So this is if anyone actually wants to read this story. comment if you want me to continue this and if you have any ideas I'd like to hear them. just one thing: no ships.
summary: Jack has been alone for a hundred years, of course he could still be happy even in isolation that is f the other spirits would've left him be. Those years that he had to be mentally and physically tortured, started taking a toll. The hatred and the murderous gleam that burned in their eyes, their venom filled words that bit into his skin, it was all too much. Darkness was what he first remembered, who knew it was an omen that suggested him being alone in it. But, what if, someone had taken him in? They saw the lack of spark and knew what it meant. They didn't want to see him lose his mind. What went better with cold and...?
Darkness. It was just nothing yet it was something. It hung in the corners, in places where the light didn't reach—couldn't shine, in one's mind. The first thing people are afraid of when they first come to the world. As they grow, some continue to fear it, others adapt to it, while the unique ones find comfort in it. People always steered clear of the unique ones—only when they find out—in fear of going insane themselves. The darkness was quiet and mostly fools (as what most people thought of the unique ones) would enjoy locking themselves away with the risk of losing their mind.
Alas, there are those few who are forced to spend by themselves in the silent, cold and unforgiving arms of Darkness. These are forced into madness without a clue of what they did to deserve such a fate. The lucky ones are those who are found before such a thing were to happen. While some are found a little too late. Their mind had slowly gone, leaving a problematic one behind. These have a chance of being save or going fully insane.
One of those unfortunate souls was a winter spirit named, Jack Frost. He was a winter spirit left alone for a hundred years in darkness, silence, and disdain—who were to blame him if he did go off the deep end? He was the bringer of cold, starvation, fear and death which were the reasons why the other spirits hated despised the young winter spirit. Humans, they had no clue he even existed, they couldn't see, touch or hear him. Alone in the cruel, cruel world with only pain and suffering that were brought by and onto him. He slowly started going insane. It was frightening, to say the least, he didn't know what this feelings that were coming over him. He didn't know why he was cursed to be the way he was and the voices were not helping the situation, neither were the spirits. It got so bad that he started hiding, avoiding any and every contact with others.
There were a few close encounters but he managed to get away before anything could get too bad. He stayed in isolation, being in the unforgiving cold of Antarctica and only leaving to do his job. There were some spirits that had noticed how he never smiled as much as he used to but instead he had no emotion, just dull blue eyes that were drained of joy. Some spirits didn't know what that meant. They've never seen a fellow spirit lose their spark. Even Pitch Black—the Nightmare King—still had a gleam in his golden orbs. Never had a spirit have dull eyes, not even the eyeless ones (a small burning flame was all one could see) and yet no one said or done a thing. They decided a may not even be anything important, probably a phase he was going through, seeing as he looked to be around his teenage years when he became a spirit (not that it stopped other spirits from giving him some bruises).
A few months had passed since the last time they had seen the winter spirit happy or even give off a small smile. Only some of the caring spirits were getting worried since they didn't know what it meant for the always joyful male. Of course, no one dared to even so much as to speak to him.
It was almost the end of winter for the northern hemisphere and Jack was making his last rounds for the day when he was approached by a black cloaked figure. The figure rode a beautiful obsidian horse, its mane blowing in the wind, and its eyes were pure carmine. The moon was a crescent in the sky but its light was blocked by thick, dark clouds so it was difficult for Jack to see who the figure was, of course he didn't care since everyone who could see him only hurt him. The wind was anxious, terrified almost as it whispered to Jack, telling him they should leave. This figure must be greatly feared for the wind would never have acted this way towards another. Then again, the mare's image seemed to be rippling as it goes from a furred animal to that of a skeleton. This would make anyone want to turn high tail and get out of there. His dull, sunken eyes traveled to the figure astride the said animal.
Said figure gave off a dark and disturbing aura as it watched the winter spirit. It noticed the lack of spark, the way his youthful face had not one emotion. The figure could feel the shift in the wind, feeling the fear it had around its presence. It could feel the protectiveness that the abiotic thing had for the child. Of course, there was a reason why he was here. It was for what the moon stole from it.
A movement caught the rider's attention and saw the boy move to leave. It reached out, wrapping a skeletal hand around the boy's arm, noticing the flinch that he gave. Silence hung in the cold, crisp air as it wrapped around them like a blanket. Jack didn't need to be told who this was, for he had realized who this person was and had a thought of what it might want.
"Come with me," the figure said. "I wish to speak with you." Jack couldn't describe his voice sounded. It was low and raspy, yet smooth and soothing with an underlying tone as if he held a promise to not mess with him. It was hard to give any type of detail, hard to even pinpoint on its mood.
The white haired boy hesitated but had a feeling that he was telling the truth. He only wanted to talk, not to harm him in anyway. He hoped that he would keep up to it. Nodding, much to the discomfort of the wind, Jack followed him. If all went well, who better to take him in than Death?