Inspired by 'Peter Pan' by J.M. Barrie.
The Demonic Neverland Lost Kids
It had been many centuries since the Demon Queen and Aden had arrived in Neverland, but no one had noticed because of the island’s power to slow the passage of time. No one aged in Neverland—except Wendy. Even though the island slowed her aging significantly, she was still changing. She was now seventeen, on the verge of turning eighteen. Nobody knew why, but some whispered that it was because she had lost her love for the island.
One night, Peter finally noticed this change in Wendy. He had tolerated her taking care of the Hook puppet, but he couldn’t allow her to grow up. He was planning to kill her when the Demon Queen intervened.
No one understood why the Queen wanted Wendy to remain alive—not until much later, at least. But to keep Peter busy, she told him to find new Lost Kids to bring to Neverland. Not just baby boys who had fallen out of their cribs, but slightly older children—both boys and girls who felt misunderstood; Misfits who wouldn’t be missed.
Little did Peter know, the Queen’s request was only the beginning of a much bigger, far more disturbing plan.
For this quest, Peter decided to go to the United States. In an effort to pass for a twenty-first-century angsty misfit, he made a few changes to his clothes. He took a red bowler hat from a pirate’s freshly severed head and ordered Wendy to clean the bloody hat and attach a black feather to it. He wore the hat slightly tilted to one side. Under his crimson-red tunic, he wore a black, long-sleeved shirt. He also wore red jeans and black combat boots. Then, for the final edgy touch, he wore a studded leather wristband on his right wrist.
Right away, during his search, Peter spotted a sad girl named Anna White. She was much older than the other children he usually brought to Neverland, but she fascinated him—the same way Wendy had once fascinated him. Peter followed Anna like prey, patiently waiting for the right moment to make his move.
It was just another Monday morning for fifteen-year-old Anna White in Salem, Massachusetts. Her alarm clock was buzzing annoyingly, and the smell of her stepmom’s burnt breakfast filled the house. Just as Anna turned off her alarm, the fire alarm went off with an ear-splitting shriek.
“Oh, not again,” she groaned, covering her head with her pillow.
She lay there on her stomach, hiding from the world, until her stepmom yelled for her to come downstairs. Grumpily, she got out of bed and slowly stomped into the bathroom. She was exhausted.
She had stayed up reading a book of Robert Frost poems until midnight, then snuck out to meet her friends at the park. They walked to a party, but it was boring, and she only stayed for about an hour. She started walking home around two in the morning, but stopped at her real mom’s grave along the way. She didn’t make it home until four a.m.
After Anna washed her face and put on her black eyeliner and brown lipstick, she dressed in a gray, long-sleeved shirt, her favorite black Hollywood Undead T-shirt, skinny jeans, and black Converse shoes. She combed her hair, letting her black bangs fall halfway over one side of her face. She then went downstairs with great dread. She already knew her stepmom would criticize her the moment she saw her.
Sure enough, her stepmom saw her walk into the kitchen and exclaimed, “You’re wearing that shirt again? And why do you wear your hair like that all the time? You need to expand your horizons!”
Anna’s stepmom, whose name was Christine, was closed-minded and sometimes snobbish. Because she had been treated like the queen bee all her life and was always the family’s fashion police, she expected everyone else to be perfect, just as she pretended to be. Her bleached-blond hair and green contact lenses completed her carefully maintained appearance, though the contacts obviously hid her mismatched eyes—one gray and the other black.
Besides Christine’s constant judgment, what made it difficult and a bit awkward for Anna to call her “Stepmom” was that Christine had actually been her aunt before she married Anna’s dad. They married six months after Anna’s mother was killed.
Her mother was killed during a burglary gone wrong when Anna was twelve. The police quickly caught the man responsible, and he was serving a life sentence. But Anna preferred to remember her mother’s life rather than the gruesome and senseless way she had died. She tried to carry on without her mom the best she could.
However, Anna knew that Christine and her dad had married only because they didn’t want to be alone. They weren’t in love, but no one listened to her. She didn’t know whether to think of it as a heartbreaking tragedy or the grossest taboo ever.
