The cold was tangible in her room. It was sharp and steely, knifing through her blankets and sapping the warmth from her.
This is ridiculous, she thought. It's so cold in here I'm shaking.
Sophie forced her eyes to open, still sticky with sleep, and sit up. The golden dream sand had long since ceased dancing in the air above her, a fact which left her feeling slightly irritated. She hadn't had a good dream like that for a long while.
She pushed the quilted covers back, her heavily-lidded eyes scanning the darkness, not quite used to the light yet.
It could not be the man who lived in the shadows and all that was lightless. Her pleasant dreams had been proof enough that he had not visited tonight. And while it was true that on occasion the man of darkness would visit her and let her sleep soundly on a small whim, lulling her into a false sense of security in this way, Sophie knew that this twilit night was not one of those times.
The man under her bed, in her closet, in the dim corners of her room, in her very own shadow, held a presence about him that was reminiscent of spilt ink on white clothes—it clung uncomfortably to your skin, bleeding onto your flesh while sullying your outfit.
She couldn't feel a presence like that at the moment, a thought which left her feeling both thankful and anxious. Who else could it be that would visit her?
She had an answer. The man of her nightmares did not make the air frigid with cold. He brought a cloying, thick humidity that threatened to choke her each time he came.
No, the only one who would make her room this cold was the boy of her dreams—a boy of the beautiful, white pureness and ice, a sort of opposite to the man of the pitch black.
But Sophie would not voice her suspicions outright, aloud. She refused to hope.
But still, it had been a long time since she had seen Jack last.
Slowly, Sophie eased herself out of bed, her muscles still languid from sleep. Snatching up a spare blanket from the bed and wrapping it about her shoulders to keep from freezing, she tiptoed lightly across her bedroom floor so as not to awaken her family.
She flinched whenever an old rickety floorboard creaked. She would pause, holding her breath unwittingly, listening intently into the quiet darkness. Only after a minute or two of noiselessness would she then take up her sleuthing once more.
The blonde squinted her eyes against the dark, scrutinizing the shadows tucked away in the corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of his trademark white hair or a passing snowflake or something of that sort.
While it was a rare thing, it certainly wouldn't be unusual for the mischievous teenager that happened to control their snow days and ice storms and had a reputation for "nipping" peoples' noses to visit his two very first believers at the Bennett house. That is, Jamie and Sophie Bennett.
Jack did visit them on occasion, though he seemed to prefer meeting outside in his element in a spur-of-the-moment. He became bored easily trapped inside in a house like theirs, so visits to their home were kept to a minimum, but that kept each trip special, she thought.
It was because of this very mentality that exactly ten months ago, Jack had accidentally wandered into her room while she'd been sleeping and had woken her up, thinking it was Jamie.
Sophie could laugh now at the incident, but at the time she'd been scared senseless. He'd unknowingly woken her up in the middle of REM sleep, and her being quite prone to sleep paralysis thanks to the man of her nightmares, Sophie had had an episode.
Jack's form had become obscured with a new monstrous one. Or rather, it had been superimposed over him, her mind garbling his image as it fought to process its surroundings in the gloom.
His face contorted, his smile peeling back and tearing away up to his ears, revealing razor-sharp shark teeth. The whites of his eyes bled black, the irises burning to a brassy-nickel like two shiny coins that glinted in the dark. His pupils turned to reptile-like slits. Parts of his skin scraped away in black twisting gouges that left behind eerie bone-deep wounds. His white hair was black, and he had a pallor like that of a dead man's.
It had been horrifying, hearing her name spoken by him, the sound distorted to a deep, maleficent howl by her brain.
He had started to approach her, and this being the breaking point, Sophie had screamed with a shrillness that had made the whole house shudder as the walls vibrated with the sound.
Even once Jamie had found his way into her room, woken by her shrieks, the vision had not ended. Jamie's body was morphed to that of a grotesque creature with large black empty eye-sockets and a gaping black maw. She had only been able to calm down when she'd blinked a few times, gaining control of her body and her senses in gradual time as her brother hung back, learning that it was best to keep his distance from her until the nightmare had run its course.
When she'd cried his name, Jamie had surged forward and hugged her tight enough to squeeze her heaving lungs into submission. There had been tears in her eyes as she'd buried her face into her big brother's shirt.
Their mother had dashed to her room, storming up the stairs with hurried, thunderous steps, shouting for Jamie and Sophie. She hadn't seen Jack, who sulked in the corner of the room. She only saw her son soothing his little sister from another one of her frequent nightmares.
After offering up her usual sigh of relief, half-hearted scolding, and talk of possibly getting Sophie a counselor and her daughter's obligatory denials and reassuring smiles, their mother left for bed once she had her children's word to go to bed soon and get some sleep.
