Neverland dark nights

Foreword:

I’m going to shock a couple of you around there but I have to confess something. I’m not a big fan of Walt Disney’s work of sweetening/softening/censoring the classics of juvenile literature.

Peter Pan was written by J.M. Barrie and is a harsh tale on refusing to grow old, on the different figures of womanhood and ruthlessness of children. In the end Hook dies killed by Peter who will take his place as the captain of the pirate ship because good cannot exist without evil (which is another theme of Barrie’s novel, you don’t get to live happily forever after).

My Pan is inspired by Barrie not by the cartoonist from Chicago. It is also a tale for Vampire lovers and therefore if you have stumbled upon this page by mistake and are not ready to go for adult themes such as sex, and I’d go back if I was you.

A few years ago a French (or was he Belgian?) comic book writer, named Régis Loisel, made an much more mature adaptation of the book and I can only recommend you all to have a look at it if you ever get the chance.

Please also take in account that this story was written by an Englishman at the beginning of the last century (XXth). The conformist way of speaking about the native Americans was not a big hit at the time so please don’t me on this. I just can hardly speak about native Americans in Neverland. Consider that the “Indians” are like any other creature in Neverland made of the dreams of children and are more of a fantasy associated to adventure rather than a persecuted minority in the actual US. So please accept the fact that I’ll be speaking of red-skins and Indians as a poetic licence.

Of course, all characters depicted in this story are of age and no mermaids were hurt in the process of making this story...

Now let’s move to the story.

***

Tinker Bell is sitting on the higher most pick of the mountains of Neverland.

She is in a foul mood. All fairies, because of their size, are only able to experience one feeling at a time and they tend to take those to heart.

She feels anger because Peter is now the Pirate Captain and in contact with is new merry companions he is actually growing old. When the English girl left back to her hometown the never aging kid changed. Pan’s formerly soft cheeks are covered by an irregular nascent beard. His voice has changed too, from time to time, when he is shouting or excited his voice breaks. The sound he makes reminds her of the screetching of a fork against a pan. With Hook gone for good and the lost boys found again he moved away from the fairies. He left the little clearing they used to call home and he’s now living on the Jolly Rodger. Most of his free time is spent with that redskin twat. Free time, come on, the notion is actually an aberration when talking about Peter. She’s pretty sure that what she heard a couple of nights ago when she flew around the tipi of the Indian princess weren’t laughs.

The thought infuriates her but when a shooting star crosses the sky she realizes that the night has fallen and that she will have to fly back to Pixie Hollow in the dark. Her anger is replaced by subtle fear.

She unfolds her tiny dragonfly wings and jumps off the rock she’s sitting on. A strong south wind rises, pushing her back towards the mountain. She takes out her bag of stardust to power up her flight but something hits her and sends her flying into some bushes. Pestering in the chiming language of fairies she emerges from the mountain range to find herself in front of an enormous bat.

There shouldn’t be any bats in Neverland. All things on the island are made of dreams and bats are the stuff of nightmares. Tinker Bell has encountered some while flying in the world of humans but never in Neverland.

This particular bat is different, its figure is vaguely human, a sculptural but crude female form to be more precise; its fangs, dripping saliva, are particularly big, its grey fur is covered with dark stains. It looks very hungry and it seems that Tinker Bell might be on the menu. As the bat jumps for her she takes off dodging it. The creature is on her tail, she tries a couple of maneuvers but it sticks to her like a gum to a shoe on hot day in the summer. For a moment she looses it in the trees but as soon as she feels safe it’s on her back again. She flies and flies all around the mountain but the bat gains on her as she grows tired. She can hear the leathery flapping of the wings behind her. She can sense the tiny claws reaching for her ankles. All that she feels at that moment is terror; she’s never felt so much horror. Not so far in front of her are the Great Plains, if she can make it there she’ll hide in the tall grass, if she makes it…

But she doesn’t. The animal grabs her in its claws ripping her tiny clothes in the process and drags her towards the moon in the night sky. Caught under the beast, she’s unable to move. She screams and screams but her voice is covered by the flapping of the gigantic wings. The monster looks at her and draws her nearer to its saliva dripping muzzle. She can feel the fangs of the creature tearing her apart, feasting on her flesh and blood, but where there should be pain there is only a new sensation. A feeling Tinker Bell has never experienced, a feeling of warmth growing in her guts, in her loins, in her tiny vagina. She screams even more, but now it’s for something else. As life abandons her little carcass, she drops the tiny bag of stardust she’s holding, sparkling too generously the nightmarish creature and suddenly she’s free, falling towards the ground...

Propelled by the stardust, an astonished vampire bat flies toward the horizon; the amount of fairy dust it’s been dosed with guarantees him to fly for a long time, a long long time. It might land, someday, or not… But something is sure; in the future it will avoid at all costs this strange Island, second to the right, and straight on till morning.

When Tinker Bell opens her eyes, everything is dark around her. She tries to move but her whole body seems wrapped in some kind of cocoon. She kicks and punches until her tiny fingers start reaping the paper-like fabric.

The night is much older now but the morning and the sun are still far away below the horizon.

As she frees herself from the cocoon around her she starts pestering. The sound she makes is different, huskier, deeper. She stops. She speaks again, her voice has changed. She kind of likes it. She feels it somehow makes her more powerful, she feels that now her opinion will be taken in account by her sisters, that her queen will stop seeing her as an immature childe, that Peter will have but to listen to her. She grins… Peter… As she evokes the never aging kid, she realizes that her feelings towards him have changed, oddly it makes her mouth water.

She tries to jump and fly away but her wings won’t respond as they used to. She falls disgracefully into a puddle. She stumbles around fulminating even more before stopping abruptly. She looks at the water and a funny looking little fairy is looking back at her. She has tiny bat wings, tiny claws; her tiny eyes reflect a hunger burning with more dedication than the tar pits of Saddam. The Demon looks back at Tinker Bell smiling. From the tiny mouth a pair of tiny fangs stands out. The face of the creature looks terribly familiar, the fairy now smiling even more touches her body. Her breasts have grown bigger, her ass is firmer.

Enjoying the view of her new self, she rubs a finger against her twat finding it all wet. She can’t restrain a moan. From the pleasure, her fangs extend a little more, but she knows exactly where she’ll put them next.