The Crocodile: A Neverland Story

By EgyptianGoddess

Chapter 1
In Neverland she was known simply as, The Croc, the beast that had consumed the hand of Captain Hook when tossed to her by Peter Pan. She had inhabited the warm waters of Neverland for centuries, neh millennia. A dangerous reptilian predator and a creature to be feared and respected. But deep in the recesses of her time fogged mind she remembered when she had been much more and had been feared not in this life but the one that follows mortal existence. In the hearts of all men was the fear that some day, when it came their time to journey through Duat, they would face her and be found lacking. Anubis weighed the hearts of the dead against the feather of Ma’at, and those found heavy with sin came her way. She was The Devourer, Eater of Hearts. She was Ammut. The bringer of the final death, the death of the soul.
But that was long ago in a world that no longer existed. The hearts of Men have forgotten the old ways and with them the old gods. Lost in the mist of time are the memories of the once great deities, Ra, Osiris, Isis, and Anubis. They are worshipped no more. The knowledge of Ammut and her once sacred duty lost from the minds of Men.
Now she was simply, The Croc. Neverland was as good a home as any. It was a place for forgetting and the River Nile remained nothing more than a faded memory.



The great reptile awoke from her slumber on the riverbed and with a languid sweep of her tail rose to the surface. A scaly nose and two yellow eyes were all she allowed to peak into the air. Something was different. Neverland seemed the same, schools of fish swam below her, birdsong emanated from everywhere, the sky bright and sunny above. And yet…something was missing. And then it came to her. The tick, tick, ticking of the clock in her tummy was gone. The sound that had dogged her everywhere had ceased, the mechanical device silent at last. As realization dawned on her, she smiled inwardly. Stealth was hers again. And she was hungry.


Still and silent as a log she waited. A widening of the river and slowing of its waters into a pool drew the thirsty. A deer approached the waters edge, glancing nervously about it. Cautiously it came closer, and took a few tentative steps into the still pool now only inches from the floating crocodile. Finally assured of its safety the deer lowered its head to drink. The water erupted in spray and foam as the crocodile launched herself at the hapless deer. Her toothy jaws snapping closed upon its head and neck. The deer fought back, lashing out with hooves but the vice-like grip remained unshaken. The crocodile threw all her weight into a full body twist that snapped the deer’s neck.
Her belly full and satisfied, the reptile hauled herself onto a warm rock. She rested contently under the sun’s rays, letting it warm her blood and speed the business of digestion. She slept and in the form of dreams, memories stirred. She floated in the wide river waters…Nile waters….and waited. The ways of patience were her ways and had been since time immemorial. She had stalked the shores just like this innumerable times. When dinosaurs roamed and thundered over the earth, she was there. When they faded from existence and the furry mammals propagated and overtook, she was there. When the first men-like creatures appeared she was there. She, a silent observer of the eons, watched as these strange creatures elevated themselves to a dominant position in the world faster than any species ever had. With their hands they reshaped this world and with their minds they molded and shaped the spiritual realm as well. Fueled by the influence of Men, these “other” realms coalesced and condensed, order was instituted, powerful animal spirits were recruited, deities arose. Feared in the mortal existence as a deadly predator, she was elevated in the spiritual realm to the eater of souls.
Her name floated up from the depths of memory…Neverland’s grip on her was loosening…her name was…her name was Ammut.
The crocodile awoke on her rock and she remembered. Her dream did not slip away as it always had before. She remembered.


The pirates heard the splash and the deer’s scream just before they all turned and saw the gruesome scene at the waters edge. They had watched with morbid fascination as the crocodile devoured her prey, and shuttered at the thought that they themselves had been about to enter those very waters that now ran red with blood.
“But what happened to the clock…the ticking…”sputtered Billy Jukes.
“I didn’t hear the ticking. Did anybody hear it?” questioned Mullins. No one had.
“Maybe it’s a different Croc,” postulated Starkey. Yes, yes they agreed, a different Croc. That had to be it.
“No,” said their Captain, who until this moment had not spoken. His face was grave. “I’d know her anywhere. She’s the same Croc. The clock in her belly has finally run down.”

Deciding to take his crew back to the ship as hastily as possible, Captain Hook had taken the lead position himself and began hacking a path through the jungle. Smee watched his Captain’s back as he furiously swung his sword at the underbrush with more force than the job required. Smee knew his Captain and though Hook would never show it to his crew, Smee knew that Hook was terrified.
Behind him, the sailor’s jabbered on, “So the ticking is gone for good?” “…no warning anymore…” “…she could be upon us before we knew what hit us…” “We’re sitting ducks!” “…and we all know who she’s going to be come’in for first…”
With that last comment, Smee spun around, “Enough,” he whispered forcefully, “the Captain don’t need to be hearing this!” They all hung their heads like chastised children at Smee’s admonition. But Hook trudged on seemingly unconcerned, focusing all his fear and anger into the swinging of his sword. His crew hurried to keep up.
 

Chapter 2

The Croc sat on her rock. With the return of memory came solemnity. The years loomed and the many occurrences of her life remembered with crystal clarity. Her body fell into a deep stupor, as her mind meditated on her existence. As old as the stones, she became like them, unmovable and detached. Night followed by day followed by night again and there she sat on her stone. Neverland life continued around her of which she remained only vaguely aware. The flying children of Neverland buzzed about her and visited her on several occasions. Their leader made a game of alighting on her back then darting away as if to dodge slashing jaws. But she did not flinch, nor budge. Bored the children let her be. “Her clock has run down and so has she,” postulated Pan, “The Croc has turned to stone.”

On and on she sat unmoving until one night she heard a haunting and beautiful sound. It undulated about her and entered her body, a beautiful music that beckoned her forward to action. Her muscles moved, she slid off her rock and slipped into the river. Drawn, she sought the music’s source and followed the river to the salty ocean waters and then to the cove in which the pirates’ ship lay anchored. There she found the source and sidled up to the hull where she could not only hear it but feel it through the boards. The music enchanted her, tugged at her, and made her want to cry at its beauty. When the masculine baritone voice sung out and joined with the harpsichord her heart nearly broke. The mournful notes struck a chord in her as they spoke for the strong , passionate singer.

She knew who the voice belonged to. She had tasted a piece of him once, a taste that had left her hungry for more. The music pulled at the hunger within her and changed it, transformed it. Desire filled her.

Late into the night the song continued. When finally the singer stopped and the notes rested, Ammut floated newly awakened. Passion aroused in her and it confused her. She needed counsel. She must return whence she came, she had to find her way back to Duat, the ancient Egyptian underworld. She must seek out the old gods whom she once served and seek their wisdom.


The grotto had always been a refuge for the Croc. Dark and damp and ignored by most of Neverland, she could meditate in solitude. It was the perfect location from which to embark on her journey. In the coolness, her heart rate slowed, her metabolism halted and she tottered on the edge of this life. Thus released her spirit bounded forward into abyss. A flitting fear passed over her. What if she could not remember the way, it had been so long? She hung uncertain in the dark abyss but a moment and then followed the dark tunnels with a certainty she knew the way.

