The last thing that mischievous Peter Pan ever told naïve, twelve-year-old Wendy Darling was: “Just be waiting for me and then some night, you will hear me crowing.” He promised to come back for her in the spring and she waited with bated breath but four springs had passed by. In her restlessness, she began to sleepwalk. Each year on the first night of spring, she would sleepwalk into the nursery, desperately searching for him. In her dreams, she would be laughing and flying with him but in reality, he never came. He was having numerous, fun adventures back in Neverland and he could barely remember her name. Her mother always found her curled up in the rocking chair. Wendy would always wake up confused and heartbroken with dried tears in her eyes. She would continue to cry for days afterwards, rambling about Peter Pan. How could he just leave her behind? She then began to regret returning home. By the time she turned fifteen, everyone thought that she had completely lost her mind. Her brothers, John and Michael, had forgotten all about Peter Pan. The lost boys, who Wendy’s parents had adopted, convinced themselves that the tales of Peter and Neverland were just how they coped with living on the streets. Wendy knew the truth though and she would never let herself forget about Peter Pan or the magic of Neverland. Her mother tried to hide Wendy’s so-called odd behavior but there was no use. Her father was so determined to end her madness that he had poor Wendy locked up in an unscrupulous insane asylum.
Now, her days were filled with padded rooms, barred windows, needles, judging scowls, and freezing-cold hands that would conduct painful and unnecessary medical procedures on her. Bloodcurdling screams echoing throughout the corridors, this dismal place was just a horrid prison in disguise with a goal of torturing the patients until they were empty husks. The nurses and orderlies were also physically abusive with daily beatings. They didn’t always feed the patients either but they made sure that the patients had a good serving of medications in their systems. It was definitely hellish but Wendy clung onto the happy thoughts of Neverland and onto the hope that Peter Pan would rescue her any day. She told herself that he would fix everything but if she had let herself be truthful about all what she was feeling, she would have realized that resentment was also growing within her. She was there in this horrific situation because Peter was so absent-minded.
Dr. Pippin, the head doctor of the asylum, was a meaty man with gray hair and thick glasses that were almost goggles. He was secretly a sadistic predator. It brought him such sick pleasure to conduct excruciating procedures on patients who had no choice or escape. He would smile and puff on his cigar as he was doing those procedures, absolutely enjoying the feeble pleas and wails. One day, as he was checking Wendy’s vitals, he grinned creepily and told a nurse: “I think that we should do a lobotomy on Miss Darling tomorrow to get rid of her pesky hallucinations.”
“Yes Doctor,” replied the nurse dryly.
When he saw the frightened look on Wendy’s face, his grin widened and he told her in a husky whisper: “Oh, it won’t hurt. It’ll be over before you even realize it and afterwards, all those ridiculous thoughts of flying boys, fairies, mermaids, Indians, and pirates will all go away.”
Wendy knew that he was lying. She had heard the screams from the operating room when they did a lobotomy on someone and that person was never the same afterwards. The lost soul became more aggressive and had to endure electric shock therapy or was in a forever vegetative state. She couldn’t let them do this to her.
The next morning, two muscular male orderlies came to get Wendy from her room for her lobotomy.
She shrieked and tried to fight them off; punching, kicking, and scratching.
“No,” she screeched frantically, “they can’t…I’m not crazy! You know that this isn’t right! No…no…no!”
For a second, while she was fighting with the orderlies, she heard a little girl’s cry out in her mind. This unknown little girl’s voice sounded very familiar to Wendy but she just couldn’t remember who it was. Before she could remember it or wonder why a strange voice was even in her mind in the first place, it abruptly disappeared. While she was distracted, one of the orderlies slapped her across the face and she fell, her head hitting the floor; being knocked out cold. Both orderlies then quickly hoisted her limp body up and forcefully pulled her to the operating room by her two arms, her feet dragging behind her.