Following a minute or so of being reassured on both sides, Jack had pulled away from his corner and explained with a somewhat surly attitude that he'd come to see them, but had accidentally wandered into Sophie's room. He had chosen to wake her up anyways, seeing as it was somewhat pointless to go to Jamie's room and backtrack. He hadn't known Sophie would "freak out on him," as he put in his own indignant words.
Jamie had teased Jack then, understanding without any actual physically exchanged words that Jack had been worried sick for Sophie at her wailing and terrified face that had stared unseeingly straight at him.
To his credit, the winter spirit had apologized afterwards. At the time, he'd come to say good-bye to her and Jamie. He had thought he had slipped into her brother's bedroom and had been embarrassed when he'd realized he was, in fact, in Sophie's. His hope had been to wake Jamie, who would then go and wake her all neat and convenient-like and without fuss. The color in his cheeks had deepened as he explained that it felt improper to sneak into a girl's room in the middle of the night without a chaperone of some sort.
Jack was strange that way. Sophie had just figured it was an old-fashioned courtesy that came with the boy's centuries-old upbringing of not thinking it "polite" to see her in her possibly explicit ("you never know" he'd said) bedclothes. They all three had later laughed it off with jokes of Jack's old age and being behind the times.
She had even invited Jack to come visit her again sometime after giving him her timid assurance that it was quite all right for him to see her alone if he wanted, though she hadn't really seen hair nor hide of him since that fateful April night when he'd left for the summer.
Maybe he's come back, Sophie thought, eyes peeled for the silhouette of a shepherd's crook. Vacant shadows and soundlessness met her stare.
There was nothing there.
It really had only been a draft from her window.
Sophie silently chided herself, quietly pulling her window shut and latching it before turning on the ball of her foot like a dancer to prance off to her bed and curl up under the blankets and fall asleep once more.
Or at least, that's what she'd been planning to do.
She hadn't even come as far as taking a step forward. As soon as she turned, she came face-to-face with a chest clothed in a dark sweatshirt frosted with filigree ice patterns. Taking a clumsy step back, she saw that there was more to the taller figure—it had the long, lanky legs of a model and bare feet. He held a shepherd's hook in one hand; the other was outstretched in offer of her own.
"Is that you, Jack?" Sophie whispered.
The figure stepped out from the shadows, and indeed, he bore a striking resemblance to the Guardian of Fun she'd known most of her life in his features and stature, but somehow, in her heart, she knew that this wasn't the Jack Frost she'd grown up with. He was someone entirely different, though it wasn't obvious just in this boy's black hair and molten silver-gold eyes that looked as if they were trying to burn a hole through her. It was in his very demeanor that left her leery of him. His smirk was contemptuous and the look in his eyes was predatorial, like she was something he was going to eat for lunch. There was no kindness in his expression, and the next words that came out of his mouth exuded a sense of threat.
"You really shouldn't leave your window open like that."
Sophie tripped on her own feet as she anxiously backed away from him. Her body fell back against her will and better judgment, adrenaline already shooting through her system and sending her into fight-or-flight mode.
Ragged, unadulterated fear shone in her eyes as she felt herself free-falling through the air, with nothing in between her and the floor. Her breath left her as her lungs froze in shock. She couldn't scream. This was worse than her sleep paralysis. This was her real fear—her phobia. She waited for the painful impact of her head smashing and rebounding against the hard ground and the bruising crash of her tailbone, hips, and elbows.
It never came.
Sophie felt herself suspended, cradled securely in winter-personified's chilly embrace.
The shock of finding herself in Jack's arms only added more tempo to her jack-hammering heart, her pupils dilating to three times their normal size. Oxygen found her again as it rushed down her windpipe and filled her lungs once more. Her breath came in short bursts as she stared up into those smoldering eyes, paralyzed like a deer caught in the headlights.
Jack's laugh sounded wrong to her ringing ears. It was dark and bitter like a bark, and Sophie flinched from the foreignness of it.
This was definitely worse than her sleep paralysis, or even the falling for that matter. Because this was real. Her nightmares were real now. They'd been brought to life, a totally contradictory concept from the "just bad dreams" philosophy she'd been raised to believe in. The false security of it shattered and crashed down around her in a thousand million pieces.
She had turned away, unseeing of his presence in the corner. She had frowned with disappointment, not knowing he was there, watching her, angry at the fact that she had not noticed him, though some part of him knew he should have blamed Pitch's shadows for doing their work too well.
It hadn't sat right with him. If he had one pet peeve, it was being ignored like he didn't exist.
He'd sought to change that, propelling himself forward to stand just a hair's breadth behind her, hoping to gain her attention very quickly that way.