Following them thus she reached the Chamber of Judgment and entered. Anubis and Thoth awaited her and it seemed time had not touched them here. “Welcome back little sister,” greeted the jackal-headed god Anubis. Always he had called her this for she was but a Demoness and not full-fledged Goddess. Thoth dipped his ibis head at her in welcome, his parchment and quill in hand. They stood beside the scales of judgment and she could not help but notice a thin layer of dust.

Following her gaze Anubis lamented, “Yes, the scales rest unused. Where once the souls flocked to meet their judgment, no more do they come. We have been forgotten little sister and we have no sinful hearts to feed you.”

“Yes, big brother, the minds of Men are fickle, they have forgotten us just as I have forgotten myself for so long. My memory has returned to me but I fear it is all for not for I see now that there is no place for me here now,” said Ammut.

“It is true, little sister. You’re services here are no longer needed, but being the embodiment of the powerful crocodile spirit and not a Goddess you may return to the mortal realm if you wish. We may not,” said Anubis.

“Where have you resided all these centuries, Ammut,” asked Thoth.

“On the Isle of Neverland I have made my home and for this I have made this journey. I have fallen in love with a mortal man but he fears me greatly as the crocodile. I bequeath you, lend me counsel dear brothers.”

“It is true you have forgotten much, do you not remember your human form? You used to often take this form upon yourself and move within the world of Men,” Thoth explained.

“Go back now,” said Anubis, patting her on the head, “your physical being grows cold without your spirit. Languish here no more.”

And thus she returned to Neverland.
 

Chapter 3
“Pick up the pace, you dog’s,” bellowed Captain Hook at his crew, “look lively there.” His crew kept busy at their chore, loading the longboats with supplies to take back to the Jolly Roger. Hook glanced nervously about. Days had turned into weeks and still none of the pirates had caught sight of the dreaded Croc. Hook had barely set foot outside of the sanctuary of his quarters for weeks but finally the trip to re-supply could be delayed no longer. Taking his crew ashore that morning, they spent the day gathering food and replenishing their water supply. The day had progressed without incident, with no sign of the murderous Croc nor troublesome Lost Boys.

Smee approached his Captain, “We’d be almost ready, sir.” Hook spared a nod for his bos’un. Lips pursed and body as tight as a bowstring, Hook kept his watch. So important to him was the well being of his Captain, Smee found it almost painful to watch the man suffer so.

“Beggin your pardon, sir, but maybe the crocodile has takin her leave of Neverland,” ventured Smee, “Nary a sighting have we made of her…”

“Yes, yes Smee…maybe so,” Hook answered distractedly never ceasing his scanning.

Suddenly a most hated sound met Hook’s ears. The crowing of Peter Pan reached them from the air just as Pan, followed by his gaggle of Lost Boys, burst forth from over the tree tops and descended upon the beach. Intent on perpetuating mischief they overturned several heavily laden longboats, dumping their contents into the sea. If seeing the toil of a hard day’s work destroyed in a matter of minutes was not enough to send Hook into a rage, the sound of Pan’s cocky laughter was. Sword drawn he hurled himself at the boys, joined shortly by his pirates. In the ensuing foray, the pirates only managed to exhaust themselves and they soon found themselves spread out all over the island.

Egging Hook further into the jungle, Pan swooped down again and again to exchange thrusts and parries with the pirate always keeping just out of reach. He exalted in taunting this man.

“Hold still boy so I can drive this steel through your heart,” raged Hook.

“Now, now Captain Codfish,” he waggled his finger at Hook as he floated above him. Hook slashed menacingly at the air. Pan only feigned a yawn, “You’re boring and this game is boring. I think I’ll leave now. Ta ta for now,” and with that Pan flew away leaving Hook alone with his rage.

Hook vented his frustration by slashing viscously at a bush. Chest heaving he sheathed his sword and tried to regain some modicum of composure. The way that boy pushed his buttons…

Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it he took stock of his situation. Hopelessly lost in the Neverland jungle now, he must have battled with Pan for an hour? Even longer? He’d definitely let the boy get the best of him and now he was in a pickle. Night was descending. He was exhausted and thirsty. His men were no where in sight. And, he thought to himself, don’t forget the man-eating crocodile.

The hot sticky air reminded him of his thirst. He’d seen plenty of strong men fall victim to heat stroke in such weather despite the waning sun. He couldn’t ignore the need for water.


Ammut had watched the squabble between the pirates and the flying children with interest from a hidden location. When she noticed Hook being drawn away into the jungle she stealthily followed. Finding him bent over a stream and judging the waters deep enough to conceal her, she entered the stream. Undulating forward under the water she approached Hook at the water’s edge. Like the deer he did not perceive her and she came to rest mere inches from him.
 

Chapter 4

From the stream, Hook drank his fill and as he stood to turn he caught out of the corner of his eye a flash and a ripple from the stream. He took a few steps back, then stood frozen in horror as his worst nightmare oozed from the still waters before him. The massive crocodile tilted her head to the side fixing one yellow eye upon him, and issued forth a low rumbling growl that he felt in his very bones. Run, he told himself, run right now or it’s the end of you. But he knew it was too late for that, she was too close and could snap him up in her jaws in and instant. So why didn’t she?

What happened next took him utterly by surprise, as the air around The Croc grew hazy and the view indistinct. When the air cleared before him stood not a crocodile but a woman. The figure looked like she had stepped forth from an Egyptian tomb wall. Translucent linen draped her bronzed body and a golden ankh hung between her bosom . An ornate golden necklace with many colored inlaid stones adorned her, and a similar head piece rested upon her black hair. She stood like a statue before him, as if carved of stone. Her face neither smiled nor frowned as two enormous shadowed eyes fixed their gaze upon him. The horrible inhumanness of those unblinking eyes, rimmed in black, made him shudder in fear.

“What cozening is this, foul demon thing,” he whispered drawing forth his sword, “away with you now,” he said shakily. The she-creature did not stir and continued to stare.

With an unnerving stillness, she spoke, “I am Ammut, the Devourer, and I have come at last for you dear Captain.”
“Not without a fight,” he yelled and lunged forward at her, blade raised above his head to strike. The next moment he found himself disarmed, his wrists held in her vice-like grip. Despite greatly out massing her she held him with preternatural strength and pressed him up against a tree. No amount of struggling and straining on his part could shake her.



Ammut held Hook against the tree. He struggled but she restrained him easily, his chest heaved as he strained in vain to free himself. His heart pounded and she found herself enchanted by the sound. She leaned into him closer to better feel its beating and to inhale his intoxicating male scent. She brought her face to his neck and inhaled again. Hook grew still in her arms but his heart still beat as fast as a sparrow’s. Her lips caressed his throat and hovered over the throbbing vein. She gave him a sharp little nip and he inhaled sharply. How tempting was the warm blood. She was confused by her strange mix of desire, need and hunger. Words came to her and she spoke them, “You are gorgeous.”

