I'm sure you have all heard the legend of Peter Pan, the never aging boy. You have all probably heard of a place called Never Never land, where no one ages, no one grows sick, and no one ever dies. I'm also quite sure that you have all heard of a writing technique called symbolism or perhaps satire. In your years, those many times you heard the story, did you ever believe, that there was truth to it. Did you ever once believe that Peter Pan was not just some made up tale, but that a boy with that calling actually existed? Peter Pan is not a story of fiction, but on the contrary, a true story, slightly altered.
It all started in 1666, in London, England. There once lived a boy by the name of Peter Pan. Peter was of a wealthy family and had only the best, yet when children tend to have everything they want, they tend to do something else. They tend to want more. Everything that Peter ever desired was laid down at his feet. Yet Peter knew, that when he aged, the role of the moneymaker would be passed down to him. Peter did not want this to happen. Why should he work? He wanted things to be given to him. He also saw that as his family grew older and older, they grew weak. Peter was not the weak type. As the dreaded time grew nearer and nearer, Peter sought out a way to prolong his youth. At the age of eighteen, he found it. One night, Peter wandered around the streets of London and he came across a dark figure. Peter saw a cloaked figure, typical trash, and he intended to pass her by for she was a commoner, but the commoner in the cloak grabbed him by the arm and ceased his walking.
"Peter Pan." Said the dark figure.
"Unhand me," Peter exclaimed as he withdrew his arm from the commoner's grasp. "How did you know my name?"
"I know more than simply your name, Peter." The dark figure pulled the hood of the cloak away from it's face. Peter gazed upon the most beautiful and at the same time horrid woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Her long hair was silver in color, and her skin was pale. Her eyes were deformed her iris were blue, and the rest of her eyes were yellow. Her lips were scarred and looked as if they had been sewed shut at one period of time. Despite these odd features she was amazingly beautiful. Peter fell in love with her and pondered of his fancies identity. He didn't know her, how could she know him? Who was she? What was her name? Then the maiden spoke, "'Tis not important."
"Pardon, I didn't say anything?"
"My name, you wished to know it? 'Tis not important."
"How did you know that I queried of your name?"
"You wear your thoughts like garments, Peter."
"You can read minds?"
"Only feeble ones."
"How is that possible?"
"All things are possible, and everything is not as it seems. Peter, your desire is not out of your grasp. You can live forever and retain eternal youth."
"A deal Peter, infact a game. I will give you the ability to feed upon the living, draining them of blood while prolonging your life. When the night falls you shall fly amongst the stars."
"What do you get out of it?"
"I will let you have any mortal you wish, yet your soul will be my masters. When I call upon you, you must come. And then my love, we shall be together forever."
"What is your name?"
"That's a bizarre name."
"Do we have a deal Peter?"
"Yes, yes we do."
"Good, very good." Hooks clutched the back of Peter's head, locked her lips upon his delicate neck, and sank her teeth deep within his veins. That moment was a moment that would change the outcome of hundreds of people's lives, or deaths rather. It was a moment of dark ecstasy and nothing seemed real. When it was over, she was gone, and Peter lay there crying. A dark shadow had been cast upon him.
For the next eighty years Peter roamed the streets at night, he slaughter innocents and was even as cruel to murder and feast upon his own parents. He killed and took the lives of hundreds. He fed upon his lost children, lost girls, and lost boys. They became his dark slaves of the night. They never grew sick and they never grew old. Due to their murderous crimes they were forced to flee rather than be discovered by Scotland Yard. They found a small cottage, where all vampires could come and have sanctuary. They called it Never Never Land, for those who inhabited the cottage never aged and never died. Yet with every kill and life that Peter took he lost a little more of his soul. His soul was his companion that told him right from wrong. And every time that Peter took another life, Hooks gained a little more of Peter's soul. One day Peter saw the most beautiful girl and he wanted her. He lusted for her. His age was ninety-eight years old but he had the body of an eighteen year old. He walked among the people of London, and learned of her. Wendy was her calling. And he yearned for even more. He learned of where she lived, her family, and that her window is always unlocked. He was her predator, and she was his prey.
One late night, as Wendy lie there sleeping in the nursery with her two brothers' beds next to hers, poor Wendy was awaken by sobbing. She awoke and gazed in the middle of the nursery. There was Peter, upon his knees, crying into his hands. "Boy," the innocent Wendy asked, "Why are you crying?"
"You are so precious, it's a pity you have to die!" And at that moment, from every corner of the room, the lost children attacked. Wendy's brothers and parents screamed but only in vain, for they were all slaughtered. Wendy watched as her family was drained of blood and life. She watched as their necks were broken and they were feasted upon.
She leaped from her bed and went to attack Peter. "No!!!! NO!!!!!!!"
Peter caught her by the throat. "Poor unfortunate creature. Sleep my love, eternally." And he plunged his teeth deep within her neck. Peter had finally won his prize and he indulged and feasted upon his precious Wendy. He could feel her die within his grasp. Then suddenly out of nowhere the dark, cloaked, hooded, and mysterious Hooks appeared. "Hooks," he said as he set the dying body down. He calmly walked toward her, "Hooks, my friend. It's been a long time."
"Yes it has Peter." Hooks pulled the hood away from his face.
"Oh, still as beautiful as ever, Hooks."
"Perhaps." Then Hooks separated her robes and revealed hundreds of hooks. "Hooks is a bizarre name don't you think?" And as Peter gazed in confusion, hundreds of hooks plunged deep within him, and they dug deep within in his skin. They twisted and they turned, torturing Peter.
"Ahhh!" He screamed in pain. As he writhed in agony he beheld an eerie sight. He watched as Hooks face melted into that of a grown man. The man had pale skin, long black hair, deep black eyes, and a long black beard. "What?"
"I warned you Peter, things are not what they seem. And now that your soul is completely mine, and I have called, it is time to meet master. Prepare to journey to the pits of hell." And as young Wendy lie there dying, you could still hear Peter screaming as Hooks drug him into the darkest pits of Hell.
Now that my dear friends, is the true story of Peter Pan.