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And I am so good at lying.
I am dead inside. And so fucking bored. And the only thing I have to look forward to is being kidnapped by a myth. Happy fucking birthday to me.
Today is my 18th birthday and every Darling woman that has come before me has disappeared on this day. Some are gone a day, others a week or a month. But they always return broken, with varying degrees of sanity intact.
Pirates and Lost Boys and fairies. And him.
A legacy of madness that I stand to inherit.
“Oh, Winnie.” Her voice catches. “He can get in anywhere.”
And it had to be mine. Maybe we’re all mad, in our own way.
Then he drops her, snaps his fingers, and everything goes dark.
We don’t fuck the Darlings because fucking Darlings is what got us into this mess. We don’t fuck the Darlings. We just break them.
In the mirror, I don’t recognize my reflection. I am a king who has no throne. Fucking Darlings. Fucking Tink.
Even a king without a throne demands attention. “He has risen,” Bash says.
Save the king, save the island.
“In your world,” I tell her, “I believe you might have called us fairies.”
“If you say those words, a fairy dies. It’s as simple as that. So promise me you won’t say it.”
“You think this is fun for us? Watching Pan slowly die right in front of our eyes?
Lost Boys are just misfits, the ones who don’t belong or who never wanted to grow up.”
“Three, two, one. One, two, three. Better watch out: Peter Pan is going to murder thee.”
So when I grab the back of the boy’s chair and punch at his chest, I go straight through bone, claw my fingers around his heart and tear it out. Blood sprays, painting the night in spots of crimson.
When I turn back to the Darling, a heart in my hand, her eyes are full of tears. Good. She needs to know…there are no white knights here. Just monsters. And I am the worst one.
“Because in this world, and in yours, if you’re not the monster, then you’re the prey.
“Even the mighty oak believes she is strong until a man comes along with an ax to chop her down.” “Is that you then? Do you have an ax?” “All men are born with an ax in their hands, Darling. To take the measure of a man, you just have to pay attention to how he wields it.”