They carelessly tossed her onto the operating table. When she gained consciousness again, Dr. Pippin or the nurses weren’t there yet. The two orderlies were so busy looking for the restraints for her wrists and ankles that they didn’t notice that Wendy was awake. Her eyes darted around the room for something to defend herself with and her gaze stopped on the surgical tools. She swiftly grabbed a scalpel. It wasn’t a sword but she hoped that it would cause some damage. When one of the orderlies knelt down to restrain her, she rapidly slit his throat, blood splattering in her face. As the wounded man made a gurgling sound and staggered, the unknown girl in Wendy’s mind screamed in agony and made a choking sound. Having what we now call an adrenaline rush, Wendy then jumped on him and stabbed him right in the heart before the other orderly turned around. As he quickly bled out, she heard the strange girl’s voice in her mind once again but it sounded weaker and quieter this time, whimpering: “Mommy, why are you hurting me?”
She was confused by the voice saying this and was afraid of why she kept hearing some alien voice in her head. Was she going crazy after all? She ignored it. She had to ignore it. Then, the second orderly finally turned around and saw his co-worker slaughtered. He cried out and charged at her. Without hesitation, she tackled him and cut his throat as well, severing his vocal cords so he couldn’t scream. She stabbed him repeatedly until he stopped moving. Blood soaked her hair and nightgown and covered the walls and the ceiling. Suddenly, Dr. Pippin and the two nurses burst into the room and screeched at the massacre. The nurses fainted. Dr. Pippin just froze in fear and kept on screeching like the coward that he really was. Wendy was seething, seeing this. In that moment, he reminded Wendy of her father and Captain Hook; they would act all scary and powerful to control the meek but in reality, they had no backbone. Dr. Pippin needed to learn what it felt like to be completely helpless.
Wendy reached over and slammed the door shut behind him. She threw the scalpel over her shoulder, grabbed the lobotomy ice pick, and jumped on him. She began to stab him over, over, and over in every artery in his body. He tried to yell for help but the asylum’s staff only thought that another patient was screaming. He attempted to take the ice pick from her and there was a struggle for it. Both of her hands were accidentally sliced in the fight but she held onto it tightly and continued killing and mutilating him. She cut his fingers off, shattered his glasses, jabbed and ripped out his eyeballs from the sockets, and poked at his brain up through his empty eye sockets. His wails and the wails from the little girl in Wendy’s head warped together, almost sounding demonic for a moment. When she was finally done, Dr. Pippin’s whole body was butchered three times over. She was out of breath and totally shrouded in blood. She then ran out of the carnage without looking back. What did people think would happen when they constantly pushed her to the edge?
With the ice pick still in her hand, she was about to run down the hallway, when she heard two familiar voices. This time, they weren’t just in her mind. The first voice was twelve-year-old Petrina Sue, a fellow patient. She had emerald eyes, freckles on her nose and cheeks, and long, frizzy, ginger hair. Petrina witnessed her father choke her mother to death and to make sure she wasn’t believed, he locked her up. To give her some hope, Wendy would tell her Peter Pan stories and act like a mother figure to her.
The second voice made Wendy drop the ice pick on the floor in shock. It made her heart soar. She knew that voice anywhere. It was Peter. She ran towards Petrina’s room and she expected the door to be locked but it was wide open. The window’s bars were also somehow scorched and bent open. She slowly stepped into the room. She silently stood there at first, just watching. Of course, Peter hadn’t aged a day. His fiery-red hair was still unkempt and he still wore a garb of autumn leaves, cobwebs, and acorns. He was talking to Petrina with his usual impish grin.
“Petrina,” he grinned, “one girl is worth more than twenty boys.”
Petrina giggled.
“He used to say that to me,” said Wendy to herself with a slight tinge of jealousy but she smiled, remembering the first night that she met him.
“Peter,” she finally said aloud.
They both turned around to face her. Petrina gasped at her bloody appearance and Peter cocked his head, asking: “Who are you?”
“Peter, it’s me…Wendy.”
He squinted and got closer to her face. After a few minutes, he said: “Oh yeah. Hello Wendy Lady. Why are you taller?”
“Well, it has been four years.”
“Really,” he asked nonchalantly, “is that long?”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t seem like a long time, Wendy,” said Peter indifferently.
She ignored his aloof tone and happily asked: “Where’s Tinkerbell?”
“I don’t know really but there’s a new fairy with me now. His name is Flame Neverlight.”
At the mention of his name, Flame flew in front of Wendy and bowed to her with the charm of a prince but he then recoiled at the sight of so much blood being on her. His clothes, skin, eyes, wings, and short hair were all bright orange. It also looked like his entire tiny, robust body was engulfed in fire.