Hook began to tremble violently now and she had to hold him up to keep him from crumbling to the ground, “Please,” he whispered, “please…be you creature from hell or angel of vengeance, toy with me not. Give me this last dignity and kill me swiftly.”

“Oh, my dear sweet Captain. Think not, that of me,” she said as she fondled a silver curl, “I can see now that I have frightened you. I will leave you now.” She let her lips linger for a second longer at his neck then stepped back from him. The hazy, shimmering air returned and in the woman’s place stood the giant crocodile. The beast turned, slipping into the water and disappeared
 

Chapter 5

Hook slumped against the tree’s base and stared blankly as the creature departed. Death herself had held him in her very arms and realizing the futileness of resisting, he had abandoned himself to his fate. But death did not come and he was spared. Or was he? Where her lips had grazed his neck, the skin now burned with the memory of her touch. Despite his fear he had found himself responding. Perhaps she was not done playing with him and would be back to finish the job.

Ammut, she’d called herself. The Devourer. From his classically educated mind Hook recalled snippets of ancient Egyptian mythology. The Book of the Dead had made mention of Ammut. She had sat at the judgment of the soul and ate the hearts of the sinful. Was that his fate then? Was that the reason the Croc had pursued him so doggedly? To consume his immortal soul?

        Night had descended over Neverland. Hook shakily stood up and retrieved his sword. Even the starts were against him, he thought, looking up at the night sky. They changed at their own whim making them useless for navigation. He headed off in what he hoped was the right direction.

        It was nearly dawn when he found his way back to the cove. Smee was there waiting for him with a rowboat. Visibly relieved to see his Captain back safe, he stepped forward to greet him.

“Take me back to the ship,” were the only words Hook had for him.



Ammut watched Hook go. It was clear to her that the man was terrified of her. She had forgotten how dreadful she was even in her human form. She could take on the appearance of a woman but still there, just below the surface, was the dark otherworldness. Men could sense it and it chilled them.
The desire for him burned inside her. Hook was a shining black jewel which Ammut desired to hold but she would have to be patient. She would keep her desire at bay, and wait.



Chapter 6

        Captain Hook sat in his cabin, feeling at ease enough to read a little Shakespeare. In a week’s time no sighting had been made of the Croc and the crew had received no harassing visits from Pan. It had given him time to regain his equilibrium.

With the sudden breaking of the quiet morning by the hazing crow of Pan, Hook’s demeanor went from serene to enraged in an instant. He could already hear a disruption breaking out on deck. Sword in hand he stalked out of his cabin into the melee. As was typical, with the arrival of Pan and the Lost Boys, his ordered ship had quickly degenerated into chaos.

        “Good morning, Captain Codfish,” came Peter’s cocky greeting. He floated as usual just out of sword’s reach.

        “Boy! Your head on my sword would make this a fine morning indeed!” spat Hook.

        Pan only laughed and flew over his head to the forecastle above him. Hook followed after him up the stairs. Once on the forecastle deck Lost Boys descended upon him and while he busied himself exchanging parries, Pan set his trap in motion. Quick as a sparrow he encircled Hook’s legs in a length of chain until he had them quite entangled. Hook did not notice until Pan gave the chain a hard yank that sent Hook toppling to the deck. Lost boys laughed and cheered.

        “Ah, you devil’s whelp,” Hook cursed, “You’ve accomplished nothing but to make me all the madder,” but Hook swallowed his words as he saw what attached to the other end of the chain. A massive iron anchor sat balanced over the deck railing, held by the two twins. Peter gave the signal and they let the anchor tip over the edge pulling the chain after it. Hook soon followed, crashing through the railing and dropping into the sea below.


        The impact of hitting the surface, knocked the air from Hook as the anchor plummeted into the sea’s depths. Unable to cut through the chain he frantically tried to untangle his legs. The wasted motion only sped his body’s need for oxygen, and with his lungs burning for air he involuntary sucked in the seawater. Soon he lacked the energy to thrash any longer and continued speeding downward. In the fleeting moments before darkness overtook him, his peripheral vision fading, he saw a crocodilian shadow streak by him. “The Devourer comes to claim me,” he thought as oblivion overcame him.


Hiding but ever watchful, Ammut observed the Lost Boys’ attack on the Jolly Roger. She saw Hook cast overboard and plunge into the sea. As he sunk into the dark depths, she flicked her mighty tail and surged after him. Straining every muscle fiber to its limit she sped past him, and turned in the murky depths to see the chain pulling him down. Bringing the full force of her powerful jaws to bear, she crushed the chain, snapping it in two. Then, careful so as not to damage him, she scooped up Hook’s still body in her mouth and returned with him to the surface.

She carried him quickly to shore and upon reaching it, dropped his lifeless form from her jaws. Afraid that it may already be too late for him she took on her human form and bent over him. Not a breath passed his blue lips but the heart beat on. Pressing on his chest, she pushed the water from his lungs and replaced it with her own breath. Over and over she repeated this until Hook sputtered and gasped and drew breath for himself.

A shadow passed overhead, “How did you get him away from the Croc,” asked the annoyed boy flying above her, “We saw him in her jaws.” They were out of sight of the pirate ship but the flying children had found them.

Ammut stood protectively over Hook and hissed at the children. Taken a little aback by the mysterious woman the other Lost Boys kept their distance.

“Who are you?” asked Pan.

“The Devourer of Sinful Souls,” she answered coolly.

“Oh, well I guess you’ll be eating Hook’s heart then won’t ya,” smiled Pan.

Ammut’s only answer was a low crocodilian growl. Pan frowned.

After a few tense wordless moments Pan started to speak again, hesitated then said, “Oh, this isn’t fun anymore,” wrinkling his nose. “The game’s been spoiled, come on Lost Boys.” And off they flew, throwing wary glances over their shoulders at Ammut.

After she was sure the flying children had left, Ammut turned her attention back to Hook. Though still not conscious, his color had returned, the deathly blue hue now gone as he breathed normally. She didn’t want him to see her when he awoke, concerned her presence would be too disturbing for him. Would his crew even be looking for him? She could not just leave his unconscious form unprotected on the beach.
She sat back on her haunches and watched him breath. He was a very large and well-built man and he exuded strength even as he lay prone before her. His face, with its chiseled jaw and full lips, appeared serene and untroubled now with none of the fear she had seen there before. He appeared so vulnerable with his face upturned and his strong neck exposed, the elegant lacy ruff cascading down his chest. She ran her hand through his hair, down his neck, and let it come to rest over his heart, which beat strongly beneath her touch. It stirred her desire. Desire for the heart, the blood, and the man. The irreconcilable longings battled within her.


