Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

A Bunch of Hook/Pan Oneshots	By : lexyhamilton Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Slash Views: 9605 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Written 6/19/04

Title: A Boy of Parts
Pairing: Hook and Pan. Wouldn’t really put the '/' in this one.
Rating: R
Warnings: Gore. Snuff. And subsequent necrophilia.
A/N: I have been remiss in my devotion to Jas lately. So here's a small offering, written rather hastily. I suspect it is the result of a prolonged bad mood coupled with the butcher-y nature of my current occupation. No challenge prompted this, so all asininity is entirely my own.

Neverland had been very still since it happened—blessedly peaceful at first, monotonous by now. He was glad that he had left himself keepsakes by which he might remember. It was with a naturalist’s loving eye that he ran over his treasures. They served as a rosary of sorts, and Hook had taken to recounting Peter’s last moments to himself almost every day. For even Hook’s memory sometimes betrayed him as time raced on without bound. And, unlike the boy, Hook could only find real pleasure in his memories.

He reached into the box, pulling out longish, straight hair. It was lightening with age, and growing less silky, but Hook rubbed it between his fingers before letting it drop down again. Funny, how the smell of blood and sweat had dissipated over time. It smelt as much of the forest as the moment Pan had been caught.

Hook had meant to dispatch the boy himself in an appropriately gruesome and dramatic manner, but when the tiny frame was finally bound, he found he could not touch him. His men obliged. They had centuries of spite built up, and Peter would suffer for it all—the fatigue from searching aimlessly in the sweltering jungles, the tedium of living on a ship always at harbor, and the constant fear of Hook’s distemper.

Funny, how serene he had grown after being deprived of his nemesis. Sedated, almost.

It began with very light physical violence, and just this, coupled with some cruel words, took away the boy's power of flight. How incredibly easy it had been to infuse fear into him, now that he was secured to their earthbound level and justice! One of them had the idea to use Peter ignominiously before he was too mangled. They all took turns, slamming the boy against seemingly every bit of wall, mast, and railing available to them. Peter’s stoic silence broke down, and the shrieking only took pause when a particularly abrupt launch against the railing sent vomit shooting out. Hook watched all this from a distance, the benefit of the upper deck affording him a good view of the proceedings. The boy bled small droplets all over the deck as he was pushed to and fro, and they did so much damage that he finally soiled himself. Prematurely, Hook remembered with distaste. It was like dirty water spilling out.

Hook ran his hand over the twenty baby teeth-- all lacquered, all lined in a row attached to a board. How incongruous it seemed that these were the same that had gleamed at him from within Peter’s impish grin once. They were nothing more than a crocodilian jaw now, arranged in size from incisor to molar.

When the men grew tired of their fun, they grew violent. The first was a strong punch against the face. The cheekbone collapsed, Peter fell to hands and knees, drooling blood and teeth. Even from the upper deck, Hook could see tiny whites falling into the crimson puddle. They kicked him furiously, and he bawled, his entire body shaking with the pain. They had gathered in such a close group around him that Hook could hardly hope to distinguish anything. The crying stopped, the men parted. Someone must have broken the thin spine down near the waist. The boy began to slowly crawl away as soon as the blows ended, his lower half an inert encumbrance now, trailing behind him. It was amazing—the optimistic hope for survival at that hour, Hook mused. He sensed the end coming and descended down the stairs.

Hook took the small jar of alcohol and shook it up until the two preserved eyeballs inside more or less faced him. They had been much prettier, framed by the almond cut of Pan’s eyelids and the long lashes, but those could not be rescued intact. The alcohol had been distilled expressly for the purpose, in a long and painful process. But Hook had been hellbent in his task.

Those eyes had not left the level of the floor since the beating, but did stare at the newly arrived boots. The boy slightly changed direction to head towards them. Hook remained impassive, standing in the same place. A pirate with a sense of humor took his cutlass and severed off Peter’s lower half in the blink of an eye. Blood spilled onto the deck, but the boy hardly flinched, feeling nothing down there apparently, and still intent on reaching his destination. Hook watched in concealed amazement, hoping the boy would make it, but unwilling to come even a step closer. The men were quiet for only a moment, taking up the boy’s lower half and jeering about their plans for it.

Hook came to his favorite item, the pair of stuffed hands. He had been disappointed that the men had stepped on and crushed many of the thin bones in both of them, but the remedy turned out to be simple. There they lay, small and perfect, even the nails intact. It was hard to believe most of the bones had been replaced and that the flesh was nothing but sawdust. Smee had done good work.

The hands finally reached the boots, but the boy could not use them, injured as they were, to pull himself up. He had been crawling forward using his elbows. He was at last close enough to clasp his arms around the leg, rising up like a pillar before him. Hook looked down in disbelief at the trail of blood and innards that lay in the wake of the stump of his body. The head slumped forward, but Hook quickly turned him to face the sky. Still conscious eyes stared into Hook’s, finally despaired in the realization that these were indeed the final moments. Only blood colored the now-pale lips which moved, pronouncing nothing more coherent than a string of ‘mama,’ but when Hook leaned down, the hands flew up in a desperate last effort, touching the man’s rough cheeks before falling back, lifeless, to the deck.

The crew had already begun to rape the lower half—highly amused at seeing some of the more endowed of them come clean through. It was around dusk that Hook decided he had to preserve as much as possible of his fallen archenemy. He approached the task with a methodical air, stripping down the boy’s upper half to its most precious components. He had no interest in internal organs—only what had been visible and beautiful. There was hardly anything left of the lower half when Hook finally found it later in the evening-- rent into two and mangled beyond easy recognition by the boorish oafs. Smee helped tremendously in that search, miraculously recovering all the teeth that had been knocked out and scattered by the commotion.

Hook could not resist, and unscrewed the metal appendage. The small right hand had a metal fastening just below the wrist, and the man screwed it in. It was ridiculous, how unmatched it was compared to the other. It was useless in its immobility. But utility was hardly the objective. Hook took it up, gently caressing his own face with the smooth skin, running the slender fingers through his hair, over his lips, across the bit of chest exposed by his loose shirt, and shuddering in pleasure unknown to him while the boy had lived. The green irises were still fixed on him, as the globes slowly drifted past each other in the luminescent fluid.
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Adult-FanFiction.Org is not in any way associated with or related to FanFiction.Net

Adult-FanFiction.org (AFF, the site), its owners, agents, and any other entities related to Adult-FanFiction.org or the AFF forum take no responsibility for the works posted to the Adult-FanFiction.org by its members.

While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.

All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.

Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!

Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo

A Bunch of Hook/Pan Oneshots