“I like this shirt, Christine, because it has one of my favorite bands on it,” Anna said flatly, forcing a smile as she sat at the table, “And I think that my hair looks cool this way. It kinda makes me look mysterious.”
“We should go shopping,” Christine said, practically ignoring Anna’s answer, “And I can give you some much-needed fashion advice.”
“No thanks.”
Because of her lack of sleep, Anna’s patience with Christine was wearing thin that morning, and she was about to storm out when her dad walked into the kitchen, dressed in his handsome blue suit.
He was a car salesman who believed that looking businesslike made buyers trust him faster. Her dad, Rich, was tolerant, calm, understanding, and funny. It seemed like he was always saving her from Christine. Maybe he knew that his new wife was a pain in the butt.
“Hi, Dad,” Anna said with a more sincere smile.
“Hi, sweethearts,” he replied, kissing Anna’s forehead and then Christine’s. “What are my ladies talking about this morning?”
“I want to take Anna shopping,” Christine said, “but she’s being stubborn.”
Seeing the exasperation on Anna’s face, her dad winked at her before turning to Christine with a smile.
“Shopping? I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ve seen our closet. You might buy out all the stores, and then we’ll have to file for bankruptcy. It’ll be such a headache.”
Anna giggled under her breath as Christine looked like a pouting child, putting their burned crisp breakfast on the table.
Anna picked up a half-burned piece of toast from her plate, then sneaked a Pop-Tart into her book bag so Christine wouldn’t nag her about eating junk food.
She stood up and said, “Gonna see Mom before school.”
She saw Christine glance nervously at her dad. Christine didn’t like Anna visiting her mother so often. It made her uncomfortable, which Anna didn’t understand. After all, it was Christine’s sister. But they never dared to say anything to each other about it.
“Okay, sweetie. Just don’t be late for class,” her dad told her as he looked down at his phone.
“I won’t.”
She kissed his cheek, grabbed her book bag and jacket from the chair, and headed toward the front door.
“Oh…Anna,” he called, making her stop mid-step. “Were you sleepwalking again last night?”
Her dad had heard her leaving her room at night before, and she always told him that she was just sleepwalking. She was shocked that he had bought the excuse for so long. Sometimes she wondered if he really knew the truth and was simply waiting for her to confess before grounding her for life.
“Yes,” she lied, feeling a little guilty.
“We’ll need to take you to the doctor if it continues like this,” her dad said firmly.
“I agree with your father,” Christine replied.
Anna just walked out the door without a word.
She darted out of her neighborhood and across the street, leaves swooshing beneath her shoes. It was a brisk autumn morning, and she ran to keep herself from shivering. She walked to an old, rusty iron gate, carefully unlatched it, then stepped inside and closed it behind her. It was the entrance to Salem’s centuries-old cemetery.
Most people thought cemeteries were spooky, almost evil, but to Anna, it was a place of serenity. It was the perfect place for loved ones to be remembered.
She threw the burnt toast into a trash can and took the Pop-Tart from her bag, eating it as she walked up a small hill. She stopped at the most well-kept grave beneath a huge oak tree. Its beautiful red, brown, and gold leaves drifted down around it, making the entire scene look like a watercolor painting.
She put down her book bag and sat on the ground in front of the grave. In a soft, loving voice, she said, “Hi, Mom. I’m back.”
Anna was sitting in front of her mother’s grave, carefully eating and quietly talking to her, telling her everything. She had visited the night before, but she liked to visit before school. Somehow, it made her day less stressful. She was about to leave when Kayla Wiching and her older brother, Lynn, saw her and barged through the gate.
Kayla and Lynn had been bullying her since the first grade, and she never understood why. Her mother always told her that they would realize the error of their ways and be her friends someday, but after her mother died, it only got worse. It seemed like her extreme pain was their greatest pleasure.
Kayla had red hair, which was always in a long ponytail, and she was constantly flipping it off her shoulder when she talked. Being very athletic, she was stronger and taller than Anna, and she took advantage of that fact by shoving and knocking her down. Anna didn’t know how many times Kayla had bumped into her in the hallway on purpose and then blamed her, but Lynn was the one Anna disliked the most.