Finally stirring, Hook slowly opened his eyes and looked into the face of the bronze-skinned woman with the dark penetrating eyes. She sat bent over him, hand on his chest. To his blurred vision she appeared almost sad. With out a word, she stood and walked away from him into the trees.


Ammut watched from the jungle as Hook slowly rose to his feet, unsteady at first but quickly seeming to regain his composure. She did not let him out of her site until he had signaled his ship and a longboat collected him safely.
 

Chapter 7
Hook was grateful when evening arrived and he could retire in peace to his cabin. Smee nearly suffocated him with his hovering and concern since the longboat had brought him back. After seeing Hook in The Croc’s clutches, Smee and the rest of the pirates had assumed him a goner for sure.

“Begorra, Captain!” Smee had exclaimed upon seeing him, “there’s not a mark on ya. Are ya sure’s ya alright and everything?”

“Yes, Smee, fit as a fiddle,” but he betrayed himself when he winced as he boarded the longboat and clutched his side.
“A cracked rib, maybe, or at least bruised to be sure, Captain.” Smee had observed.

“I’ll be fine,” said Hook, his glare telling Smee to drop the issue.



As he sat at his desk that evening, quill in hand and poised over his journal, he struggled over what to write. In some ways he felt as if he was losing his mind. He struggled to remember his last moments of consciousness as he had sunk beneath the sea’s surface. He knew he’d seen The Croc and had resigned himself to death. But death hadn’t come. Then he had seen the woman who called herself Ammut. Who was she? It was clear she was connected closely with The Croc. That she even was The Croc somehow. Once again he’d found himself helpless before her and once again she’d spared him.

He was overpowered by her presence and strangely drawn to her. Those piercing black eyes, and the way she touched him. Yet she filled him with a strange dread as well.
Hook put down the quill and walked over to the window. He opened it and leaned out into the night air. A song came to him, a sad little sea dirge about the hard lonely life of men at sea, and he sang out softly under his breath.



Ammut floated near the Jolly Roger’s hull like she had done for so many nights now. Waiting. Patience. These she had in good measure. The sound of the waves lapping against the ship, the rustle of men that moved about in its bowels… these sounds of life from within lulled her. She was aware when the Captain’s window opened and then sighed in rhapsody as his baritone voice began to quietly sing out.

Patience dissolved, to be replaced by passion as the dark melancholy voice drew her forward. When the song ended and the voice ceased it was like a physical pain, it left a hole that needed to be filled. She had to see him, touch him. Taking on her womanly form, she scaled the hull and entered through the still open window.
 

****WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED NC-17.****
It contains explicit sexual description. If you don’t like reading that sort of thing, then don’t. This chapter’s not for you. You have been warned!
Chapter 8

Hook stood across the room and whirled about to face the intruder as Ammut descended from the window. The translucent linen that draped her body billowed about her with the breeze coming from the window. An otherworldly glow from the moonlight outside surrounded her. Her eyes held him as they burned through him. In them he saw hunger. Desire. A predatory glint. He shrunk back from them as she strode dangerously toward him.

Hook took a step back from Ammut but she advanced quickly upon him and caught him up in her arms. She pinned him against the wall and he struggled against her. As she thrust her mouth upon his neck and nipped at his flesh his body betrayed him and his flailing ceased. With the touch of her lips he felt as if he had been clipped at every joint. He crumpled to the floor, and she followed on top of him.
He shuddered at the touch of her lips on his neck. Her mouth still at his throat she ripped open his shirt and ran her hands over his chest, exploring his flesh and digging her nails into it. As her hands roamed he felt his body responding despite himself. He tossed back his head and ragged breaths escaped him as her mouth moved to his chest and covered a nipple. “What are you doing to me,” he breathed as he arched into her touch.

In answer, she untied his pants and released the growing bulge within them. As her fingers encircled him he gasped and bucked his hips against her. He jerked and moaned as she grazed her nails along his length, his breath catching when she pinched the sensitive tip, “What do you want from me,” he cried out.

“All of you,” she answered as she guided herself down upon him. His head exploded in ecstasy as she enveloped him and he clutched at her hips as his whole body shuddered.


Ammut collapsed upon his heaving chest and buried her face in his neck. Still she needed something more from him. His heart pounded against her breast, bringing her awareness of his coursing blood. The heady blood smell overwhelmed her and she bit sharply into his neck over the large vein. He tensed in alarm but she soothed him with her words, “Fear me not, I won’t harm you.”

He relaxed into her arms again and she took a long draw from the bleeding vein. He groaned in ecstasy as he arched his neck against her lips, “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, but she withdrew, her desire slacked, “No,” he whimpered.

“Yes, my love. No more will I take.”
 

Chapter 9

Ammut stood up and backed away from Hook. He started to rise too but fell back wincing onto the wood floor. He clutched at his side.

“You’re hurting,” she exclaimed, going down on her knees next to him.

“I’m all right, just a bruised rib,” he said through clenched teeth. Ammut knew it was her fault, remembering when she had pushed the sea water out of his lungs. She didn’t always know her own strength. Now he was breathing a little raggedly. Shame came over her at the thought that she had taken advantage of him when he was in a weakened state. And she had taken his blood too. I little trickle still ran down his neck. She held her hand over the precise little wound then ripped a piece of her linen wrap to press against it. He started to shiver and she became suddenly aware how cold the floor was.

Scooping him up in her arms, she carried his unresisting body to the bed. By the time she finished removing his clothes and boots, and tucked him beneath the heavy coverlet, sleep had overcome him. He still shivered though, and sweat had broken out on his brow and he felt warm to her touch. A fever.

So absorbed she did not hear the cabin doors open. “Stand back from him, ya banshee, or I’ll let Johnny Corkscrew at ye.” She turned to see a short, scrawny, bearded man brandishing a sword at her. Smee, she thought he was called. He was clearly terrified of her but still he faced her like a tiger.

“I mean him no harm, but he is ill,” She said to him. Smee never lowered his sword, but glanced anxiously over at his Captain, “He needs to be taken care of, and I know not how to do it. Are you his loyal man?”

“Loyal to me very grave,” he said proudly.

“You can look after him then…?”

“Ay, that I can.”

“Then to your able hands I leave him,” she said. Smee never took his eyes off her as she disappeared through the window.
 

Chapter 10

Hook thrashed deliriously in his bed all that night, caught in the throes of the terrible fever that racked his body. Smee never left his side as he placed cool clothes over his brow and tried to keep him from hurting himself. He shouted out many indecipherable mumblings and rantings in his delirium. He spoke of The Devourer and the Eater of Hearts. “She comes for me, she comes for me!” he shouted out many times. He cried out often and struggled as if in the grips of a terrible monster. Once, to Smee’s surprise, he shot bolt upright in bed, his eyes ablaze with terror and looked straight at him, “Don’t let her take me, Smee!” he pleaded, then collapsed back to his pillow and returned to fitful sleep.

Smee tended the wound on his neck. It looked like an animal had attacked him, and an ugly bruise spread from the gash.
That banshee was to blame for this he knew.

