." Wendy averted her eyes, realizing that she was somehow making John feel uneasy too. As if, just by the power of her eyes alone, she made the shadows in the room seem darker and ominous.
"Nothing, John," smiled Wendy a little ruefully at her lap. Her hands were now clasped together and resting primly on her lap. "I'm fine, truly. It probably is just a stomach ache." The brunette wrinkled her nose, "Or maybe it's the corsets." Both of them laughed, but somehow John felt that the laughter was to convince themselves, wanting that to be the truth. John made no more mention of Wendy's mood, the only indication of Wendy's confession his increased vigilance in the security around the house. Touched by her brother's concern, Wendy nevertheless felt that the gesture was fruitless. Locked doors and windows would not alleviate her fears.
At least John looked like he was enjoying himself. The Darlings had been invited to a grand ball by one of Mr. Darling's superiors in the bank. Mrs. Darling, with the help of Aunt Millicent, had fought tooth and nail to get the boys presentable for the occasion, and they had done magnificently. The boys looked very smart and handsome in their neat suits. In addition, they were charming their hosts with their gentle antics. No doubt John had fiercely held them in check. The boys would have to leave in a while before they found something disastrous to do.
Mrs. Darling and Mr. Darling were mingling with the guests, their soft talk and laughter contributing to the air of the party. Aunt Millicent stood near Wendy, as a young lady ought not be without chaperone for an indefinite period of time. And what a young lady Wendy had turned out to be. A young girl just coming to womanhood with creamy satin skin, full rosebud lips, and dusky blue eyes with long, sooty lashes. Her mahogany brown hair was arranged in an elegant twist, curls coming down to sweetly frame her face. Wendy wore no adornments save the perpetual acorn that hung from a fine chain of silver down her breast. Her parents and especially Aunt Millicent hadn't understood why Wendy would want to keep on wearing such an unattractive bauble, but Wendy had firmly staved off suggestions to take it off. She had told all three, "It means more to me than a mine of diamonds" and she meant it with all her heart. To soothe Aunt Millicent's wounded pride, Wendy wore Aunt Millicent's dress of choice: a gown of pale gold that molded to Wendy's young, lithe body while still preserving her modesty. The beautifully embroidered material cascaded in a silken fall down her feet with a grace only a swan could possess. Wendy, tonight, was magnificent.
But Wendy did not feel it. The feeling inside had been growing since the sun fell, and she couldn't help act skittish. She felt as though she should be hiding, but from what or who exactly she could not determine. Pale and preoccupied, Wendy did not notice the admiring glances sent her way, but she did notice when Mr. and Mrs. Darling led over the bank's president to her as well as another young man.
"Wendy," smiled Mrs. Darling, "I would like you to meet Mr. Ludlow, your father's superior in the office."
Startled, Wendy dropped a graceful curtsy. Her eyes, twin shades of blue that could only be found in twilight, fastened themselves upon the man and said, "It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Ludlow."
Pleased, Mr. Ludlow bowed to her, "On the contrary, my dear, it is entirely my pleasure. Please, let me introduce you to my son, Jonathan." He presented Jonathan, a handsome youth of crystal blue eyes, fawn colored hair, and an easygoing disposition. He was tall, a complete head over her, and wore an elegant though stiff suit. Jonathan's lips curled in a smile and he kissed Wendy's hand.
"The pleasure's all mine, Ms. Darling," he grinned.
Wendy blushed faintly. She had to be unconscious not to notice Jonathan's physical appeal. His attentions would have been nice, Wendy reflected wistfully, if only she didn't feel so worried. So frightened...
"Would you grace me with this dance?" he asked.
"O-of course," nodded Wendy after she had received a nod from Mrs. Darling. Jonathan swept her into the dance floor. He had asked at a very opportune moment. The musicians were just starting up a waltz. Gallantly, Jonathan bowed down to her once more before taking her in his arms and beginning the waltz.
Jonathan smiled engagingly at her, "You look very beautiful tonight, Ms. Darling." His eyes danced in mischief, "Many men would love to be in my position right now."