He looked like an ordinary boy with short, dyed-black hair and an acute, sarcastic attitude, but she just knew that he was heartless. Her mother’s death became his punchline every time he saw her.
“Hey, emo girl,” Lynn mocked, “Crying to your dead mommy again?”
“Can I just visit my mother in peace?” Anna replied, glaring at him.
“I bet you would even cuddle with her dead body in the coffin,” Kayla added.
Lynn laughed and agreed with his sister.
“You love her so much,” Lynn said to Anna sardonically as he and his sister began to slowly circle around her like vultures around their prey. “But she probably thinks that your whimpering is so annoying!”
Anna tried to run away from them, but Kayla pushed her back. She felt scared and angry, but she refused to act helpless.
“Lynn, you jerk,” she exclaimed. “I’m just paying respect to my loved one!”
“I’ll show you respect, freak!” Kayla shouted furiously, lunging at Anna.
Anna flinched and backed away, her heart pounding as she pressed herself against the old oak tree.
“Leave me alone!” she shouted.
Before Kayla could grab her, a strange sound came from behind them—a soft rustling, almost like wind moving through the trees.
Everyone stopped.
A boy stepped out from behind the gravestones.
He looked strangely out of place in the cemetery, almost as if he had simply appeared there. He watched Kayla and Lynn with an unreadable expression.
“Who the hell are you?” Lynn demanded.
The boy didn’t answer.
Everything happened so quickly that Anna barely understood it. There was a sudden blur of movement, a cry, and then silence.
Anna stared.
Kayla and Lynn were lying motionless on the ground in a puddle of blood, their lifeless eyes transfixed in horror. There were also deep gashes across both of their throats.
Her eyes slowly moved back to the stranger. There was blood on his clothes as well.
Her face went pale.
“What...what did you do?”
The boy only looked at her calmly.
Anna tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. The cemetery seemed to spin around her. Because she was hyperventilating, she couldn’t scream. She knew she should call 911, but her cellphone was in her book bag, and she couldn’t think.
Then everything went black.
After throwing her book bag into the trash can, Peter walked over to the unconscious girl and crouched beside her. From his pocket, he took a small pinch of the strange violet-black pixie dust and sprinkled it over Anna. The dark particles shimmered briefly in the autumn air before disappearing.
Peter smiled. “Welcome to Neverland, Anna.”
***
Anna slowly opened her eyes.
For several seconds, she didn’t move. She stared up at an unfamiliar crimson sky. Odd, glowing plants surrounded her, their leaves shimmering softly in the darkness. Off in the distance, she heard what sounded like horrific screams, but she told herself they were animal sounds.
She sat up abruptly and asked, “Where am I?”
A voice said, “You’re in Neverland.”
Anna spun around.
The boy from the cemetery stood a few feet away, looking completely at ease.
“You! You’re a murderer!”
He grinned.“I won’t hurt you. My name is Peter.”
Anna stared at him suspiciously. “How do I know that for sure? Peter what?”
“Just Peter.”
She looked around again. “This is Neverland?”
“That’s right.”
Anna shook her head. “Peter Pan isn’t real.”
She remembered her mom telling her the Peter Pan story when she was a little kid, and he didn’t look anything like what her mother had described. Where was the green? Where was his frizzy red hair? And his creepy, glowing eyes were the very definition of nightmare fuel.
He chuckled. “I never said I was Peter Pan.”
“But you said this place was Neverland.”
“It is.”
Anna frowned. She remembered the way he moved in the cemetery.
“You have powers,” she said quietly.
Peter’s smile widened. “Something like that.”
Anna pulled her knees toward herself. “Then why did you bring me here?”
Peter sat down nearby. “Because I saw how unhappy you were.”
Anna looked away.
“You miss your mother.”
Her expression immediately changed. “How do you know about my mom?”
“I know a lot about you, Anna.”
This made her uneasy.
Peter continued, “There’s someone in Neverland who can help you see your mom again.”
“Who?”