By dawn, Hook had fallen into a quiet sleep, too exhausted to thrash any longer. He breathed laboriously, a bluish tint to his lips. Smee knew that Hook had pneumonia from the all the sea water he’d inhaled. That, and the cracked ribs, was making it difficult for Hook to draw breath. The fever had broken, but in Smee’s experience that didn’t always bode well. It could mean he was getting better or simply his body was too exhausted to fight any longer and death would soon follow.

The crew hovered on deck anxious for any word about their Captain. They strained to see within his cabin each time the door was opened to allow supplies to be brought in or food sent up from Cookson’s galley. But Smee guarded the entrance like a mother hen and would let none enter. He told them only that Hook had pneumonia and said nothing about the mysterious woman or the circumspect bite wound.



Ammut waited in the waters near the ship all through the day. She listened and watched for any sign that Hook was recovering. She longed for any sign, a sight of him on the deck or the sound of his voice issuing commands to his crew. None of these came though and by night fall she could stay away no longer.

As the woman, she crawled in through the window. Smee sat in a chair beside Hook’s bed. His bearded head hung forward on his chest as he slept. Ammut stole quietly to the beds other side. Hook was in an unwaking sleep and the quality of his breathing distressed Ammut. She placed a hand on his chest and felt the rales that issued from his ravaged lungs.
Smee shook awake in his chair and clambered to his feet, sword in hand, “Get ye filthy claws off of him,” he spat at her, “he’s dying, why don’t ye just leave ‘em be!”

“Dying?” she said, “No, I won’t allow it,” she declared shaking her head, “I’ll find a way. Watch over him faithful Smee for I’ll be back for him,” and after one last longing look at Hook she alighted through the window.

The thought of the woman returning filled Smee with dread but he also clung to hope. If it was true she could find a way to heal his Captain, he would be indebted. He looked at the man’s still form. Hook didn’t have much time left.
 

Chapter 11

Ammut made her way to the secluded grotto, her jump off spot for trips into the spirit realm. She allowed herself to grow cold and still and then fall into the living state of death necessary to launch her spirit forward. She whipped her incorporeal crocodilian self recklessly through the tunnels of darkness until she reached the hall of her brothers.

Before them she supplicated herself, “I beseech you brothers to help me. The mortal man I told you of before, the one whom I love, lays dying now.”

Anubis looked pained at her distress, “Ammut, would that we could help you, but if this mortal man’s time of passing is upon him than there is not we can do to prevent it. Fate and destiny can not be denied. You know this, little sister.”
“But it is not his time. The course of his natural life I have interrupted. It is because of me he is dying. I took his blood…
“No Ammut,” interrupted Thoth, “You are not at fault, his failing lungs are what kill him now. It is true you were never meant to intercede in his life, not in the way that you did. But you did have a role to play. He was meant to die that day in the sea and fall to you The Crocodile of Neverland. But as Ammut, you saved him instead. Destiny, however, can not be subverted. He will die. It is written,” and he showed her the papyrus with his neatly scrawled glyphs upon it declaring the fact.

Her hope crushed, Ammut looked dejectedly away from the offensive writing. The jackal-headed god looked into Ammut’s forlorn eyes and his heart twist, for he had long loved her. He wanted to help her, “Wait, little sister. It is true that the man is meant to die. Eventually he must, as all mortals do. But perhaps we may intercede.”

“We may not,” said Thoth coolly, “Neither of us can do that. You cruelly offer her false hope.”

“We can’t intervene,” said Anubis, “but there is someone else who perhaps can. Come with me Ammut, we will ascend to the temple of the sun and present your case before Sekhmet herself.”

Thoth watched their backs as they left and shook is ibis head in pity. He rolled up the papyrus scroll and set it upon his neatly arranged pile, each scroll the written record of a mortal’s life.



Without Anubis to guide her, she would never have been able to navigate through the golden tunnels of light. With Anubis leading they entered through the gates and stood within the courtyard of the Temple of the Sun. They stood in the lush garden of Sekhmet and about them bloomed the sacred plants of the Egyptian Nile: papyrus plants, date and fig trees, grapes, and beautiful lotus plants. Aromatic perfumes floated about on the warm breezes. Many medicinal and culinary herbs grew as well, and their scents, some sweet and others acrid, met her nose.

Anubis called out, “Oh, Powerful One, Sun Goddess, and Destructor, heed my call. Sekhmet, Goddess of Dread who gives Life Eternally, I call upon you. Sekhmet, Goddess of Medicine and Surgery, I call upon you.”

For a few moments their was no answer but then from the temple entrance emerged the lion-headed goddess. She descened the steps to the garden and stood before them. A goddess of the sun and of life, she was magnificent to look upon. To Anubis she spoke, “Anubis, God of Embalming and Guide and Friend of the Dead, I head your call and welcome you to my temple.”

“On behalf of Ammut, Eater of Hearts, I beseach you for help.”
“If it is within my power Anubis, I will certainly consider any request you make,” said Sekhmet, “but be aware, my sphere of influence has shrunken considerably. My shrines upon the earth lay crubled and forgotten. No longer do Men follow the ways of Ma’at or worship at the altars of the Sun God, Ra. This tiny sanctuary is all that remains of my once glorious days.”

“The story is the same for Duat, no longer do Men’s souls seek the scales of judgement.”

“What is it you’d have me do,” asked Sekhmet.

“Provide Ammut with the means to save the life of her mortal lover.”

“Yes, this is a simple thing to do. It is his destiny to die, but that can be delayed for a time. Not indefinatly mind you but for a suitabley long mortal life. This I can do for one who has served Ma’at so faithfully.”

Sekhmet retreived from her garden fountain a startingly blue lotus blossom. When she proffered this to Ammut it had taken on the form of a toppered blue stone vial. She hung this on a gold chain about Ammut’s neck, “This contains the lotus blossom essence and will cure your lover. It must be steeped and drank. The vial contains only enough for one dose.”

“Thank you, Goddess.”

“Your welcome. Take her back now Anubis. She has little time left.”
 

Chapter 12

When Ammut awoke from her stupor in the grotto, she found the vial still on it’s chain about her neck. Trying to shrug off the death-like trance, she willed her cold body to move. Slow to respond, she managed to drag herself into the cool waters of the grotto. She needed to warm up, but didn’t have time for a good sun basking. Hurry, she thought. She urged her muscles to respond and as she moved she warmed and was soon slicing through the water at top speed. When she reached the ship it was early dawn. She entered through the window.

Smee had been watching for her and stood protectively between her and the bed with the Captain’s prone form.
“Does he still draw breath,” she asked him, fearful of the answer.

“Aye, barely.”

Removing the flask on it’s chain from her neck she handed this to Smee, “Within this vial is the means by which we may save the Captain. It must be prepared by steeping and he must receive it all. I’ll watch over him” Smee took it reverently, but hesitated to leave his Captain alone with the she-demon.
“I won’t harm him,” she said but Smee was not convinced and stared at her suspiciously, “Your loyalty is admirable, but you’re wasting precious time. Now go!”

