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

“Jesse couldn't picture a more desolate setting to meet his end. He watched the water drops gather and slide down the windshield, remembered how as a child he'd pretend they were eating each other, tried to pretend he was sitting in the back of his daddy's car now heading over to Grandma's for dinner.”

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

“Death has come to cut your throats and drink your blood!”

“My name's Peter. Can I play too?”

“Peter," she whispered and reached out, touching his cheek. "My little Peterbird? You flew back to me.”

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