“The Demon Queen.”
Of course, Peter was about to lie. He didn’t know for a fact whether the Queen could bring the dead back to life, but he needed Anna to trust him so he could ensnare her and make her stay.
The word demon was jarring to Anna, but she stared at him and asked. “She can do magic?”
“She can do things that ordinary people can't even imagine.”
Anna's heart began beating faster. “What can she do?”
Peter leaned closer. “She can bring your mother back.”
Anna froze.
For a moment, she couldn't speak.
“That’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
“You’re lying.”
“Then why don’t you come with me and see for yourself?”
Anna looked down, struggling to process everything she had just heard.
“You really think she can bring Mom back?”
“I know she can.”
It was exactly what Anna had wanted to hear for years.
“But there’s a catch,” Peter added.
Anna looked up.
“You have to help me first.”
“Help you do what?”
“Find other Lost Kids.”
Anna frowned. “Lost Kids?”
“Kids who don’t belong. Kids who feel alone, misunderstood, or unwanted.”
Anna thought about Kayla and Lynn. About Christine. About coming home every day and feeling like she didn’t quite belong there. Her dad did try to make her feel heard, seen, and loved, but she still felt out of place in her own home.
“What happens to them?”
“They come here.”
Peter gestured toward the crimson, glowing forest.
“They get a place where they can finally be themselves. And you can help me find them.”
Anna looked at him for a long moment. “And after that?”
Peter smiled at her. “I’ll ask the Demon Queen to bring your mother back.”
Anna usually didn’t believe something so quickly, but the black pixie dust from before had already clouded her judgment, and desperation took over.
She slowly nodded. “Okay.”
Peter stood. “Then let's go find your first Lost Kid.”
***
Peter and Anna flew out of Neverland and into the ordinary world. The crimson sky and eerie forest disappeared behind them, replaced by a sprawling city below. She didn’t know exactly where they were, but she figured it was a big city like New York.
“So, how do you know where to find these Lost Kids?” Anna asked as they flew.
Peter glanced back at her with a grin. “I just know.”
Anna frowned but said nothing.
After flying for a while, they spotted a girl walking alone along a sidewalk. She looked no older than twelve and was carrying a large case that held an electric guitar.
“That’s her,” Peter said.
They landed a short distance away and approached her.
The girl was fair-skinned, with light-colored freckles scattered across her cheeks. Heavy black eyeliner made her coal-black eyes especially noticeable. Her long hair was brown, except for a purple stripe running through it.
She kept her eyes down as she walked, looking extremely introverted and awkward.
Anna gently approached her.
“Hi,” she said.
The girl stopped and looked at her suspiciously.
Anna glanced at the guitar case. “Do you play guitar?”
The girl hesitated, but Anna noticed her expression change slightly.
“What kind of music do you play?” Anna asked.
For the first time, the girl’s eyes lit up.
“Punk rock,” she said.
Anna smiled. “Seriously? That’s awesome.”
The girl gave a tiny smile.
“What’s your name?” Anna asked.
“Petrina Chaves.”
“I’m Anna.”
Peter stood behind Anna, quietly watching.
Anna noticed that Petrina seemed upset.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Petrina looked down at her guitar case, fighting the urge to cry.
“My mom kicked me out.”
Anna’s expression changed. “Why?”
Petrina hesitated.
“I wrote something in my diary.”
“What did you write?”
Petrina swallowed.
“That I had a crush on a girl. Mom said it was sinful.”
Anna looked at her sadly. She felt sorry for Petrina and was angry at her mother. Love was love, even at a young age.
“She kicked you out just because of that?”
Petrina nodded with tears in her eyes.
“There’s nothing wrong with liking girls,” Anna told her compassionately. “You’re just finding yourself. Those feelings are part of who you are.”
“Thanks,” Petrina said softly.
Anna felt a familiar ache in her chest. She knew what it was like to feel misunderstood and unwanted.
“You don't have to stay out here alone,” Anna said. “Come with us to a place where you can be yourself.”
Petrina looked between Anna and Peter suspiciously.
“Where?”
Anna glanced at Peter.