Smee reluctantly complied. While he prepared the medicine she sat down on the bed next to Hook and took his cold hand in hers. He looked like death, his face ashen with dark circles under his eyes. His breathing was shallow and ineffective.
When Smee returned with Sekhmet’s preparation in a mug she took it from him. Supporting Hook with her arms into a sitting position, she poured the liquid slowly down his throat, making sure not a drop was wasted. She set down the empty mug but kept him in her arms. Smee stood by, waiting hopefully.
How long it would take for the medicine to take effect she did not know, but she thought it already seemed his breathing came easier. Color began to return to his face as well. His eyes fluttered open and he focused them on her. Through dry lips, he croaked, “Have I died?”

“Not yet James. Someday you will but not today,” she answered. She helped him to drink a cup of water handed to her by Smee.

After he drank he spoke again, “How long have I been sick.”
“Two nights and a day,” answered Smee.
“What!” he said. He started to get agitated, “What about the ship, my crew…”

She pulled him back down, “Don’t concern yourself with it right now. Everything’s fine. Calm down. Rest now,” she soothed, combing his hair with her fingers and caressing his face. He responded, settling back into her arms and soon had fallen back asleep. A restful sleep, unmarred by fever or nightmares.

“Is he alright,” asked Smee.

“He will be now. He just needs to sleep,” she looked at the small bespeckled man before her. He looked exhausted as well from his long vigil at his Captain’s side. She felt a little respect for him. “You have done well by your Captain, but you can rest now. I will look after him now and make sure no harm comes to him.”

But Smee balked. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his Captain alone with the she-demon. He remembered the Captain’s nightmares and distress while he’d been feverish.

Ammut felt herself grow angry at his reluctance. She wanted to command him with the power of a goddess’s voice but she tempered herself, “I mean your Captain no harm, I want to help him.”

“Well, you did bring the potion…,” he said still looking suspiciously at her.

“Leave now, it’ll be alright.”

The doubt did not leave his eyes but he nodded. He left the room, locking the cabin doors behind him.
 

NC-17 WARNING; Yup, more bodice-ripping, blood lusting activities described in detail. Read at your own peril.


Chapter 13

Ammut held the sleeping Hook in her arms, his head resting on her breast. With every breath he took she could sense his vitality returning to him. As she held him, her own wearyness overcame her. The long harrowing trip through the spiritial realm had left her physical form drained and she had been unable to recover properly by basking in the sun’s warmth. Adjusting Hook’s head back down on his pillow, she slipped under the covers next to him. Laying her head on his chest and snuggling up to his body, she let his body heat warm her. Lulled by his steady breathing and beating heart she fell asleep.



As Hook awoke, one of the first things he became aware of was the weight of something on his chest. Looking down he saw a woman resting there, her face obscured by a cascade of black silken hair that spread out from her head across his chest. It was the woman, Ammut. In all his past encounters, her imposing figure had overwhelmed him, menaced him. But now, as she slept draped across him, she seemed almost vulnerable.

He raised his hooked arm and combed a tendril of her black hair with the tip, exposing her neck. It would be so easy to slice into her with it and kill her while she slept. He could be rid of the dreaded Croc and end the threat to his life that she represented. Yet, as Ammut, she had not tried to kill him. She had in fact rescued him from the murky depths of the sea. He knew also she was somehow responsible for his unexplained recovery from an illness that should have lead to his demise. He had felt himself dying, knew it was coming, yet now none of that remained.

And then another thought came to him. Could she even be killed? Could steel alone stop her, a diety? He traced his claw gently along her jaw. She stirred at the touch, languidly stretching her body against him and sighing heavily. He fought to control the arousal he felt as her body rubbed against his. She turned her face towards him and opened her dark shadowed eyes, “You’re awake,” she said.

“So are you,” he returned.

“Are you well now?”

“Yes, I feel…well. How is it possible?”

“Sekhmet’s medicine cured you,” she answered.

“I don’t understand.”

“I journeyed through Duat and from there to the Temple of the Sun. Anubis helped me. Sehkmet gave me the blue lotus blossom essence.”

“But why did you do it, why did you save me, when always you have so doggedly sought my demise?”

“It is written, James Hook, that you shall meet your destiny in the jaws of the crocodile. This thing I cannot deny,” she said, a cool chill passing through Hook as her dark eyes held him. Her hand moved up his thigh and he grunted as her fingers wrapped around him, “But right here, right now, you are alive. And I want you.”

I should kill her, at least try to, he thought fleetingly, but it was too late, his body was already surrendering to her touch. He cursed his weakness as he arched into the exquisite friction her body created as she writhed against him. She covered his mouth with her own and kissed him hard, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. Her roaming hands caressed him, kneaded him, and made him gasp in pleasure. He kissed her hungrily back and tried to keep her lips as she pulled back from him. She pushed him back into the mattress with her hands on his chest and straddled him. She ground her hips against him making him whimper with need. He was so hard now it was almost painful. Finally, she enveloped him and as he thrust upward into her, his hips shuddered and he achieved release.

Ammut claimed his mouth in a rough kiss, then set upon his neck, nuzzling and kissing it, “I want you,” she breathed.
He remembered the last time, the rapture he’d felt. “Take it,” he said arching his neck into her kisses, “I want you to…I need you too...”he felt the sharp pain as her teeth bit into him and then the pull on his heart as she drew the blood from him. The roaring in his ears and the beating of his heart was all that remained and ecstasy flooded over him. He felt eternity before him but then the sensation withdrew and he was once again in Ammut’s arms, “Don’t stop,” he begged.

“No, that’s enough,” she said gently, “Just a taste.”
 

Chapter 14

Hook lay propped up against his pillows in a half dreamlike state. The feel of Ammut’s weight on him had left, but just when he was about to become distraught over its absence, her touch returned. He yielded to her hands as she gently bandaged his neck. He drank the cool water she offered him. His head began to clear a bit and he sat up in bed. Glancing about the room he saw Ammut standing by his desk examining his collection of various navigation instruments. Tools he had not made use of since setting anchor in Neverland. She seemed utterly engrossed.

Wanting to get out of the bed he had laid in for so many days now he started to throw off the covers when he became aware of his lack of clothing. Self conscious, he shrugged on a shirt and pants. Ammut spared him an unconcerned glance and went to stand by the window, holding one of the instruments. He would have liked to get cleaned up. Have a bath and a shave. He needed to make an appearance on deck soon too. The crew needed to see him, and be reminded who was in charge, lest they forget. He was concerned about what state he might find his ship in after his long absence.

“What is this called,” Ammut asked, interrupting his thoughts. She held up one of the more complicated instruments. Her bronzed body outlined by the sun shining through the window.
“It’s called a sextant. It can be used to measure the angle between the horizon and the sun or other celestial body,” he explained, “From that, a ships latitude and longitude can be deduced.”

