Hey guys! Temajji here with my first, non-oneshot story. ^^

Well, as you've probably guessed, I'm a pretty big fan of ROTG, but since this is my first ROTG piece, I'm always looking forward to some advise to make my stories better.

Sadly, I don't own anything here except for my character(s) and the plot line.

Enjoy!

Chapter One:
Pitch rising…Again

The streetlamps flickered along the cold, dark streets of London, illuminating the stray cats and scurrying rats as the slunk through the shadows, avoiding what few people could be out late at night. Suddenly, near a small park, the lamps went out with out any warning, startling several late-night park-goers. As the people scattered, one cat- a small, black scrap of fur, could only hiss in surprise as a tall, dark figure stepped out from the shadows, startling it.

The figure laughed as it watched the cat bound away. "Yes, run little pussy cat," It cooed. "You don't want to be here for this." The figure laughed again before pausing just outside the park gates.

Idly, the figure stared into the dark woods for a long moment. "You know I see you-you might as well come out." He called.

At first silence greeted him, then; "I thought you were dead."

"Oh my dear, you and I both know that I will always be around-so long as there's fear in the world." The dark figure chuckled and stepped under the only lamp in the vicinity that hadn't spontaneously died off, revealing the sinister, slightly ashy-gray-skinned face we all know and love.

At the same time, a figure emerges from the park's treeline. At first the figure appeared slender and misshapen. As it neared however, it became quite apparent that it was a pooka. A FEMALE pooka to be exact. She had a more slander frame than her male counterpart and had pale gray fur with a white belly and ear tips. A pair of thick, loose leather belts hung around her waist-one of them holding a small knife sheath. Long, black-streaked fur, flopped over her face, hiding one of her now-furious brown eyes from view. A dark red, sleeveless vest-buttoned closed with several brass buttons was her only protection from the chilly London night. But the cold was the least of the rabbit's worries.

"Pitch!" She snapped. "Don't even think that for one moment you can just come here and-"

Pitch laughed and held up his hand. "Patience rabbit. I'm not here to cause trouble, I merely want to talk."
The pooka eyed him warily. "Why should I trust you?" She hissed, baring her teeth like some feral cat. "After all, if my memory serves correctly, the last time you showed your face, you tried to cover the world in your fear and darkness, even resorting to kidnapping the fairies and ruining Easter!"
"That was ancient history."
" THAT WAS LAST FREAKIN' YEAR!" She snarled, rushing at the motionless boogieman, knife at the ready. Her charge was cut short however, when Pitch snapped his fingers and a nightmare-just as dark and sandy as ever- leaped from a nearby building and firmly planted itself in her path, barring her charge.

Pitch wagged a finger at the furious rabbit. "Tsk tsk tsk, temper temper." He cooed. "You really ought to take anger management classes Souluna." He tittered, stepping forward to pat the pooka on the head

-Only to jerk his hand back in fear of loosing his fingers.

The pooka-Souluna-Growled and put some space between her and the nightmare that neighed and allowed Pitch to pet its muzzle. "All right Black-what do you want?"

Pitch pulled a hurt expression on his face. "Why, I'm hurt Soul. What makes you think that I would come here NOT to see my good friend?"

Souluna "harrumphed" And put her hands on her hips as she glared at the nightmare master. "One: You ALWAYS want something. Two: It's you, and three: I'm not your friend."

"Ouch. Hurtful."

"Just get to the point Black-before I kick your ass all the way back to the miserable little worm hole you first crawled out of."

Pitch gave her a dangerous glare before he chuckled. "Very well. Here's my proposition: An alliance."

"A who an' what now?"

"An. Alliance. You and me." He smirked and began to close the gap between him and her, still careful to remain outside of the rabbit's bite zone. "Just think, you and me, ruling the world, being believed in by all the children in the world. It would be EASY if you join me. I mean, just think! With your skills and my nightmares, we can finally show the world that we DO exist! That we WANT to be believed in! And all we have to do is-"

"Kill the guardians?" Souluna interrupted, taking a menacing step towards the boogieman, who took a couple of retreating steps. "You know just as damn well as I do-I'M NOT GOING TO DO THAT KIND OF THING."

She growled at him, her ears flat against her head. "You should have known the answer from the beginning." She growled yet again as she took more steps towards him. "And you should know," She hissed as the space between them shrank down to a mere and week foot. "That if you ever show up again-I WILL snap your neck."

Pitch remained as stoic as ever as the angry pooka approached. But deep down, it took all of his will power not to show fear. He stayed like this until she was close enough to see the rage in her deep brown eyes. 'Good grief! She's just-'

" CLEAR?" The pooka growled, making sure to get her real message out and known to Pitch: Stay the hell away from me or I'll make you wish you were in hell.

Pitch swallowed, feeling slightly uncomfortable under the she-rabbit's glare. "As clear as the moon is tonight." He replied coolly, casually waving a hand in the moon's general direction as it shown in the night sky among the stars-ALL, clear as day.

With one last snort, Souluna steps back and, tipping an imaginary hat, quickly taps the ground twice with her foot. "GOOD. And remember it, nightmare king."

No sooner had the words left her lips than a thin, white mist slowly rose from the ground and enveloped her, hiding her from the boogieman's view. No sooner had it done so, than the mist fell away, revealing empty space that held no trace of evidence that the All Soul's day spirit had been there-save for a small patch of dead grass.

Eyeing the patch of now-dead grass, Pitch let out a small, yet amused chuckle. "You want to play difficult? Okay, let's play."