Neverland

He’d been just an infant when the Master had acquired him. Finch knew nothing of taking care of babies, or children for that matter, so when the child had been given to him as payment, Finch was tempted just to toss him to the wolves and watch them feast. But when the baby opened his eyes, they were such a clear blue that could neither be sapphire nor just blue. Those eyes were exquisite, so Master Finch had kept the babe, raising the child to be a servant like his other demons were. Finch’s world was dangerous for one so young, though, as he lived and ruled the street called Neverland. This street was where you could find anything you desired, and could acquire it. For a price. Finch was law in this place and all who lived and worked here, be they human or demon, deferred to him.

In time, the child had begun to do the same. Finch marveled at this little human’s ability to adapt, and sought to keep him around. Already the boy had learned to avoid anything bigger than he that wished to eat him, and followed around Master Finch like a shadow. So this was how Finch called him, and soon, the boy became known as Shadows, Master Finch’s favourite, Master Finch’s pet, toy, and messenger. At ten years, Shadows no longer had to fear the larger demons and men that had once sought to hurt him. Instead, they feared him, afraid one wrong step against him would bring Finch’s wrath down on them. But Shadows never wronged them. He never attacked them, never intruded on them unless it was for the Master’s business, and if it wasn’t personal, he would wait patiently like his namesake.

The inhabitants of Neverland soon began to enjoy the child’s silent presence, knowing he observed everything and kept his mouth shut when another would protest. He was a good boy, Shadows, and then he became Master Finch’s collector.

He would leave Neverland each night and hunt down unpaid contracts, taking the payment or the object back. Some nights, he came back drenched in blood, his beautiful blue eyes haunted and dull, and he would curl up with Master Finch and cry. Many thought him weak, but just as many argued he was only a child. Give him a few more years and it would become second nature.

Finch watched Shadows now, knowing the boy to be something precious to him. At sixteen now, the boy was beautiful, black hair tangled in braids and tails (the geishas had gotten to him) and his eyes so expressive that Finch never wanted to let the boy go. Still, he had no choice, and time and time again he let Shadows go to fulfill the contracts that were left unpaid. The man sat behind his desk, leafing through contracts to find those that he would give Shadows to complete tomorrow night. Maybe he would give the boy a vacation. Maybe he would take one too.

He glanced up as Shadows entered his office, tired and beaten. The boy shuffled to his customary spot and stood there, waiting to be acknowledged. Finch studied him for a moment before he reached out and gathered the boy into his arms, drawing his precious servant onto his lap, holding him close. Shadows relaxed almost immediately, arms wrapping around his master’s shoulders as he closed his eyes, relaxing.

In that moment, Finch knew he’d chosen correctly when he refused to let Shadows die. In the world he ruled, this was the best gift of all.