Kozmotis Pitchiner; a tall, lithe man with stringy black hair, stood at watch before the prison's only entrance. He was a noble man, the leading General of the Golden Age, in fact, and he stood tall and proud. He looked rather royal dressed in his fine uniform, metals and pins shining in the light, and if the air of self-confidence that radiated out from him didn't scare off an attacker than the large, golden, scythe he held at his side would. From the outside all anyone would see would be a great man standing alone before a prison containing monsters they couldn't see. But those monsters could be heard.
Whispers.
Day in and day out. Whispers. Whispers that could drive any man insane after a short while, but the general was strong. He stood guard, like he vowed he would, unflinching for months. He would think of things to keep his mind off the unrelenting whispers of the monsters imprisoned behind him. Thoughts of all the great battles he had led and won against the beasts behind him. Thoughts of the royal families he had protected. Thoughts of the wonders that the Golden Age offered and how he loved all these wonders indeed. But as the days went by he grew lonely, as any man would.
Just let us out, please, we can be friends!
When he was lonely the whispers were worse. In his loneliest moments the whispers would try to entice him to open the door. If only he would let them out they would take away his loneliness. They would be great allies. If only he would let them out. General Pitchiner was no fool. He knew these monsters would only bring death and destruction if they were let out; knew they cared nothing about his loneliness. But he was only human and eventually his loneliness became his crippling weakness.
We want to get out. We're lonely, too. We want to go home, please.
Months had passed since the noble general made his vow to the royals of the constellations. While he once had stood tall and proud with an aurora of self-confidence he now stood with a slight slouch. He was tired and his exhaustion was visible to anyone who would look upon him, not that anyone ever did anymore. No one was allowed to see the man who was keeping the nightmares and Fearlings at bay. It had been months since he'd seen another human being, months that he was left only with the whispers.
Let us out. We just want to see the universe again. Please, we're so lonely.
The tired general closed his eyes and sighed. So long these monsters had pleaded with him in their whispered tones to let them go. He knew he shouldn't, knew he couldn't trust them, but maybe they were lonely like he was. He had been wondering this for a while, surely it was not just humans who miss the world, maybe monsters could, too. The general sat down. What he wouldn't give to step down from his post. What he wouldn't give to see his family again. To see the daughter he took this position to ensure the safety of. He pulled out a small photo of his young daughter. Oh, how he missed her. He missed the way she smiled, the way she laughed. He missed the way she would come in to dinner covered in dirt from the gardens she tended so carefully. He missed the tales she would tell him of all the things the flowers and animals had told her about during the day. She had always told him the best stories. He realized that it was him who was supposed to be telling her stories, but she loved telling them to him and didn't mind, and he really did love those stories of hers. He clutched the photo to his chest, the feeling of longing caused a physical pain in his chest.
Daddy?
His eyes snapped open and he was on his feet in an instant. In his haste to get up he dropped the photo and it crashed to the ground by his feet.
Daddy where am I?
"Sweetheart?" his voice was hoarse, in the long months guarding the prison he hadn't spoken a single word. He looked around frantically for any sight of his beloved daughter.
Daddy! Daddy help me! They've got me, Daddy! Please! Please save me!
"They have you?" his voice cracked and tears began to leak from his eyes. He spun around to face the solitary exit of the prison.
Yes, Daddy! They caught me! They've had me the whole time! Please save me, Daddy. I'm so scared! I wanna go home! Help me, Daddy!
In addition to the relentless whispering a new sound emerged. A horrible, blood curdling scream.
Daddy!
And the general Kozmotis Pitchiner broke. He had to rescue his daughter. Faster than he had ever moved before he threw open the door that kept all the horrors of the universe at bay.
Silence.
Everything was still a moment and the man stood frozen to the spot he stood. Why was everything so quiet? Why hasn't his daughter come rushing into his arms?
That's when he saw it. A great storm of Fearlings came flying out of the prison. They rose like a tidal wave as they all flooded out of the exit. Pitchiner was surrounded by their inky blackness as they traveled around him.
Into him.
The monsters flooded into him, suffocating him, until his eyes closed and the great general Kozmotis Pitchiner died.
Almost instantaneously Pitch Black's eyes snapped open. He couldn't remember where he was, or what was happening, all he knew was that his dearest Fearlings were swarming around him, waiting for his command. He knew what they wanted – what he wanted, though he was not entirely sure why he wanted it. The feeling seemed to have come from somewhere deep inside his frozen soul. A desire that needed to be acted upon, a desire that seemed to have come from nowhere.
Pitch smiled as the thought of vengeance spread through him, making him feel warm again. He may not know the exact reason for this need of vengeance but he would have it. He would lead his Fearlings into a great war against the cosmos. It was he who would bring an end to the Golden Age.