"You're too kind," smiled Wendy at him. From behind his shoulder, Wendy spotted a face. It was hidden in shadow near the balconies, but it was a face she wasn't likely to forget. It was a ghastly, gray face. Scars scored through one cheek, five claw marks made by some beast. Lips were twisted into some cruel snarl of viciousness, but it was the eyes, the eyes that frightened her the most. They were black. Completely black. There was no distinction between iris, pupil, and all the rest. It was a vacuum of darkness that sucked in all light.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and opened them again. The face was gone. Wendy took a shuddering breath to calm her racing heart. She closed her eyes to focus on the waltz, the lilting notes sounding sweetly in her eyes.
"You like this waltz?"
"It's a very pretty waltz," nodded the chestnut brown haired girl, "It's different from all the other waltzes. Haunting... one might say."
Jonathan nodded solemnly, taking in her serious countenance, "Somehow, it fits you."
Wendy blinked in surprise, "Pardon?"
"It's mysterious," nodded Jonathan, concentrating on the music as he flawlessly led her on the dance floor, "it's haunting, but above all, it's very beautiful."
Wendy blushed once more. "I'm not..." she began, but was cut off as the music ended. Couples on the dance floor clapped the musicians for their work, and Wendy and Jonathan followed suit. At the corner of her eye, Wendy thought the shadows had lengthened. Was it supposed to be so dark inside the ballroom?
"Wendy, dear," called Mr. Darling. Jonathan escorted her back to her father. "I was just telling Mr. Ludlow your superb skills on the piano. Do grace us with one of your pieces," implored her father, smiling gently at his only daughter.
"Oh, but I'm not very good," protested the Wendy, looking faintly alarmed at having to perform in a ball. More importantly, she did not want to be in the center of attention where people could see her.
"I insist," smiled Mr. Ludlow. "One try won't hurt, and someone who dances as prettily as you is sure to have grace in music. It would be a pleasure." He nodded toward a vacant piano near the orchestra. The musicians had taken a short break. Jonathan eagerly beckoned for her, and Wendy had no choice but to comply.
The young lady arranged her skirts prettily as she sat in the piano, and she tested a few keys before looking satisfied. As she glanced to the left, she saw the face again. This time in a balcony nearer to her seat. For as long as she stared at the face, the longer it stared back at her. Wendy gasped quietly, and a couple danced past the face. It was gone. Face pale, she shook her head. She must be imagining things. She turned to her father and Mr. Ludlow, "Would you like to hear anything in particular?"
Jonathan shrugged and smiled, "Play for us anything that catches your fancy, Ms. Darling. You have excellent taste. Just play from the heart."
Wendy paused, fingers poised to strike the keys. Play from the heart. But, she thought a little sadly, in my heart is not what my parent wants. She wanted to please her parents. It was why she had endured finishing school, why she had agreed to all these balls and parties with all their stiff etiquette, and protocol. It was not that she disliked social functions. She enjoyed them, to a certain degree. It was just that... in her heart was Peter. Wendy's fingers descended and words flowed from inside her heart and out into the air, laden with feeling.
As Wendy's song winded to a close, she opened her eyes, noting the quiet of the room. A gasp tore out of her throat, this time not quiet but loud. She was alone. The room was completely empty. Wendy rose hastily from the piano, alarmed. Where did everyone go?
Cornflower blue eyes skipped from place to place, from table to table. The drinks were in place, and the food was still steaming. The violin the lead musician was tuning was still where he had last left it. The ballroom was exactly as it was except that there was no one in it but her.
"John?" called out to Wendy. Her voice echoed back to her, and she realized, for the first time since panic had set in, that the ballroom had grown unbearably dark. "Mother? Father? ... Mr. Ludlow?" she tried once more, fighting to keep the fear from her voice. A whisper carried back to her. Wendy swirled around. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Wendy..."
"Mother? Is that you?" asked Wendy. She took a few steps forward to the center of the room. "John... Boys, if this is a joke, the jig's up. It's not funny!"
"Weendy..."
Wendy swallowed hard. The whispery voice seemed to be coming from the balcony. In fact, as Wendy approached, the balcony seemed to be the only place that was bright. Moonlight spilled in from outside, and the touch of air was very cool. The blue eyed girl stepped forward, shivering. "Who's there?" she asked again, her voice strong and determined.
