I had another burning idea and I decided to write it. As if I didn't already have enough stories to write.
Please Review and tell me what you think. It would make my day.:)
He dragged his feet across the ground, his powerless state getting to him. He passed a shop window and stared miserably at his reflection. His shadow-like robe was worn and torn in random places, the colour a bit grey, like his skin. His once spiking black hair, now flopped behind him, in no state to stand. Just like him. He had bags under his eyes, despite not needing sleep in the first place. Before, golden eyes shone with cunning and wit. Now dulled and empty.
Pitch Black was nothing more than a shadow of his former self. After his recent defeat at the hands of the Guardians, he had been attacked by his nightmares. It had been a hard fight, but eventually, he gained just enough strength to overcome them. Now he just wandered, looking for someway to get even the slightest power.
He turned to continue his tired trudge as two running children ran through him, unknowingly. He lifted a hand to his chest for a moment before dropping it. Those weren't the first to have ran through him since he escaped, but they certainly weren't the last. He sighed at what he now was. Before, those children would have hurt him greatly, maybe even angered him, but now? Now he was used to it. It was nothing more then a brief pain. If he didn't do something soon, he would be lying on the footpath, continuing to be walked over like doormat.
As Pitch pressed on, he took in the night. It was near 10 but was extremely bright, due to the many lights that shone in the city of New York. People walked around, on their way home for the night. Children were having last minute snowball fights, trying to make the most of the November snow before they were hauled home by their parents. A cold blast of wind shot through the air, causing Pitch to shiver slightly. However, as it passed, he felt a strong pulse of something he had not felt in while.
A pulse of fear.
Eagerly, the Boogeyman ran after it and found himself at the end of a narrow alley. A young woman, who looked to be in her early 20s, walked through. She wore a thick green coat with a furred hood. Her hat, scarf and gloves were also green, little, intricate, dark green leaf-like designs adorning them. Despite being wrapped up so tight, she shivered and wrapped her arms around her, looking around, scared. She came closer and closer to Pitch, said spirit preparing for her to walk through him.
Therefore, he was greatly surprised when she stopped short of him and gasped in terror. Now that he was right in front of her, he could see her eyes were green, like the garments she wore, and her hair was long, wavy and black. The emerald orbs, fixated on his own amber.
None said a word, but he could feel her fear of him slowly disappearing. However, as a strong gust of wind passed through the alleyway, she automatically jumped into him, fear coming from her in thick luscious waves. Once the gust vanished, she realised what she had unintentionally done and snapped back.
"I'm so, so sorry, Sir! I didn't me-"
"-It is fine." Pitch told her, his voice smooth and cool. "I know it was unintentional. Now if you don't mind my asking, why is a young woman walking through the alleyways at this time at night? You have heard the stories of what happens to people like you in these parts."
She gulped and nodded meekly, like a child being reprimanded by their parents. "I was just on my way home. What about you?"
Pitch sighed forlornly. "Unlike you, I have no destination in mind."
"Would you like to stay with me for the night?"
The question caught Pitch off guard. He considered the woman before him, taking in her sincere expression. When it seemed like he wouldn't answer, she elaborated.
"It's the least I can do for, ya know, jumping at you so impromtly."
There was another silence.
"If it is no bother.."
"No! Of course not. Come with me."
As she began to walk away, Pitch called for her. "Wait!" She turned and looked at him confused. "Before we leave this alleyway, there is something I must tell you." He admitted. As luck would have it, he didn't need to explain himself. A child came through the alley with his parents and walked through Pitch, right in front of the young woman. She put a hand to her mouth in shock.
"You're...you're a spirit."
Pitch shrugged nonchalantly. "You're pretty smart. Most people would have called me a ghost. However, yes. I am a spirit. The Boogeyman, to be more specific. I normally go by the name Pitch Black."
To his surprise, she quickly got over her shock. "Why can I see you if that boy and his parents couldn't?"
He pointed at her. "You believe I exist." He pointed behind him where the family had been walking a moment ago. "They do not."
She nodded and gestured for him to follow. Just before they left the alleyway, he paused his step and asked. "What's your name?"
She stopped as well, and answered. "My name is Anya. Anya Shippermier."