Jack stared down at her blonde head, noting that she was still short for her age of thirteen years. She appeared younger physically in comparison to him, a boy just short of being a man. He was so close to touching her petite form. He wanted to—
Sophie moved then, automatically fulfilling his wishful thinking as she whirled around to go to bed.
And the consequences had been very real.
Sophie crashed into him gently, her exclamation of surprise muffled by the thick cloth of his sweater, her lips barely grazing him as they moved. Her voice vibrated against his sternum, a warm gasp tumbling out and seeping into his skin just beneath the surface of his hoodie like a puff of dragon's breath, making him tingle with sensation.
Sophie pushed herself away from him, taking her heat with her, the terror entering her spring-green eyes as she took him in. She was trembling, he noted with something like half-amusement and half-dismay.
The small teen stumbled in her quick back-walking, gravity taking the light weight of her body down with quick and easy work. She lurched backward, arms raking the air furiously, fighting to keep her ground with little success. She was falling, falling…
Jack, I'm really scared of falling. It really hurts.
He remembered the bruised shins, the scraped knees, the raw elbows, the split hands. He remembered them more clearly than most memories.
He remembered his pledge, one he always kept and always would intend to, no matter what.
I promise I won't ever let you fall, Sophie.
He saw the critical terror in her pleading eyes.
Jack found himself holding her, cradling her in his arms just like he used to when she was younger. There was a new meaning to his gesture, though, now. He looked at her, just looked at her for what she was—a girl.
Sophie's hair was just as untidy as when she was little and cut it herself. He took brief observation of the gold earrings she wore before perceiving the smudged makeup underneath her eyes and remnants of mascara still clinging to her eyelashes, making her large green eyes seem to jump out. While she looked plenty pretty without it, it still emphasized her beauty to a new degree that he found entrancing.
He pressed closer to her, feeling her warmth leech from her and to him. It was intoxicating—her warmth—her scent of laundry detergent, her soap, her lingering flower perfume—her.
But he quickly stopped himself.
For a moment—for just a moment—he'd felt her heat stir something in him. Her warmth had distilled the empty coldness, if only for just a moment, one particle of a second.
He'd felt.
But the feeling quickly faded.
"People like me might find a way in, you know," he said, sniggering at her newfound fear of him. His eyes were hungry, gauging her every move and holding her gaze intensely.
Sophie was almost hyperventilating now. He just kept leaning in closer and closer to her, and the closer he got, the more reasons that came into her head why she should run, that this wasn't her friend Jack. This boy was toying with her, she reasoned. She was paralyzed, a frightened little rabbit caught in the death-grip of the jaws of a wolf, powerless, vulnerable. It was as if he'd frozen her with his winter magic, but in a way that sapped the very strength from her bones. She couldn't move, couldn't save herself even if she tried.
He had caught her from her fall only to imprison her in her own body.
"Aw, come on, Soph, don't tell me you're afraid of me, are you?" Jack leered, leaning in so far that his black bangs grazed her forehead, earning a shiver from the small girl.
His whole being was radiating cold and dominance. The boy who was winter-incarnate was draining the heat right out of her, leaving her only his low body temperature to quiver with pitifully. He emanated power. I am the alpha, he seemed to silently say to her as he towered over her on those extensive legs of his. And with that power, she felt her chances of survival slowly slipping away.
"Sophie?"
Her bedroom lights suddenly flicked on. Standing in her doorway was her older brother Jamie, his hand hovering on the light-switch on the wall next to him. His brown eyes narrowed as he mentally processed the scene before him.
"Jack?" Jamie asked, his voice skeptical. Cautious. "Is that you? What's going on here? Where've you been?"
He might as well have fun in this position he put himself in.
Sure, it had started out innocently enough. He'd lost control for a second. But now he had a handle on himself, and he needed to justify this suddenly awkward moment.
Besides, Jack had seen the doubt and urgently aware fear in her face. There was panic in her stance, even as he had disregarded all thoughts of the darkness inside him telling him to wreak havoc on her.
Make her screech. Make her writhe in agony. Let her feel the pain you have felt. Make her suffer as you have.
The voices constantly whispered in his ear, their incessant hushed snarls speaking from the very depths of his anger and hurt. They were hard to ignore as it was. It was impossible to deny those impulses when Sophie only fueled the resentment burning in him.
It was worse than being ignored. Being feared for a crime he hadn't committed? It left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't deserve that, he thought. His disappointment and rage were roiling in him. He had a purpose there, one that would exact his vengeance on this girl who made him feel unwelcome things—things that were of no use to him and only plunged him further into the darkness.
He swallowed the sour taste on his tongue and welcomed it. He let it slowly consume him in all its acerbity reminiscent of his reason for being there. It reminded him of his mission.
He had a job to do.
The room abruptly brightened into focus as a finger found a switch to the outlet, illuminating the walls and floor with relative clarity.
