Peter Pan and the Airship Darlings

The jungle seemed to shift around them as the eerie rustle faded into the fog. The silence that followed was so thick, so absolute, that it made the hairs on the back of Slightly’s neck stand on end. He stared into the shadows, his heart racing, trying to see through the twisted trees and heavy mist. But the island wasn’t giving anything away.

“Let’s grab it and go,” Slightly whispered, glancing back at Peter and Wendy.

Peter shrugged, as though the growing tension in the air was nothing more than another part of the game. “What’s the rush?” he said lightly, crouching back down to pick up the piece of metal.

Slightly swallowed the knot of anxiety building in his chest. The island didn’t feel right—it never had. But today, it felt worse, like it was waking up, aware of their presence in a way that sent chills through his bones.

“Peter,” Wendy said quietly, her eyes darting through the jungle, “I think Slightly’s right. There’s something... strange.”

Peter lifted the part from the ground and grinned, oblivious to the rising tension. “Strange is what we’re here for!” he said, tucking the piece under his arm. “Let’s get back. John’ll be thrilled.”

Slightly turned, his hand on the hilt of his sword as they began to make their way back. The jungle felt tighter around them now, the fog swirling and closing in as if the island was trying to trap them. Every step felt heavier, and the path that had once been clear seemed to twist and blur before their eyes.

Then came the sound again.

A low, rumbling growl echoed from the depths of the jungle, much closer than before. Slightly froze, his breath catching in his throat. His grip tightened on his sword as the others halted, all eyes turning toward the source of the sound.

“What was that?” Curly whispered, his voice barely above a squeak.

Before anyone could answer, the trees directly ahead of them shuddered, their branches trembling as something large moved through the underbrush. It wasn’t just the wind. Whatever it was, it was coming closer.

Peter raised his sword, his grin never fading. “Finally! Some real fun.”

But Slightly wasn’t smiling. His heart was pounding in his chest, every instinct screaming at him to run, to get everyone out of there. He glanced at Wendy, whose face was set in a mask of calm, though her eyes were wide. Michael clutched his slingshot, standing close to her side.

“Peter, maybe we should—” Slightly began, but before he could finish, the thing in the jungle lunged.

It was fast—faster than Slightly could have imagined. A massive shape, dark and camouflaged by the jungle, blending with the fog and shadows as it surged forward. For a split second, it was as though the island itself had come alive, the creature’s body formed from the trees and vines, its eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. The ground beneath them shook as it approached.

Slightly drew his sword in a flash, instinct taking over. “Back!” he yelled, stepping in front of the others, his heart racing.

The creature stopped just at the edge of the clearing, its body half-hidden in the mist. Its form was impossible to define—a massive, shifting mass of fur and leaves, with long limbs that seemed to melt into the surrounding trees. Its eyes glowed a faint green, fixed on them with an intensity that sent chills down Slightly’s spine. It let out another low, guttural growl, its breath like a hot wind through the trees.

Peter, undeterred, stepped forward, brandishing his sword. “Come on, then! Let’s see what you’ve got!”

“Peter, no!” Wendy shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him back.

Slightly stood his ground, though every part of him wanted to flee. His hands were shaking, but he couldn’t let the others see his fear. Lost Boys didn’t run. Not when it mattered.

The creature stepped closer, its massive form breaking through the trees, and Slightly’s breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t a game anymore. Whatever this thing was, it was hunting them, and it wasn’t going to let them leave the island easily.

“Everyone—behind me,” Slightly said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the fear gnawing at him. He could feel the others move closer, though Peter was still itching to charge forward.

The creature snarled, low and menacing, and took another step forward. Its body seemed to shift and stretch with every movement, as though it was made of the very jungle itself. Slightly raised his sword, his pulse thundering in his ears. He didn’t know what this thing was, but he wasn’t about to let it take them.

“Now!” Slightly shouted.

Peter, always ready for a fight, lunged first, his sword flashing in the dim light. The creature dodged, moving with unnatural speed, its limbs blending into the trees as though it was part of the island. It lashed out, sending Peter flying back into the underbrush with a force that knocked the wind from him.

Slightly didn’t hesitate. He rushed forward, sword raised, his instincts screaming at him to stop but his body moving on its own. He swung at the creature, feeling the weight of his sword connect with something solid. The creature roared in pain, its body twisting and recoiling, but it didn’t retreat.

Wendy pulled Michael and Tootles back, her eyes wide as she watched the fight unfold. “Slightly!”

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The creature was too fast, too strong, but Slightly kept swinging, dodging its attacks, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Every move felt like a blur, a rush of adrenaline and fear, but somehow, he was holding his own. For now.

