"Pan," my breath is but a whisper. "Pan."

I doubt he can hear me, or is even aware I'm calling to him.

The one time he isn't breathing down my neck, watching me, is the one time I need him the most.

My brain isn't one for coming up with plans. I've gotten very good at rushing into action, but not at planning a move. The cave is guarded by a hidden door, held up by rope. I can't get the jump on them.

Unless I hold Sam hostage.

I turn around, looking for the boy to grab, watching as he re-enters their hideout.

Great, there goes my only chance at an advantage.

Maybe I could lure them out of the cave.

I hit my fist off the wall, attempting to make a sound they will hear. Instead, my hand throbs as the bones collide against the hard rock. I cradle my hand, attempting to let go before holding it again. The pain is sharp, and makes my eyes water.

As if the situation couldn't get worse. Now I'm supposed to fight and free my kidnapped friends with an injured hand. I hope nothing's broken. Thankfully I hit the rock with my left hand and not my right. If I had, then I'd really be in trouble.

I almost scream for Pan, parting my lips until I decide that is not a good idea. If they know someone is out here, then I won't be able to surprise them. Angry, I sit down on the ground.

I can't do this on my own, there's no way. Not only am I not strong enough, but not fast enough and not smart enough to take on a group of boys. Maybe I should respect Alex more; he'd know what to do in this situation.

I need to get Pan's attention. He definitely knows where I am, how could he not? He just needs to have a reason to come to me.

Maybe if I scream then he'll come. I give up on the stealthy approach. The harsh sound escapes my lips in a screech as I try to make it sound as pained as possible.

That won't work though, he somehow knows when we are injured or not. As if he can feel our pain.

Sam and Fred both leave the cave, and I duck behind once again, letting them look around in shock. I manage to scramble on top of the rock, lying my body flat against the sharp roof and draping my cloak overtop of me. I grabbed a green one today, so hopefully the colour will help me to blend into the plants. If not, I'm so screwed.

I roll onto my back, pulling my dagger out from my belt. In order to get Pan here, I need to be in pain.

Quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. That's what I tell myself, as my shaking fingers can't manage to move the dagger from where it's pressed against my left hand. I already hurt myself there, so the pain of the knife can't be much worse than the pain of the broken bones.

This can't be happening. My friends are kidnapped because I was foolish and lazy, and now I'm alone in the forest with no choice to save them except to injure myself. I have to hurt myself to save my friends.

I slash, biting my lip as my breathing gets heavier. It burns, and the blood pools out of the cut. I wrap my hand in the cloak, trying to hold the blood in. The cloak scratches against the cut hurting more, and I bite my lip to keep myself from crying out. Don't make a sound, or they'll find you.

"Pan," I whisper again.

He still won't come.

I quickly cut my hand again, and the blood drips on to the grey rocks below. Maybe it needs to be intense pain.

At least, that's why I wasn't giving myself papercuts. I was cutting quite deep, enough to coat my hand in a layer of blood.

Peeking over, I notice the two boys below me. I grunt before throwing my body down next to them, not giving myself the time to decide if this is the right decision. They look a little shocked to say the least, and I raise my red dagger at them with my non-bloody hand.

Sam only chuckles, as he winds his hand up and punches me. I duck out of the way, but not out of the way of the second hand he threw. Was the first a distraction? I don't know.

I hit the ground, and my dagger skids to the side. Fred purses his lips together and picks it up, as Sam grabs me by the front of my cloak, lifting me off the ground.

This is embarrassing to say the least. Not only did I manage to get my friends captured, I injured myself, then essentially gave myself to the enemy. Without even a fight.

Sam pins both my arms behind me, moving me into the cave, before slamming me down on the ground. He ties my hands up, before violently rolling me on to my front. As he stands up, he spits on me.

As disgusting as it is, I probably deserved that.

What was I thinking, spitting on him the other day? I was being prideful, but now it's just come to bite me in the ass.

"What's he doing in here?" Dominique asks, before turning his head to the others. "What's he doing in here?"

I don't pay much mind to him as I look over. Harry and Alex are gagged, tears, blood and sweat staining their foreheads. While Harry looks fearful and on the verge of panic, Alex seems to exude anger. Felix is next to them both, bound in rope all around his body. He's either unconscious or sleeping and I wouldn't know which.

It's a relief to know they are ok, but less of a relief when I realise we aren't going to be able to escape. Nobody is coming for us, in fact, nobody knows where we are. As far as I know, even I've disappeared from Pan's tracking.

If we don't die here, we could be tortured, starved, or forced to watch each other die.

"He was outside, and tried to attack us." Sam's voice rings out. "So I brought him in here."

"Without letting the dissap set in?" Dominique yells.

Dissap?

I watch as Sam's lips purse together. "I didn't even use it."

Dominique whips his head around to look at me, then turns back to Sam. His voice is in a harsh whisper, the words blurring together as I try to differentiate between them.

The words I do catch lead me to believe that he's simply just insulting Sam. Boring.

I look back at Harry, who is next to me on the wall. There's no way I can get out of here. He gestures down to the side of his cloak. I turn my back to him, struggling to reach in with my tightly tied hands. My hand clasps around something sharp.

It's a knife. It's Gertrude.

Ripping it out of his pocket, I struggle to hold it up to the ropes my hands are tied with. If I can saw myself out of here, I can saw Harry and Alex out, and they'll know what to do. I may have gotten us into this mess, and it seems in a way I'll be getting us out.

If you count getting us free as out.

Before I can begin to slice the ropes, I feel someone pull me up by my neck. The knife crashes on to the cold stone floor, ringing, and the air stops short in my throat. I'm not choking, but it feels like I'm breathing through a tube.

"See, he even has a knife." Dominique's voice fills my ear, before he throws me down on to the ground.