“Neverland,” he said with a smile.
At first, Petrina was confused and creeped out by Peter’s appearance and demeanor.
“This guy is a psycho,” she thought, “Neverland is just part of a story!”
But while Anna wasn’t looking, he quietly took a pinch of black pixie dust from his pocket and blew it into Petrina’s face.
Petrina blinked as the dark particles shimmered briefly in the air before disappearing. Her expression suddenly became calm, and the suspicion in her eyes faded. She was automatically under his control.
“Neverland?” she repeated.
“That’s right,” Peter grinned.
Petrina nodded without another question.
Anna smiled, unaware of what Peter had done. “Come on. You’ll like it there.”
Petrina swung her guitar over her back and followed them, leaving the case—and her troubles—behind.
Anna, Peter, and Petrina continued walking through the streets, looking for another Lost Kid. Petrina carried her guitar over her back.
Anna looked around. “How are we supposed to find another kid?”
Peter shrugged. “We’ll know when we see one.”
As they turned onto another street, Anna noticed a small boy sitting on the sidewalk near the entrance of a store. He looked about eight years old, with sickly pale skin. He had messy blond hair, tired-looking blue eyes, and worn clothes that looked like they had seen better days. He seemed fragile, meek, and lonely.
A small cardboard sign sat beside him that read, Money for food, please.
Anna slowed down.
The boy was quietly asking people for money.
“Please,” he pleaded to a passing stranger. “Anything helps. I just need enough to get something to eat.”
The stranger walked past without stopping.
Anna frowned.
“Peter,” she whispered, “Look at that boy! He’s too young to be alone at night.”
Peter looked at him and smiled. “Another Lost Kid.”
Anna walked toward him, with Petrina following behind her.
“Hi,” Anna said gently.
The boy looked up at her.
“Hi.”
“What’s your name?”
“Teddy.”
Anna glanced at the cardboard sign, then back at him. “Are you hungry?”
Teddy nodded.
“Have you eaten today?”
“Not since breakfast.”
Anna’s expression softened. “Where are your parents?”
Teddy looked down at the sidewalk.
“They’re home.”
“Do they know you’re out here?”
He shrugged. “They don’t really care.”
Petrina looked at Anna, her expression saddened.
His parents were horrible. They only fed him once a day—if they remembered. They never enrolled him in school. They told people he was homeschooled, but his schooling consisted of watching PBS on television.
Anna crouched down beside Teddy. “That’s not right.”
He looked at her curiously.
Then he noticed Peter standing behind her.
Teddy’s expression immediately changed. His eyes widened, and he nervously moved closer to Anna. “Who’s he?”
She glanced back at Peter.
“That’s Peter. He brought Petrina and me here.”
Teddy continued staring at him. Peter’s weird appearance and glowing eyes made him nervous.
Peter smiled. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
Teddy didn’t answer.
Anna gave him a reassuring smile. “He won't hurt you.”
Peter stepped closer, but Teddy instinctively backed away.
“Maybe we should give him some space,” Petrina said.
Peter stopped, but muttered under his breath, “A lost boy shouldn't be such a wuss.”
Anna turned back toward Teddy.
“You don’t have to trust Peter right away,” she said, “But you can trust me.”
Teddy studied her for a moment.
Anna smiled gently. “You said you’re hungry, right?”
He nodded.
“There’s a place where you’ll never have to worry about being hungry again.”
Teddy looked at her.
“Where?”
Anna said softly, “Neverland.”
Teddy looked nervous again.
“Is it safe?”
Anna hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yes.”
Peter watched quietly, waiting for Teddy to make his choice.
Teddy looked down at his cardboard sign. Then he looked back at Anna. “Can I come with you?”
Anna smiled. “Of course.”
Teddy still watched Peter cautiously, but something about him seemed familiar.
“Are you...Peter Pan?” he asked.
Peter simply smiled.
Teddy knew the Peter Pan story. He had heard it before, and he remembered how Peter was supposed to look. But maybe the grown-ups had gotten the details wrong. Maybe Peter wasn’t supposed to have green clothes or red hair after all.
