The Peter Pan in Black

*Note from the Author*

Please enjoy this boy's tale and let me know what you think. This is one of the many stories that I believe didn't make it into the Pens of Fate book, and they will be just my stories for giving those who can't handle gore little nightmares. I will continue to write for myself, not for the people who judge based on what the cover looks like. They will miss out on these torn pages that never age because of what is written in them. To my inner angels who kept fighting against the demons of my mind, I want to thank you for it. And to those inner monsters of mine, thank you for being my inspiration for the innocence that grew up from these stories. To the angels who stood beside me while I battled evil in my childhood, these books and stories will represent how you have been there for me. 

And to the younger me, who probably didn’t think growing up was a dream come true; you were going to do great things. Don't you ever look back and question the choices that lead you to the me that I have become...

If you guys want more Mini Horrors from the Grave, please leave a comment and like below. Share your ideas and I will listen. Now without further due, here's the boy's tale of learning how to properly grow up...

I watched the boy from a good distance. He was surrounded by little kids all dressed in bright colors that made him stick out like a sore thumb. His all-black outfit and death-like aurar gave me the creeps. I would have quit because of the way he tried to interact with me, but I needed this after-school job. I love working at this small town’s library, but if I have to keep dealing with parents complaining about their kids behaving oddly after the boy’s readings, I might just lose it. The parents wouldn’t elaborate on what the odd behaviors were but it seemed to me that they were afraid of something. I was afraid of something too…

As the kids slowly started to settle down, parents watched the boy’s movement closely, waiting to see what he would do when the children listened to his voice. A hush washed over the whole library as the goth teen held out a weird book in his lap. I felt a chill run down my spine as he opened the book. The room slowly began to spin and I felt lightheaded as I lost consciousness… 

I opened my eyes to see the boy standing over me with panic in his red contacts. I go to try to sit up but the boy pins me back down, looking over his shoulder. Just as I go to chew him out about it, I hear giggling coming from behind him. I started to open my mouth to question him, but the goth placed his hand over my mouth. Then I saw them… 

The goth stood up and tried to catch his breath as I pushed him off of me. I couldn’t hold the flood of questions that overcame me. As I forced the answers out of him my eyes widened. He started with his name (Ben Harrison) and why he started to work at the library (to work on his people skills) but how he got the job was the bombshell that hit me hard… 

“I have the gift of writing amazing stories that could take the reader on an adventure but I couldn’t read them to people, or something bad would happen,” Ben struggled to speak.

I realized that he had been reading to the kids for weeks. The books didn’t look like the library’s but I was always too busy to hear the stories.

“What did you do to those kids?” I asked.

“I-I told them not to leave my side when I took them here, but I lost most of them,” Ben started to cry, choking on the reality of the situation that we were now in as he continued, “I had to create replacements to keep the parents from finding out. I have been trying to get the kids back, but the replacements started to act out.” 

I looked around, taking in the surroundings. There were rainforest canopies above us and green everywhere. I looked down to find an old-looking notebook in the dirt. Ben’s eyes widened as I bent down to pick up the book. I slowly started to read out loud…

“Journal Log Day 52

They invited me in, yes but not for the reasons one would hope for. During my 52 days of being here, I have discovered ruins of the tribe’s bloody past. I, an adult with a full education, have noticed that the grown-ups are upset and the children have a Lord of the Flies mentality. They find growing up an act of betrayal that is punishable by death. In the ruins of the tribe, I have discovered that they hunt the adults that have gone into hiding, knowing very well that the children will not follow the adults to the ground. They asked me to help them, to which I of course, in fear for my own life, agreed. I brought a woman to them, my heart full of remorse as they took her to a hut to be killed. That night I freed her and I took her place, now I await to be fed to the sky fish. “

I looked back at Ben, who was shaking his head. He started to cry into his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. I glared at the goth in descuss. 

“Ben, where the fuck are we?” I started to yell. 

“This is a story based on an old English assignment, a fictional story that went wrong. I was supposed to write something light-hearted, but I wanted to show my teachers that growing up was a nightmare,” Ben’s voice was shaky as he continued, “The assignment was to write a story about a scientist who has recently discovered a giant, subterranean, freshwater lake in Antarctica. I was leading a team of scientists on an expedition to explore this newly discovered environment. My team spent six-months living underground on the shore of this lake, in the story. We made numerous surprising discoveries.”

“What were they? In the story I mean.” 

“I had to compose at least one, four-sentence, past-tense narrative, but I didn’t want to just a short story, so I wrote more than what I was told to. The story went like this; the name of the lake full of horrific discoveries is Titan’s Blood. This was a breeding area for a small subspecies of human children. They were blind and nocturnal and cabbalistic with a strong sense of smell and climbing abilities. What started as a team bonding exercise has become a death trap. There are only a few of us left and the children are still searching for us. This is a longer version of the story.”

I stared at Ben, not sure if I wanted to yell, scream, or sob. So I did all of it. Ben shook his head and continued.

“There’s more of this story. An anthropologist who was exploring the Amazon discovered a similar tribe of children that were living in the rainforest canopy, and they never age as long as their feet never touch the ground. They ride giant hummingbirds and swim in giant leaf pools that contain sky fish. They invited him to live with them. That’s the anthropologist’s notebook,” he said and pointed down at the book that was still in my hand.

Ben then snuck back behind a brush, pulling me with him as a creature crawled past us. It was one of the kids from the library, but at the same time, it wasn’t. I have seen this sweet little girl try to read to the others, but now I could barely recognize her. Her eyes were completely colorless and her clothes were torn. 

If growing up meant dying, then I would have just stayed a kid, I thought to myself… 

*Note from Adaline*

You have now made it to the end of this nightmare. I hope you can play nice with the demons hiding in the sandbox, waiting for you to grow out of your childhood. They are hiding in the shadows of the playground, waiting for fresh prey. And I will be there too, watching you grow. Will you play the demons or will you leave your past self alone at the park? I will extend my hand to guide you on this journey of fear, the real question is if you will take it or not...