A man was standing outside the balcony. He had his back to her, his face seemingly uplifted to the heavens. A cloak shrouded him and it rustled in the faint breeze. Goosebumps rose on Wendy's bare skin and she crossed her arms around herself protectively.
"S-sir?" she called. The minute he turned his head, Wendy knew it was a mistake to call him. Wendy took steps back, fighting the rising horror inside her throat. The man slowly turned his face towards her, revealing the pallid skin, then the cruel, jagged scars, then the twisted lips, and finally the dark eyes. The dark eyes that glared at her greedily, promising much evil and torment.
Come to me, he seemed to say though his lips did not move. Come to me. Let me show you what real torment is. Let me show you the pleasure of knives scouring your skin, the hot fire of poison coursing through your blood, the bliss of being raped. Come to me, and I'll do that and more. Come to me.
Wendy stumbled back, eyes widening. Her heart had grown cold, and she was shaking uncontrollably. "H-help..." she murmured hoarsely. "Please... help. Someone, help me... Help..." Her terror robbed her of what voice she had.
The man's eyes widened fractionally at her. His mouth opened and his tongue, Wendy was able to glimpse in the cold moonlight, was slit in the middle like a snake's. "There is... no escape," he told her. His voice grated the air and burned her mind.
A feeling of absolute coldness crashed into the young girl. A hand reached up and it brushed her acorn necklace. As if snapped out of her trance, Wendy drew a ragged breath. Peter... She glared at the dark figure, though her heart still felt cold.
"I don't know... who you are. But you had better leave. You're not welcome here!" she half yelled. Her hand squeezed the acorn, almost frantically.
"You cannot hide," said the man, his slitted tongue flicking out once more. He took a step towards her.
"No... no!" yelled Wendy, retreating. "You're... not real! None of this is real!"
He began to laugh, a horribly cold laugh that sounded like the rattle of snakes.
"You're not real!" screamed the young girl, closing her eyes and shutting her ears from the sound. If only she could focus on something else, something to keep his gaze and voice from her mind. His gaze was pure terror and his voice robbed her of her will. Anything, anything at all to keep him away… She cast her mind and it landed on the song she had so recently sung, a song full of feeling and meaning and memories of the one person who could never fade with time.
She began to sing, a little hoarsely, "I want happiness... I seek happiness. To cause your happiness, to be your happiness. So take me, to a true elsewhere. Please take me there." The man's countenance did not change, but she felt him recoil. Encouraged, she sang once more, "Magic that lasts... Never ending kiss. Reverie without break. Imperishable bliss. Take me. I want happiness."
"Stop..." said the man, and his words fell like a guillotine.
Wendy visibly flinched. Desperately, she squeezed her acorn hard in her hand and continued doggedly, "Bird sing. Song of unknown tongue. Though winged they still fail to reach the sky. A place not meant to be treaded alone. So take me. To a true elsewhere. Wet feathers, locked fingers, melting flesh, fusing minds... Take me. I want happiness. Not your past, but your present is what I seek. Carefully winding back its fragile thread...please take me there."
"I said stop," said the man and he approached her. As he approached, Wendy noticed that he did not move his feet at all. Wendy realized that his toes were grazing the floor as he float towards her, sparks of red starting to appear in his eyes.
"I want happiness. I seek happiness. To cause your happiness. To be your happiness. Take me to a true elsewhere. Deliver me," sang Wendy, louder this time. He was approaching... "A bird in a gilded cage, a bird bereft of flight. A bird that cannot fly. A bird all by itself. So take me. I want happiness." Two meters. "Happy just to be with you. Happy just to see your smile. So take me to a true elsewhere. Please take me to happiness. " One meter. "My first thought and my last wish... A promised land where fairies wait with room just enough for two. So deliver me, help me. To forget the tribulations of day and to stay in this dream of night where I can be thinking of you forever. Take me..." Right before her with hellfire burning in his eyes. "Take me to my bliss!"
Light surrounded Wendy. The figure drew back in quick pace. Wendy herself felt a scream tear out of her throat. All at once, she felt as though an earthquake, and a hurricane had hit London simultaneously, and she felt the world shatter around her like glass. The fabric of reality ripped in front of her very eyes, and Wendy screamed once more. The ground gave way beneath her and she fell to a torrent of light. Wendy fainted.