“How wonderful,” she said, her eyes gleaming, “What a marvel of human ingenuity it is. Miraculous is the power of the hand and mind of Men.”

“It is a fine instrument,” Hook said proudly, “The finest of English workmanship.”

“I would very much like to learn how to use it,” she said examining it closely.

“I’m afraid it’s not much use in Neverland,” he said sighing.



A knock at the door interrupted their conversation, “Yes what is it,” Hook shouted out.

“Beggin your pardon, sir,” came Smee’s voice from the other side, “It be your Bo’sun…”

“Yes, yes, come in then,” said Hook irritably as he unlocked the door.

Smee entered and looked around nervously. He was happy to see that the she-demon was across the room over by the window and nowhere near his Captain. He shuddered inwardly as she regarded him with her dark eyes, their gaze eliciting a cool chill.

“I jest be checking on ye Captain. To be sure ye’s all right, and seeing if ye need anything.”

“I’m quite all right, Smee,” said Hook. And to Smee’s eyes he did appear much improved. Perhaps the she-demon was telling the truth and only wanted to help Hook. His eyes narrowed though when he spotted Hook’s newly bandaged neck, a small amount of blood striking through. He could not help the accusatory look he shot at the woman.

She merely continued to gaze at him solemnly, “Loyal Smee, your Captain is well again. But he is hungry from his long illness and needs food. Would you be a good man and bring him something.”

Smee hesitated and looked to his Captain. The man nodded to him, “It’s alright, Smee. I could do with a meal.”

“Aye, Captain,” he said, “I’ll be back with something in a jiffy.” He allowed himself one more wary glance at the woman then departed.

“He would do anything to keep you from harm,” observed Ammut, “and he believes that harm is what I intend for you.”
“Is his fear not well founded?” whispered Hook.

Ammut set down the sextant on Hook’s desk. Just a moment ago they had been talking and he had let his guard down and looked at her with something other than suspicion. But now, she could see the fear and distrust returning to his face. She knew that her desire confused her. In addition to her physical passion for him she needed more from him. When she took his blood, felt his heart beating and his life pouring into her, she felt closer to the truth. She knew Hook felt it too. The inescapable pull of destiny drew him to her. She didn’t want to think about what destiny had in store for him. She didn’t want to think about the part she would play in it. For now she was just satisfied to be content with the now, “All I can say is that I don’t ever wish to hurt you.”
Before Hook could speak, an alarm cried out on deck, “Blasted Pan,” he growled, anger replacing all prior emotions. Ammut watched as he snatched up his sword and dashed out of the cabin onto the deck.
 

Chapter 15

From the open door Ammut could hear pirates shouting and boys yelling and cheering. When she stepped out on deck no one took any notice of her. The crew was busy fending off razing flying boys. In the center of the deck Hook was fighting with the leader of the flying pack, Peter Pan. Hook was bigger and stronger, but the boy avoided his blows with agility and cleverness. Ammut watched as Pan’s antics whipped Hook into a mindless frenzy that made it possible for him dive in and deliver a stinging stab with his dagger to Hook’s thigh. Hook dropped to one knee and let fall his sword in surprise. Pan quickly retrieved the fallen sword and leveled the tip at Hook’s throat.

Pan crowed in glee that he had the upper advantage. It was all a game to him, “I’m a better swordsman that you. Admit it Hook.” A hateful glare from Hook was his only answer. The pirates and the lost boys had stopped fighting as all attention was focused on the tense scene before them. A few lost boys cheered Peter and laughed at Hook. Peter took it all in jovially and then noticed Ammut standing in the cabin doorway.

“I remember you,” he said happily, “From the beach. You said you wanted to devour sinful hearts. Well, here ya go,” he said jabbing the sword into Hook’s neck, not breaking the skin but making him grit his teeth, “You can have Codfish here, everyone knows that he has the darkest heart in all of Neverland.” Pan said and laughed at his own joke. The others did not laugh though. They now watched warily as the woman stood like stone, her hard eyes boring into Peter.

Anger welled up in Ammut at the sight of the cocky boy pressing the blade to Hook’s throat. Dark menace in her voice, she said slowly, “Let. Him. Go.”

Pan, oblivious to the danger, didn’t comply. He didn’t even have time for a shocked look before the woman unexpectedly attacked him. Ammut strode across the deck, and viscously back handed him, sending him flying. He landed with a thud on the deck. In an instant she was the crocodile and upon him, pinning him to the deck with a heavy scaled foot. Her claws digging into Peter’s chest, she twisted her head to the side to level a yellow eye at him. Peter starred up dumbly and in shock.



Everyone took a step back as the gigantic crocodile suddenly filled the deck, her massive swishing tail sending a few pirates and lost boys hurtling across the ship. “The Croc’s on board. Flee, flee for our lives,” shouted a pirate, and without a second thought to the welfare of their Captain, they quickly lowered the longboats into the water and made for shore. The Lost Boys would never so wantonly desert their leader and hovered overhead, unsure what to do to help Peter.


Ammut peered at her squirming prey and the urge to rip the boy to pieces overwhelmed her. Then she saw Hook. He lay across the deck on his side watching the scene before him and the pure horror on his face squelched the burning fire in Ammut’s heart. He lay utterly paralyzed by the abject terror and dread he felt in the Croc’s presence. As much as she wanted to destroy the hateful boy, she was reluctant to reaffirm Hook’s fear of her as a vehicle of death. She released Peter and stepped back from him. He sat up just an instant later, then sped upward to join his friends. Ammut watched has they flew off towards the island.

She turned to Hook then and as she came toward him, he frantically back peddled, dragging himself away from her. Concern tore through her at the sight of the trail of blood that he smeared after him from the knife wound to his leg. She returned to her human form, but Hook continued to retreat from her until his back met the ship’s railing. His breath came in ragged fearful gasps as she approached and he clenched his eyes shut as she bent over him and touched his face, “Don’t fear me, the beast is gone,” she soothed caressing his face, “I never want to harm you.”

As she embraced him and stroked his hair, Hook began to settle and his breathing returned to normal. He began to melt into her touches, leaning forward into her breast and wrapping his own arms around her.

“I wish I could take you away,” she whispered in his ear.

“Over me dead body,” Said Smee.
 

NC-17 WARNING: Yup. For sex again. Lots of it.

Chapter 16

Smee menaced his sword at the woman. He alone of the pirates had remained onboard. He would never abandon his Captain not if hell itself opened underfoot and threatened to swallow him up, “Unhand the Captain you monster. I’ll not let you take him.”

“Oh, but you will, Smee. You are in fact going to take us ashore yourself,” she said coolly.

Smee sputtered, “I’ll do no such thing…”

“Yes you will. He’s coming with me if I have to jump into the ocean with him,” and she stood up, Hook cradled in her arms, to make her intention understood.

