Devourer of Men: A Captain Hook, Crocodile, and Wendy Darling Reimagining

I can’t find the Captain anywhere.

Where the fuck did he run off to?

The panic is crowding in on me like an unwanted house guest.

I don’t care if something happens to the Captain. So why the fuck does it feel like I do?

I pull out my pocket watch and check the time. The ticking of the secondhand is a comfort and a warning.

I am dangerously close to shifting.

I search the entire third floor of the castle, popping into rooms that are sometimes empty, sometimes not. Everyone is frustratingly unhelpful including the man that tried whacking me with an iron poker.

He howled like a cat when I drove it through his foot.

On the second floor, I check all of the sitting rooms, the ballrooms, other fucking rooms with no clear purpose other than to house more fucking chairs.

He is gone.

Did he leave me again?

I wander into a hallway off the main corridor and spot a figure lying on the floor, blood pooled like a halo around a head of dark straight hair.

I think I know who it is, but I want to be sure it’s not a trap.

I pause, listening for anyone nearby, but there is only the soft, steady thumps of a human heart.

I take another step.

That heartbeat sounds familiar.

When I reach the figure, I crouch down on a knee and examine her face.

This is the woman who Wendy walked away with. But she is also the woman who was eavesdropping on me in the kitchen—I recognize the pattern of her heart beat.

I’m impressed.

“Hey,” I say and snap my fingers.

The girl lurches awake. In an impressive few seconds, she’s behind me, one arm wrapped around my neck, the other locked over it.

“That won’t work,” I tell her, but my voice is stilted by the lack of air flow.

She says nothing, but I feel her unsteady balance, likely from a concussion.

“Why don’t we talk like adults,” I suggest.

She is still silent. I admire her tenacity.

I let the solid state of my body shift and my edges turn to wisps.

The girl gasps in surprise.

I take a fistful of her hair and vault her over my head. Her chokehold slips away and she thuds on her back on the floor, wheezing out air.

She rolls to all fours quickly, hacking, spitting.

“I did try to warn you,” I tell her, rising to my feet. “What happened?”

“What?” She sucks in a deep breath.

“Who attacked you?”

She gets to her knees, sways, wipes at her mouth. Her gaze is distant but cutting.

“Why the fuck do you care?”

“Because last I saw you, you were with Wendy. Where is she now?”

The girl hurries to her feet. “Shit.”

“Yes. What happened.”

“He hit me. Theo.”

“The guard?”

The girl nods.

“Where would he have taken her?”

“I honestly don’t know. There are many options.”

“Let’s start with the most obvious.”

She blinks several times like she’s trying to think straight, then, “The dungeon.”

I nod. “Show me.”