The Child Thief

If you don't learn to laugh at life it'll surely kill you, that I know.

Don't let them win. Don't let them beat you. Don't let them steal your magic.

Everything comes with a price. Everything. Some things just cost more than others.

There is always something left to lose.

And Peter laughed, and when he did, all the Devils grinned, because Peter's laugh was a most contagious thing.

For Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.

Almost lost you," he thought, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. "Been through too much, me and you. We're going to finish this thing together.

Both sides so blinded by their fear and hate of each other that they couldn't see they were all fighting for the same thing.

The darkness is calling. A little danger, a little risk. Feel your heart race. Listen to it. That’s the sound of being alive. It’s your time, Nick. Your one chance to have fun before it’s all stolen by them, the adults, with their cruelty and endless rules, their can’t-do-this, and can’t-do-that’s, their have-tos, and better-dos, their little boxes and cages all designed to break your spirit, to kill your magic.

My tale doesn't end there, for the end has yet to be written.

Go and play. Run around. Build something. Break something. Climb a tree. Get dirty. Get in some trouble. Have some fun.

Peter glanced up at the stars and a wicked smile lit his face. "Time to play," he whispered to the stars and winked. And the stars winked back, for Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.

Children like yourselves are full of magic, but the men have turned, they've lost their magic to the fear and hatred they harbor for all that they can't explain, control, or understand.

Peter finds the lost, the left-behind, the abused. Is that not why you are here? Did Peter not save you?

And may God be merciful, because these twisted men will not.

Peter's face clouded. "Everything comes at a price. Or have you not learned that yet?

The boy planted his hands on his hips and a broad smile lit his face. "My name's Peter. Can I play too?

But he was sick of this charade. Sick of watching people lose a little more of their humanity each day, and sick to death of seeing people tortured in the name of God. What had happened to these people?

Peter stood up and let a wicked smile slide across his face. "Time to play.

But Peter had seen too much, knew too well that men-kind didn't need an excuse to be cruel and murder one another.

Peter didn't answer. He pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them, and put his chin on his knees. Ever the contradiction, Tanngnost thought. One moment a cold-hearted killer, the next a sentimental boy, always the eternal optimist despite a lifetime of tragedy. Of course, that's his glamour. The very thing that draws the children to him, makes them love him despite so many contradictions. (The Child Thief)

Enough talk," Peter said, and his eyes flashed. "It's time to turn you three into killers.

My name's Peter. Can I play too?

Did he dare trust this insane boy?

If the girl could only have spoken to the other boys and girls, the ones that had followed the golden-eyed boy before her, she would have known that there is always something left to lose.