“No, don’t do that,” he said worried by the sight of his Captain hanging limply in the woman’s arms. Blood oozed from the wound on his leg, “I’ll take you ashore.”



Smee rowed the couple to the beach. “Don’t try to follow us,” she warned. “Go back to the ship. And rest easy Smee. No harm can come to your Captain while he’s with me.”
He wanted to believe her but found that he didn’t. Smee knew that as long as this woman was in his life, Hook’s life was in peril. But she held the Captain tightly to her so Smee did as she ordered. He watched anxiously as she carried Hook in her arms as if he weighed nothing and walked into the woods with him.


Ammut walked on amongst the trees, effortlessly carrying Hook. She sought for and found her favorite sunning spot in a secluded grove. In it, large flat rocks surrounded a warm water spring that emptied into deep clear pools. She laid Hook down on a moss covered rock and removed his clothes to examine the knife wound in his thigh. The bleeding seemed to have stopped for now. After removing her own linen robes, she eased him into one of the steaming pools, sliding in next to him. The warm waters enveloped them.


Hook responded to the warmth and the sensation of floating as Ammut held him in the water. He felt himself being pulled back into awareness. Her body was close but he wanted it closer. He didn’t fight his need. Reaching out he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in. His hand slid up her back until it cradled her head and his fingers tangled in her black hair. He drew her down for a kiss. His tongue probed her mouth and she responded in kind, kissing him passionately, her tongue dueling with his. He felt her legs wrap tightly around his waist and he grew hard at the wonderful friction there. His groan was muffled as she deepened their kiss. Starting to sink below the water’s surface, he caught their bodies and interrupted the contact of their lips to swim with her over to the rock edge. Pulling her with him he lowered her onto a mossy rock and looked at her glistening wet body. She pulled him to her and wrapped her legs about him again.

They kissed as if they could devour one another, tugging and biting at each others lips. Hands roamed freely, exploring and caressing. He grew even harder and grunted when her hand found him and guided him into her. Propping himself up on his forearms, he began a slow rhythmic thrusting. Looking up he saw her, her head thrown back, mouth slightly agape and eyes half-lidded as she concentrated on the pleasure his body brought. His urgency grew and the tempo of his thrusting increased. Her arms wrapped around him. When she moaned and her hands clutched at his back it was too much for him. A strangled cry escaped him as his hips convulsed in one final shudder.

He collapsed upon her, burying his face in her breasts and they both lay panting, a tangle of arms and legs.

Ammut savored the feel of Hook’s weight upon her. The warm sun beating down on them as they lay, limbs intertwined. His chest pressed against her abdomen and she could feel the heart that beat within him. The heavy warm air surrounded them and Ammut felt satiated. But then another hunger stirred in her as she sensed his heart thumping in its cage. Soon, the desire for it filled her.

He did not resist when she rolled him over and put her lips to his collar bone. She pulled off the bandage on his neck and nuzzled his throat. Her need battled with her desire not to bring him harm. She’s already taken from him that morning, and he’d lost blood from the knife wound too. But then her inhibition melted as he arched his neck into her lips. “Yes, do it,” he whispered, “take it, please.”

Reopening the wound there, she pressed her lips to it and drank what his heart poured into her. He moaned deliriously under her lips. On and on it came as his heart beat furiously within its confines.


Hook didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand why the pull on his heart felt so wonderful and right. Why surrendering his life to this woman brought him such peace. He wanted to give it all to her and his heart nearly burst in his chest trying to do just that. He’d never felt such ecstasy as when he felt himself slipping away into her…,”Take it all,” he pleaded.
But the pull stopped, and eternity rejected him. When he returned to consciousness, he found himself cradled in Ammut’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you. I shouldn’t have taken so much. I’m sorry.”
 

Chapter 17


Hook rested peacefully in the warm night air on a bed of leaves Ammut had made for him. His face was pale, his sleep heavy and deep. Fearful that she’d done him serious harm, she kept a watchful eye on him as she prepared a suitable camp for them.

A fire crackled near by that Ammut marveled at. She’d pulled from the depths of her memories the ancient fire making skill that even the most primitive of men had. Such a powerful, yet simple thing was fire. She had to avoid staring at it too intensely lest it hold her entranced for hours. She had other things to do. Like preparing the fish she’d caught. They had not a knife or blade between them, so Ammut had made use of her other ancient skills and knapped stone into useful cutting implements with which to gut the fish. Neverland was a bountiful place, from which she effortlessly gathered nuts, berries and fruits from their immediate area. For those with the skills, life could be easy on the island. Being top of the food chain didn’t hurt either.

Hook stirred and Ammut dropped what she was doing and rushed to his side. She helped him to a sitting position, “Thirsty,” he muttered. Retrieving a piece of fruit she squeezed it, letting the juices drip in to his mouth. He lapped at it and, then grabbed her wrist and licked the juices that ran down her arm. His eyes cleared and he focused them on her.

“How do you feel,” she asked.

“A little light-headed,” he answered, “How long have I slept?” he asked then.

“Not that long. Through the afternoon. It’s early evening now,” she replied, “You haven’t eaten for several days now. Are you hungry?”

“Yes. Something smells good,” he said nodding his head towards the fire. He eagerly accepted the cooked fish she offered him, eating it with his fingers. He also drank the cool water she provided and had some more fruit.

After the meal, he tried to stand and managed to do so, only wobbling a little. He limped off into the bushes to relieve himself. When he returned, Ammut examined the knife wound and re-bandaged it. When she reached for the bandage at his neck, he caught her wrist, “It’s fine. Really, I’m okay.” The concern in her eyes surprised him.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you,” she said. He released her wrist and brought his hand to cup her face.

“I can’t pretend I understand it,” he said, “But I know I wanted it too.”


But Ammut finally did understand the awful significance of her desire. The mechanizations of fate choked her with its cruelty. Hook was meant to meet his demise in the jaws of The Croc. This she’d known. But there was more to it. And what Peter Pan had said as a taunt was in fact true. Hook had the darkest heart in Neverland. She was Ammut, the Devourer. Upon his death, his heart would be weighed against the feather of Ma’at. The feather of truth. She would be obligated to consume his heart, effectively extinguishing his immortal soul. Never would he have faced this fate if she had not fallen in love with him. Made herself known to him. For now he believed in her. He believed in the Devourer.

She took his hand from her cheek. It was clear now what she had to do, “In the morning I’m taking you back to your ship. You won’t see me again.”

“What?” he sputtered, obviously surprised by her words, “I don’t understand…”

“It’s for your own good. Sleep now. You need to rest,” she stood up then and backed away from him, sitting on the other side of the fire. She’d hurt him. She knew. But it was the only way.


Tomorrow she would take him back to his ship then secret herself away in her grotto. No one could find or reach her there. She would make herself as still as the stones and sleep away the years. This would allow time enough for Hook’s mortal life to pass and time enough for his memory, and the memory of what she was to fade from him. Only this way could she hope to preserve his immortal soul.
To be continued...