The Neverland Wars

Chapter 14

Emma

I return from my vending machine mission empty-handed, hungry, and disappointed. Peter's backpack is in the same place he put it when he used it as a pillow, only he's gone. I kneel beside his pack touching it and realizing it's still warm. He hasn't been gone long.

"This way, Mr. Angel," I hear a small voice say. I turn my head just in time to see a small child leading Peter by the hand out of a door into the theater. His walk looks strange to me, his steps short and dragging, like he's sleepwalking. A closer examination of the child reveals she's wearing a tattered and faded pink dress, her hair pulled up into a ponytail with a dirty white bow on top. Her skin is grey, colorless, and her eyes are literally glowing in her head, bright golden orbs that bear unblinkingly into Peter as she smiles.

My heart races in panic as they leave, and I jump to my feet, grabbing my hand cannon and following them out the vacuum door.

The small creepy girl is singing softly to Peter as she leads him down the hall to the main staircase into the auditorium, and he stumbles along after her silently.

"Peter," I whisper, holding my gun in front of me just in case the little girl decides to go crazy and attack us. "Peter!"

He either doesn' t hear me or doesn't care enough to turn around, and I sneak closer to them still. The little girl seems to see me, her yellow eyes falling on me for just a moment, but my presence doesn't seem to bother her. She's fixated on Peter.

"Peter," I repeat, louder this time, more forcefully. He continues walking, and I reach out and grab his arm, yanking him away from the child. "Peter stop!"

He turns to me, and I stumble backwards in shock, horrified that his eyes are glowing just like the little girl's. He smiles at me, and though I usually find his smile calming, this is an exception. He's terrifying.

"Em, you've got to see what I see," he reaches for me, and I evade his grasp.

"What did that thing do to you?" I ask in shock.

"Nothing," he smiles. He grabs my hand, squeezing it reassuringly despite the sparks of electricity that crackle at my fingertips. "Do you trust me?"

"I don't understand—"

"Do you trust me?" He repeats, and despite the situation, I find myself nodding slowly. He places his hand on the side of my face, and I'm instantly warm, my whole body buzzing with a feeling that makes me grin.

What was I so worried about? This is amazing.

I glance down at myself, surprised to find I'm wearing different clothes: a pair of brown trousers with a white top and suspenders. My pale blonde hair is loose, falling in waves past my shoulders. Glancing at Peter, I realize he's dressed differently too, wearing black pants with a grey button up shirt. His hair is styled in a certain way, sort of waving over to the side in a purposely messy manner. His scar is also completely gone, his face perfectly unmarred. I've never seen him look like this. He's...handsome. When did he change out of his mission suit?

"Look at you," he grins, his dimples carving into his cheeks.

"Your hair," I stammer, flushing. I don't think I've ever seen him in clothes like this before. "It's nice. You look nice."

The very hallway around us has completely changed. What was once decayed and rotting away is shiny and new again. Crimson colored carpet paves the way to the auditorium, with golden tassels hanging from the ceiling, creating columns against the wall. A faint music is playing, it's a song I don't recognize but I like it. It's something sort of slow and jazzy. The little girl with the glowing eyes is now a normal child with rosy cheeks, giggling when I look at her.