“Peter!” Wendy shouted, running to where Peter had landed. He staggered to his feet, dazed but grinning.

“That’s more like it,” Peter said with a laugh, though there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

The creature let out another roar, its glowing eyes fixed on Slightly. He could feel the weight of its gaze, the primal fear clawing at the edges of his mind. But he couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t let the others down.

With one final swing, Slightly managed to strike a deep blow. The creature let out a deafening screech and retreated into the jungle, its form disappearing into the mist as quickly as it had appeared.

Slightly stood there, panting, his sword still raised, his body trembling from the effort. His mind was racing, but the danger was gone—at least for now.

Wendy ran up to him, her face filled with concern. “Are you all right?”

Slightly nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. “Yeah... yeah, I’m fine.”

Peter appeared beside them, dusting himself off. “That was fun! Let’s find another one!”

But as Peter charged ahead, Slightly remained where he stood, his heart still pounding. For the first time, he wasn’t sure if he could keep pretending everything was a game.

Returning the Part to John

The jungle seemed to exhale as the creature disappeared into the mist, leaving only the eerie silence behind. Slightly stood motionless for a few moments, his heart still pounding in his chest. The adrenaline rush that had kept him moving during the fight was starting to wear off, and his legs felt weak beneath him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wendy asked again, concern written all over her face as she approached Slightly.

He nodded quickly, swallowing his nerves. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but he wasn’t about to let anyone see that. Peter was already ahead, acting like they hadn’t just faced down something that could have easily torn them apart.

Wendy nodded and turned to Tootles and Michael, who were still wide-eyed from the fight. “Stay close,” she said, her voice steady. “We’ll be back at the boat soon.”

The walk back through the jungle was somehow even more oppressive than the journey in. The mist seemed to close in on them, thicker than before, as if the island was trying to push them out. Every sound—every rustle of leaves, every creak of the trees—felt like a threat, and Slightly’s nerves were on high alert. He kept glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting the creature to return, or worse, for something new to emerge from the fog.

Peter, of course, remained unfazed, his usual carefree attitude intact. He chatted easily as they trudged back, talking about their next adventure and what they might find on the next island. But Slightly barely heard him. His mind was still on the fight, on the way his hands had shaken when he drew his sword, the way his heart had nearly stopped when the creature had lunged at them.

He should have been braver. He should have been more like Peter.

“We’re almost there,” Wendy said softly, her calm voice a welcome break from Peter’s endless enthusiasm. She was walking close to Michael, her arm around his shoulders as they navigated the uneven ground. Michael hadn’t said much since the fight, and Slightly couldn’t blame him. The kid was tough, but even Neverland could be terrifying when it wanted to be.

The boat finally came into view through the fog, its small, familiar shape a beacon of safety after the chaos of the jungle. “We made it!” Peter declared triumphantly, dropping the mechanical part onto the ground beside the boat. “Told you it would be fun.”

“Let’s get this back to John,” Slightly said quickly, eager to leave the island behind.

Wendy helped Michael and Curly into the boat while Peter gave the island one last, almost wistful look before hopping in. Slightly climbed in after them, taking his seat at the bow as Peter untied the boat and pushed them off the shore. The fog around them swirled once more, but this time, it felt less menacing. As if the island had let them go—for now.

As they sailed away, Slightly kept his eyes on the dark outline of Hidden Island behind them, the heavy mist curling and twisting in the distance. The island was alive, he was sure of it. It had allowed them to leave, but it hadn’t wanted them there in the first place. And it certainly hadn’t made it easy for them to leave.

The ride back was quieter than before. Peter hummed to himself, already looking forward to the next adventure, while Wendy sat beside Michael, who had fallen asleep against her shoulder. Curly dozed at the back of the boat, lulled by the gentle rocking of the water.

Slightly stared ahead, his thoughts racing. He had done what Peter asked—he had led the group, kept them safe, fought off the danger. But instead of feeling proud, he felt hollow. Peter had been right—Neverland was full of adventures. But sometimes, the adventures didn’t feel like games.

By the time they reached the Banyan Tree, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the clearing. John, Nibs, and the Twins were still working on the airship, but when they saw the group return with the part, John’s face lit up.

“You found it!” he said, rushing over to examine the piece.

Slightly nodded, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah. Let’s hope it works.”

As John and the others got to work, Peter clapped Slightly on the back, his grin as wide as ever. “Good job today, Slightly. You did great.”

Slightly forced a smile. “Thanks.”

But as he stood there, watching the others, all he could think about was the island—and the feeling that he had barely made it out in one piece.