As Teddy watched him, his fear slowly began to fade.
Peter was strange, but he didn't seem as frightening as he had at first.
“So you really live in Neverland?” Teddy asked.
Peter nodded.
Teddy smiled a little.
The more he talked to Peter, the more he began to like him.
Peter, Anna, Petrina, and Teddy continued down the street. Teddy walked beside Peter now, no longer as frightened of him as he had been at first. Peter had even stolen a corn dog from a nearby convenience store and handed it to Teddy.
“Thanks,” Teddy said happily as he took a bite.
“You're welcome,” Peter replied with a grin.
Anna smiled as she watched them. She was beginning to think that Peter really did care about the Lost Kids. Little did she know, this was manipulation masquerading as kindness.
As they turned the corner, Anna noticed something colorful on a brick wall.
“Hey, look!”
They stopped.
A thirteen-year-old girl was standing in front of the wall, holding a can of spray paint. She had brown eyes and beautifully braided black hair. A purple, round hat sat tilted to the left on her head, halfway covering one eye. Her chocolate skin was stained with splashes of ink and paint.
She carefully sprayed another line onto the wall, stepping back to examine her work.
Anna stared at the colorful artwork.
“She’s an artist,” Petrina said.
The girl noticed them watching and immediately lowered the spray can. She was spray-painting a female evil fairy. The creature had fiery red eyes, a distorted face, torn wings, and what looked like fangs protruding from her mouth. The amount of detail was remarkable.
“What?” she asked nervously.
Anna smiled. “That’s really good.”
The girl looked at the wall, then back at Anna.
“You think so?”
“Yeah. I love it.”
The girl smiled slightly.
“What’s your name?” Anna asked.
“Rose.”
“I’m Anna. This is Petrina, Teddy, and Peter.”
Rose glanced at Peter and stared at him for a moment. She looked at his strange clothes and creepy, glowing eyes, then took a small step back.
“You paint a lot?” Anna asked.
Rose nodded. “Pretty much whenever I can.”
“What other kinds of things do you draw?”
“Anything I feel like.”
Anna smiled. “I like that.”
Rose looked back at her artwork.
“Most people don't.”
Peter stepped forward with a faint smile. “Maybe you just haven't found the right place for your art yet.”
Rose looked at him curiously.
“What do you mean?”
Peter gestured toward the others. “We're going somewhere where kids can be themselves. No adults telling you what you should paint. No one judges you.”
Rose looked intrigued. “Where?”
“Neverland,” Peter said.
Rose stared at him. “Neverland? Very funny.”
“He’s being serious,” Teddy said, “It’s real! You should come with us.”
“Are you guys, like...okay?”
Petrina tried not to laugh.
Anna smiled awkwardly. “Yeah. We're okay.”
Rose looked between them suspiciously. “Are you sure? Because you all do know that Neverland is just from a story, right? It’s not actually a real place.”
“Is so real,” Teddy argued.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to go,” Petrina observed, "Maybe her parents are cool.”
Rose shrugged. “They’re hardly ever home. They’re both in the Army.”
Anna frowned. “So who do you stay with?”
“My Aunt Hannah.”
“Is she nice?”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Not really. She’s crabby all the time. She tells me my art is trash.”
Anna felt sorry for her. She knew what it was like to feel like you didn’t quite belong at home.
Peter watched Rose quietly.
“You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that in Neverland,” he said.
“You’re crazy,” she said.
Peter knew exactly what he needed to do.
While Rose was distracted, he quietly took a pinch of black pixie dust from his pocket. Before she could react, he blew it into her face.
Rose blinked, and her suspicious expression softened.
Peter smiled. “Come with us.”
Rose looked at the strange group again. Peter extended a hand to her.
She took his hand and said, “Okay.”
Anna smiled, unaware of what he had done again. “I bet you'll like Neverland.”
Rose looked at the spray-painted fairy one last time before putting down her can.
“Neverland sounds interesting.”
Peter’s smile widened.
“Yes, very interesting.”
