Set in a post apocalyptic America is the story of one journalist reporting supernatural events and a supernatural bodyguard assigned to her by a mysterious higher order for reasons as mysterious the order.
"Come with me"
He stretched out his long fingered hand to me as a mischievous smile lit his elfish face and his black eyes shifted to a welcoming shade of navy. As he perched on the window ledge his pale skin reflected the sliver moonlight like a placid lake surface. He extended his hand to me through the broken window, where it hovered patiently like a large five legged spider; cunning, dangerous, but curiously inviting.
I grimaced as I climbed gingerly to my feet, glass shards clattered to the floor like tiny bits of moon dust. My injured leg throbbed madly as if it were writhed in flames and not just splintered with glass.
“Come where?” I managed to grip the corner of my blood splattered desk.
He laughed as if that was the funniest thing I could’ve asked.
“Neverland.” He offered his smile widening and tweaked with the slightest bit of mockery.
I scoffed as I looked him over, the worst thing about lunatics is, you can never tell when they are just crazy or lying to you. However, he did have the slightest resembles to Peter Pan; an older, more sinister, murderous Pan.
“I’m not stupid.” I said, limping away from him. I didn’t make much headway.
Where were the police? Didn’t anyone report gunshots anymore? I looked around for the phone.
"Are you scared?" he asked, drawing my attention back to him.
Fear is a weakness. I don't have weaknesses!
I gave him a confidant stare.
His smile widened.
"Then you're very stupid."