I can't brace my fall, but I manage to fall on my side. At least it was my ribs and not my head that collided with the ground. I roll on to my back as Dominique hoists me up by the collar of my shirt.

I get shoved back into Sam, who manages to catch me instead of tumbling down with me.

"We could still use the dissap." Fred speaks. I don't know if I've heard him talk before.

"We already have three hostages." Dominique yells. "If we have a fourth our hostages out-number us! Just go kill him."

That's when the panic hits me. They are going to kill me, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

I don't give them the satisfaction of hearing me scream, but as Sam holds me, and I struggle in his arms, I watch Harry struggle to get up. Alex sticks his feet out, which are tied together, in attempts to keep Harry on the ground. He gives him a sad look.

It works.

The door opens, and Sam pulls my thrashing body outside. He didn't manage to tie my feet up, so I kick him and run. A hand is on my ankle, and I trip, falling on to the ground. My body aches with the impact. I'm dragged backwards by foot, more like a sack then like a living breathing human.

Sam straddles me, and I can't fight back. It seems as though I'm all tied up.

"Pan!" I scream.

Sam digs through his pocket and gags me. The dirty fabric scratches my tongue, and makes me feel like I'm about to choke on my own tongue. Funny, I always knew my tongue would come back to haunt me, but I thought it would be because I have a habit of saying nasty words.

Sam tosses Fred a rope. I kick as the tightly wound material is tied around my ankles, but I'm powerless to stop it.

I'm powerless.

Sam moves off of me once Fred has finished the knots.

"We shouldn't kill him here." Fred tells Sam. "If the Lost Boys find the blood, they'll figure out we're in Baelfire's cave. We should move to the beach."

"The beach?" Sam nearly yells. "That's miles away. At least 3, and that's if we head to pirate's bay."

"Well than we should at least move a mile north," he says. "Or west, closer to the camp."

"We'll walk ten minutes," Sam answers. "Then he dies."

I refuse to cry.

Sam grumbles, removing the rope from around my ankles. We move forward, as I begin to plan my escape. I should walk with them for the ten minutes until we stop. That way, it'll be a shorter distance to get back to camp. If I run, it should only take an hour.

"Don't get any smart ideas about running." Sam nearly reads my mine. "If you run away, Alex and Harry will be dead before you get even halfway back to camp."

There's no doubt in my mind that I could outrun these idiots. But that doesn't mean I think I can get back to camp before they get back to Dominique. I'm not even sure I could find my way back to the camp from here, not without help. After all, the entire island is just trees and more trees. Unless I get to the shore, there's nothing distinct about Neverland.

We continue to walk in silence until we are no longer walking. Sam pulls me back, before kicking my legs out from beneath me.

He removes the gag.

"Pan!" I screech.

Sam slaps me, but I continue. "Peter!"

"Peter, Peter." He mocks whining. "Please, don't make me regret ungagging you. I was so very looking forward to hearing you beg for your life."

"I'm not going to beg." I spit.

He clocks me at the base of the back of my head. I flinch forwards, struggling to keep my balance. The world is spinning, and I can feel the pain along my brow bone.

I look up, only to feel his fist collide with my cheek. I still manage to stay on my knees.

My eye hurts so very much. A substantial amount of pain.

His grubby fingers grab hold of my chin as he twists my face to examine it. The fingers of his free hand trail across the cuts along the side of my face.

"Who gave you that?" He asks. "A better question, where was Pan for that?"

He tosses my head back, before reaching in his pocket. He slices my face, directly next to the second one. He doesn't go all the way down like Samuel did. Sam begins at my hairline and stops at my cheek bone.

"Look, another to match."

I scoff. "The boy I killed gave me that. Funny, he has the same name as you."

Sam returns the scoff. "You didn't kill Samuel, but nice try though."

"Maybe I didn't mean Samuel." I said. "Maybe I meant you. You did just scar me, did you not?"

"Are those your last words?" He asks, as he digs the blade into my neck.

I flinch away, but I feel the slight trickle of blood down my neck.

I look over to Fred. He has his back turned to me, only daring glance over his shoulder. Too cowardly to speak up, yet still too cowardly to watch me die. Pathetic.

"Snarky words coming from such a scared face." Sam pretends to have pity for me.

I don't have a witty retort this time. Not when it sinks in that he's going to kill me.

"Say please." He instructs. "Ask me not to kill you."

I will never beg for my death. "I would rather die." My voice cracks.

He straightens, tightening my neck to the blade. "See, that isn't what I wanted."

He slices down, but the blade cuts me along my left hand, joining the others I had left. I refuse to cry out in pain.

He slices a second time, and I still refuse to scream.

"Let's try this again." He says. "Beg."

I can't see him, as I've squeezed my eyes tightly shut, and have shut my mouth so hard I doubt I'll ever open it again.

He slices me again. "You know what, I'd rather hear the fanboy denounce his master. Admit Pan is a demon."

"He's not a demon." I look up at Sam, almost chuckling. "You are a foolish boy, to think you more powerful than him. You can kill me, but you can't kill him. He'll win, and you'll lose."

He scoffs. "You'd give your life to keep your loyalty intact? Pity."

His arm moves back, but this time he's not aiming at my hand. I freeze, waiting for death to hit.

I'm not ready, but no one ever is. Nothing I want to accomplish before I left is accomplished, but I believe Pan will save us all.

I believe.

~~~~~

I mean, it's not Tuesday, but it will be soon.

I like this, and I like what it stands for. Charlie is a mess, or whatever. She shouldn't have rushed in like that, and look where it's got her. Dead.

Would you denounce Pan for your own safety? Let me know in the comments.

As always, take a second for yourself, and I'll see you Thursday.