“He has fire magic,” continued Peter, “he can burn through steel and do other neat things!”
“That is certainly a useful power,” smiled Wendy.
Petrina finally pointed out the elephant in the room and asked with concern: “Are you hurt Wendy? Do you need a doctor? That's an awful lot of blood on you!”
“Oh, this is nothing,” Wendy lied, “I just fought off some orderlies and I think that some of their blood is on me, that’s all.”
“I taught her how to fight brutally,” Peter boasted, “back in Neverland!”
“Still, you look like you just slaughtered a pig or something,” Petrina told Wendy fretfully.
Wendy laughed nervously.
Peter chimed in again, asking: “Are orderlies pirates?”
“They’re worse than pirates,” said both girls.
“It’s a good thing that I’m taking Petrina to Neverland,” exclaimed Peter, “never returning to this evil place!”
“Really Peter?”
“Yep. It was my plan all along!”
“Oh, thank you Peter!”
Petrina tried to bear hug him but he darted away, saying happily: “Oh, the cleverness of me!” After crowing loudly, he then told Flame to put pixie dust on Petrina. Wendy was worried that the dust was going to be on fire but it was ordinary fairy dust; amazingly glittery and orange.
“Now, think happy thoughts,” Peter instructed Petrina, “and they will lift you into the air!”
She closed her eyes and whispered: “My mother making me breakfast in the morning.” She automatically shot up into the air and began to zoom around the room.
“Look, Wendy, I can fly now like you used to!”
Wendy exclaimed with glee: “How wonderful!” She kept waiting for Peter to invite her to come along with them but all of his attention was on Petrina. Maybe he was going to surprise her. She waited until he started to say: Let’s go to Neverland, second star to the right and straight on till mor—”
“Peter, wait,” said Wendy abruptly, ”Flame forgot to give me some pixie dust! I’m coming with you too, right?”
He chuckled but did Petrina and Flame just cringe? He told Flame to show Petrina the way and that he’ll be there soon.
“Bye Wendy,” Petrina said quietly, following Flame out of the window.
Wendy waved but her stomach was in knots and her heart was sinking. Even though Peter was smiling, something felt different. She desperately asked: “Peter, aren’t you happy to see me? You’ve been out of sorts since you saw me!”
“Of course I am happy to see you, Wendy, but don't you see?”
“See what?”
“You’re a grown up now.”
“No, I’m not. I’m only fifteen!”
“Are so,” Peter argued, giggling, “you’re taller than before.”
“Why are you so fixated on height suddenly?!”
“Do you even remember how to fly?”
“You can re-teach me,” exclaimed Wendy excitedly, “We’ll jump on the wind’s back again and away we go!”
“Silly Wendy, you can’t come back to Neverland if you grew up already.”
“But,” she stuttered, “but who will be your mother?”
“Petrina will,” explained Peter, “She knows all of your stories and knows how to sew pockets in our clothes.”
“You replaced me?!” Wendy was devastated and furious. She had waited for him for so long. She believed in him when the others didn’t. She even got locked up for it. Instead of having a joyous reunion and him rescuing her from this hell on Earth, she was quickly being replaced without a thought! She was seeing red.
“You’ve taught Petrina well, Wendy Lady,” smiled Peter, thinking that saying this would make her feel better. He was about to give her another acorn as a parting gift and was about to fly away, when Wendy punched him in the face; knocking him out.
When Peter opened his eyes again, his head was pounding and his nose was bleeding into his mouth. He was confused and for the first time, visibly afraid. He was in the operating room. He saw all of the blood, the three dead bodies, and the two knocked out ladies. He tried to get up from the table but his arms and legs were tied down with restraints. He fought against the restraints but they only got tighter.
He then looked to his left. To his utter terror, Wendy had taken his shadow from his body and was shredding it with his own dagger.
Peter screamed: “Wendy, stop it! What are you doing?!”
She ignored him until his shadow was nothing but black dust.
“Stop, Wendy, stop! Please don’t do this!”
When she finally finished, she turned to face him and simply said: “Now, no one can rescue you like you never rescued me.”