Peter smothered the three lost kids in more black pixie dust like he was performing an unholy baptism. Afterward, he and Anna taught them to fly. Then, for the rest of the night, they went from state to state—recruiting kids to join them. Some believed him right away, but others were doubtful and had to be blasted with black pixie dust before they would come willingly.
By sunrise, Peter and Anna had over two hundred kids following them—ranging in age and too many to name individually.
Across America, there was an overwhelming number of reports of missing children. Police were baffled, and families were beyond terrified. It seemed as though the kids had simply disappeared into the darkness of the night, but no one suspected they were being wickedly lured away by someone they thought was nothing more than a storybook character.
The sun was out for only a few minutes when they finally arrived in Neverland. The Lost Kids never saw anything disturbing about the island because of the great amount of black pixie dust that was on them—and because the Demon Queen had set up a never-ending carnival with rides, games, and junk food. There was also a stage, speakers, and amplifiers for Petrina to play her guitar loudly every night.
The Lost Kids loved but feared the Queen. They thought she was beautiful, yet unnerving. They never wanted to displease her. Because there were so many of them, she let them stay inside her castle instead of Hangman’s Tree. She made them think she was a fearsome friend.
The Lost Kids knew they had a harsher ruler. Peter was their leader. Anna was second-in-command, and Petrina was third-in-command. Peter had always been the leader of the Lost Boys before, but this time around, it was more cult-like. He ruled with an iron fist, and they were beginning to think as one.
Most of the time, Peter let them play and say and do anything they wanted, but sometimes, because of his corrupted mind, if he felt that they had disobeyed or annoyed him in any way, he would beat them and blow black pixie dust in their faces. Afterward, they wouldn’t remember the beating, but they would still feel the pain from it. They would apologize profusely to him and not know why. Then, with an evil grin, he told them it was only a game.
Wendy had volunteered to stay in Hangman’s Tree with Hook, but she was still the children’s maid, nurse, and caregiver. Within weeks, she noticed something horrific. Due to being covered in black pixie dust daily, the kids’ eyes began to glow like Peter’s, and they became oblivious to the terror around them, forgetting who they truly were.
Even Anna, who had her mind and personality still intact in the beginning, was now just a shell of herself, with devilish eyes. She fixated on the chance of seeing her mom again. She had forgotten about Christine, her dad, and everything else.
Wendy deeply cared about these kids. With her sympathetic heart witnessing these cruel tragedies, she finally woke up from the Queen’s spell completely. She knew she had to do something.
One day, Wendy came up with a plan. She walked to the castle while the lost kids and Peter were asleep. She went to Aden and asked, “Can I control Hook like the Queen does?”
“Why?”
“Hangman’s Tree is such a pigsty,” she said, “I just need help cleaning it.”
This was a lie, of course, and she hoped Aden couldn’t read minds like the Queen could.
“Well…”
“Please, Aden, I’m exhausted!”
“Just give her the stone and spellbook,” the Queen told Aden, creeping up behind Wendy.
Wendy’s heart began to race. She thought she was caught, but to her utter surprise, it seemed like the Queen didn’t know she was lying
“Yes, my love,” Aden said, giving Wendy a red stone and a massive spellbook.
“The red stone holds some of my power,” the Queen explained, “and the book will tell you how to use it.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Wendy replied, curtsying and being very mindful of how fast she was breathing.
“Now, run along,” the Queen said, “Aden and I are planning something.”
Wendy quickly walked out of the room with the two things, not looking back. She wanted to get out of there before the Queen got suspicious.
“Was that wise, my love?” Aden asked as they watched Wendy run out of the castle, “Does that book have all of your spells in it?
“Yes,” she said, “and I didn’t read her mind completely. I’m sure she’s trying to help the pirate or the children, but the girl is too dumb to understand the wording and my sigils.”
She cackled at this.
Yet, underestimating Wendy would soon be a mistake that would haunt the Demon Queen forever.
Notes: Remember to lock your doors and windows, kids! Peter is watching!!😈👀Image created using AI tools (ChatGPT / image generation), but it's my concept. The story is 100% written by me.
©Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2026
Smooches and think Tink!
