Hook’s eyes remained fixed on the distant shores of Neverland, the islands he had come to loathe. It was a place where time stood still, where the rules of the world outside held no sway. For Peter Pan and the Lost Boys, it was paradise—an eternal playground where no one ever had to grow up, no one ever had to face the harsh reality of aging or responsibility.

But for Hook, Neverland had become a prison.

He had been trapped here for years, perhaps decades. It was impossible to tell anymore. Time didn’t flow properly in Neverland. Days blended into weeks, into months, into years, and all the while, Hook had been left to rot. He had tried, countless times, to escape—to sail away from this cursed place and return to the world he had once known. But every attempt had ended the same way. The island always pulled him back, like a cruel, mocking gravity that refused to let him go.

“I could have been something,” Hook muttered under his breath, his hand clenching the railing of the ship. “If it hadn’t been for this wretched place...”

There had been a time when Hook had ambitions, when he had dreamed of conquering the seas, of making a name for himself that would be spoken in hushed tones by every sailor who dared venture into dangerous waters. But Neverland had taken that from him. Here, he was nothing more than a villain in a child’s story, a shadow to be defeated time and time again by a boy who refused to grow up.

His teeth clenched as he thought of Peter’s laugh—that carefree, maddening laugh that echoed in his mind every time he failed to catch him. To Peter, it was all a game. A game of cat and mouse, where no one ever got hurt for long, and everything could reset by morning.

But Hook was tired of the game. He was tired of being the one who always lost.

His mind turned to the airship, his new plan to escape this never-ending loop. The airship represented something different. It was not a part of Neverland’s magic, not born from pixie dust or the whims of the islands. It was a machine—a product of the real world, a world that Hook longed to return to.

He had spent years studying technology, gathering what he could from the wrecks that washed up on the island’s shores. The mechanical arm that now replaced the hand Peter had taken was just one example of what Hook had built. Technology was predictable. It was controllable. Unlike Neverland’s magic, which twisted and changed with the moods of its childlike inhabitants, technology could be relied on.

With that airship, Hook believed he could finally break free of the island’s hold on him. He could escape, and once he was back in the real world, he would never have to see Peter Pan again. He would never have to hear that laugh or suffer the indignity of being defeated by a boy.

But there was something else gnawing at the back of Hook’s mind, something he tried to ignore. Even if he escaped Neverland, what would he return to? The world outside was a place that had moved on without him. He had been young once, a man of ambition and power. But now, he was old. And the world did not look kindly on old men who tried to hold on to the glories of their youth.

A part of him feared that if he did escape, he would find nothing waiting for him. No triumph, no empire, no fearsome reputation. Just a man who had outlived his time.

“No,” Hook growled, pushing the thought away. “That’s not who I am.”

He would make the world fear him again. He would take control of the airship, capture Peter, and return to the real world not as a relic, but as a conqueror. And if Peter somehow managed to escape his grasp once again, Hook would burn Neverland to the ground if he had to. He would destroy it, rather than let it keep him prisoner any longer.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The low rumble of his mechanical arm filled the silence around him as he flexed his fingers once more, testing the strength of the metal. His reliance on technology had grown stronger over the years, not just out of necessity, but as a rejection of the chaos that defined this island. He had given up on trying to understand Neverland’s magic long ago. Now, his only focus was on controlling it. And what better way to do that than by relying on the one thing Peter and his band of misfits could never grasp?

Hook’s lips curled into a sneer. “Let them have their games. Let them play at magic and adventure. I will have something far more powerful. I will have order. I will have control.”

Setting the Trap

The air around the Jolly Roger was thick with anticipation as Hook gave his final orders. The crew scattered, each pirate moving quickly to carry out the plan. Smee stood beside Hook, nervously adjusting his cap as he watched the activity on deck, though the tension in his face mirrored that of every pirate on board. There was always an edge of fear in the crew when it came to Peter Pan—a fear born of the countless battles they had lost against him.

But this time, Hook would not be outsmarted.

Hook’s eyes gleamed as he stared out across the sea, his gaze fixed on the distant stretch of land where Peter and the Lost Boys hid. He knew Peter’s patterns, his habits. The boy was nothing if not predictable in his recklessness. He would come, and he would fall into Hook’s trap.

“You’ve been patient, Captain,” Smee ventured, his voice low. “But are you sure Peter will come to the airship? He’s slippery, that one.”

Hook didn’t look at Smee, his eyes still scanning the horizon. “He’ll come,” Hook replied coldly. “He can’t resist a challenge. And once he hears that we have the airship—and Wendy—he’ll rush right into our hands.”

Smee swallowed nervously. “And the airship, Captain? What do we do with it once we have it?”

Hook’s lips twisted into a smile, dark and calculating. “We’ll use it to finally escape this cursed place, Smee. That airship is our key to freedom. And once we’re back in the real world, we’ll have no need for Neverland or its magic.”

The thought of escaping Neverland, of finally being free of this eternal prison, sent a surge of satisfaction through Hook’s veins. For years, the island had kept him here, forcing him to relive his failures over and over. But now, with the airship, he had the means to break that cycle. He had the means to leave Peter behind forever.

His crew would follow him. They always had. And once they were free of Neverland, Hook would rebuild his empire, returning to the seas as a conqueror, not a relic.

Smee fidgeted beside him, clearly unsettled. “And Peter, sir? What if he—”

“He won’t,” Hook interrupted, his voice sharp. “This time, we’ll be ready for him.”

Hook turned to face his crew, who had gathered once again on the deck, ready to receive their final orders. He surveyed them with cold, calculating eyes. They were a motley bunch, but they were loyal, if only out of fear. And fear would be enough for what came next.

“We’ve been bested by Peter Pan before,” Hook began, his voice low but full of command. “But this time, we control the skies. This time, we have something he cannot outrun. The airship will be ours by nightfall, and once it is, Peter will have no place left to hide.”

The pirates muttered in agreement, though Hook could see the flicker of doubt in some of their eyes. It didn’t matter. They didn’t need to believe in his plan. They just needed to follow orders.

Hook’s gaze swept the group before settling back on Smee. “You know what to do. We’ll lure Peter in, and when he comes—when he comes—we’ll take him and his precious Lost Boys once and for all.”

He turned back toward the distant horizon, his thoughts racing. His plan was in motion now, and soon Peter would walk right into his trap. Hook had learned from his past failures, had studied Peter’s every move, every mistake the boy had made. He knew Peter better than anyone, perhaps better than Peter knew himself.

Peter was reckless. He thought himself invincible. But Peter’s weakness, the thing that made him vulnerable, was his attachment to his friends. Hook would use that against him.

And Wendy... Hook’s smile deepened. Wendy was the key. She was the one Peter would come for. Hook knew it. He could see it in the way Peter looked at her, in the way the Lost Boys had rallied around her. Wendy was more than just a friend. She was something Peter would risk everything for.

“Ready the ship,” Hook commanded, his voice cold and certain. “Tonight, we take Peter Pan. And this time, we won’t leave him alive.”

The crew erupted in a cheer, though there was still that thread of uncertainty that lingered beneath the surface. Hook ignored it. His plan was perfect, and he would not fail. Not this time.

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the deck, Hook felt a sense of finality wash over him. The time for games was over. The time for revenge had come.

Peter would come. And when he did, Hook would be waiting.