With such venom, Peter shouted: “You became a nasty, coldhearted, bloodthirsty pirate!”
She was laughing and sobbing at the same time. Her mind unhinged, she swiftly put his dagger to his throat and grinned: “I’m much crazier than a pirate. People call me insane for just believing in you, you know, but the craziness will end when I kill you!”
Usually, Peter was an extremely brave boy but he was starting to realize that a friend wanted to hurt him. As he felt the cold, sharp blade on his throat and saw the deranged stare in her eyes, he wept: “Please don’t kill me, Wendy!”
She sardonically said: “What's wrong, Peter? I thought that to die would be an awfully big adventure.”
He just started bawling.
Crying angrily, Wendy stabbed him ferociously. With each stab, he wailed and the unknown girl in her mind screamed uncontrollably. His blood was splashing everywhere. He tried to thrash about to get away from the blade to no avail. She ran him through continuously. Then, she took off her acorn necklace that Peter gave her so long ago, wrapped it firmly around his throat, and choked him with it; slowly crushing his larynx and making him aspirate on his own blood and tears. Wendy Darling had killed Peter Pan.
While she was looking down at her demented handy work, someone suddenly walked up behind her and hit her in the head. Things then went black. After a few minutes, she woke up with a loud gasp. She wasn’t in an insane asylum; she was in her former nursery in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace. She wasn’t fifteen; she was thirty-seven. Everything came back to her in a flash. Her parents never thought that she was crazy and never locked her up as a teenager. She and her brothers hid the fact that she sleepwalked from their parents. When her brothers and the former lost boys stopped believing in Peter Pan, she stopped talking about him but always believed in him secretly. For a time, she was heartbroken and resentful that Peter never came back but she never discussed it with anyone. She just learned how to deal with her sleepwalking and move on, burying those feelings about him.
It was all just a horrible nightmare. All that gore and madness wasn’t real or at least that’s what she thought until she looked down at her hands and clothes. She was holding a butcher knife, her hands were bruised and bloody, and her clothes were still soaked with blood. Standing up, she threw the knife across the room and she retched at the sight of the blood on her. She dashed towards the lamp but she slipped on something wet. She looked down at her feet and screamed in absolute horror.
Dead on the floor in a puddle of blood, laid Jane, Wendy’s daughter, and Penny, Jane’s best friend from school. Jane’s throat was slit three times, her blue eyes were crudely ripped out from their sockets and were set at her side, and she was stabbed, beaten, and slashed all over her body. Penny’s doll-like, freckled face was bashed in and her emerald eyes were frozen open in fright. Her whole body was also stabbed and beaten and Wendy’s acorn necklace was tightly around her throat.
Shaking, Wendy collapsed on her knees. This shouldn’t have happened! Just hours before, it was the first day of Spring and Jane’s twelfth birthday. Jane was upset because her father, Edward, was away on business so to cheer her up, Wendy let Penny stay the night. Wendy must’ve dozed off in the rocking chair when the girls fell asleep but how could she have done this? She was never violent during her sleepwalking episodes before. How could she?!
“I’m so sorry,” Wendy sobbed hysterically, “you didn’t deserve this! I should’ve just stayed awake. Sweet babies, I’m so, so, so sorry! I'll never forgive myself!”
She was too busy crying to notice someone creeping into the opened window and now stood behind her. She then heard a whimper and she slowly turned around. It was Peter Pan. He was going to take Jane to Neverland that night but instead, he stepped into this traumatizing scene. Frozen in place, his hand was on the handle of his dagger; looking as though he was about to battle. His teary eyes were staring into Wendy with such hatred and fear. Tinkerbell was next to him, turning as red as Satan; burning with rage.
“Peter…,” Wendy said tearfully.
As Jane's and Penny's blood oozed underneath his bare feet, he went into shock. All that Peter could utter was: “Wendy Lady, what did you do? What did you do?”
This is a work of fan fiction using characters by J.M. Barrie.
©Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2023
Art by: Rapunzel-Magic-Frost
Music by: Jessie Paege
Author Notes: Happy Halloween y'all! 🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃 I hope you enjoyed this gory and creepy version of Peter Pan. It's fun to be scared this time of year! 👻🗡
My Halloween camp blog will be posted soon. 😁😜
Smooches and think Tink!