Jack blinked, his eyes glancing briefly at the ceiling. It seemed Sophie had redecorated since he'd last visited.
In place of an overhead lamp, the faux exposed rafters had been wrapped with white Christmas lights that put off a buttery glow, flaring to life as Jamie flipped the light-switch on. They looked like stars if he squinted.
Her walls were also painted a different color: a pastel, mellow tea green. In place of the butterflies that had decorated the walls since she'd been an infant were lovely photos and respectable drawings, garlands of what consisted largely of origami flowers and birds (amongst other things) and one large ornament in the shape of a tree that took up one whole wall. Glass orbs hung alongside the holiday string lights, some tinted with colors that threw rainbows on the floor and walls like watercolor, thin and wavering. A bookshelf stood guard in one corner. The only familiar aspect of the room was the stuffed animals and plush toys pushed in a haphazard pile on her bed. He thought he spied a bunny rabbit before he rested his eyes on the boy standing in the doorway.
He shouldn't have been surprised at the room's transformation. Jack had been away for a long while, and the whimsical decorations befitted her. Sophie was quite poetic by nature.
But Jack still felt a little…left out, you could say. Seeing so much change in his absence. So many things had been altered while he was gone. They had picked up and moved on without his consent, without his knowledge, without him. It was as if he hadn't even mattered in the first place.
Something black coiled in his gut at the thought.
"Oh, nothing," Jack responded casually. "I was just saying hello to your sister here. Been a long time, hasn't it? Well, now that you're here and we're reunited and all, let's get this party started."
Sophie hadn't yet comprehended what had happened until Jack spoke again, vaguely registering that his cold hands and arms had shifted on her. She was dazed, in a shell-shock state of full-blown disbelief.
Because no, no, no, no, no. This wasn't Jack. Not her Jack. This wasn't Jack…
It couldn't be.
The memories came unbidden to her, of all the times this silver-haired boy had given her a sad face at her tears and desperately tried to make her laugh through them, of all the times he'd caught her from falling and steadied her on her feet, of all the times he'd let her sit in his lap criss-cross applesauce as she learned to read her very first books. Jack Frost, the boy who was a distant friend, who came to visit as often as he could, always with a smile on his face and a joke or prank in mind. The only boy outside of her immediate family whom she could trust. Silly, playful boy who was full of life and light and laughter and fun. Who was kind and understanding like the other kids weren't.
Her stomach twisted like she needed to puke.
Because never would, never could this Jack that was like another brother, whom she grew up with, a boy she'd known her whole life—as long as her mother or Jamie—never could he betray her like this.
Her mind rebelled at the very idea of Jack's possible treachery. It shut down, blocking out the hurt, drowning itself in denial.
It left her feeling hollow, knowing she was lying to herself.
Jack was a traitor, and his next words would only serve to further prove the indisputable fact of it.
"Alright, don't make any sudden moves or your sister gets frozen like a permanent human-popsicle. Understood? I need to talk to you about a few things, kid."
Jamie gulped, visibly shaken at this unanticipated turn of events. Sophie couldn't say she blamed him. It was a tough pill to swallow, seeing your best friend holding your sister hostage.
However, the man soon recovered. His eyes narrowed dangerously at Jack in what Sophie knew was the look he used to give bullies at school that instantly told them to back off before I throttle you. His feet otherwise remained rooted to the ground in cooperation as he soundlessly willed Jack to explain himself.
Jack chuckled as he took in Jamie's demeanor. "See, here's the deal," he said, finally deeming it satisfying to take up his talk once more. "I need you to release me of my Guardian's Oath, Jamie."
Jamie looked in bewilderment at Jack. "What?"
"Oh, Jamie, Jamie," Jack scoffed, shaking his head. Sophie and Jamie simultaneously tensed as Jack let his hand fall on Sophie's head, however relaxed as he merely tenderly ruffled her choppy blonde hair. "Silly Jamie. You remember, right? You're my first believer. You should count yourself lucky. You have the honor of releasing me. See, it goes like this—the only ones who can take away my Guardianship are the other Guardians themselves. But tried that road," Jack amended, looking down at his fingernails with disinterest before polishing them on his sweatshirt and peering back up at Jamie. "Didn't really turn out. I did try to persuade them, oh, trust me, did I try to persuade them. But try as I might, they didn't seem to really see my side of things. There's another way, though. And that way involves you, Jamie.
"I need you to renounce my oath willingly. Of free choice, that sort of thing. So what do you say, kid? Will you do it?"
Jamie's brow was furrowed, his brown eyes seeming to chase an idea around in his head, trying to catch it without much success. His lips were pursed in a frown as he glared at his used-to-be friend and mentor. "And what if I say no?"
Jack's grin only seemed to grow wider—and more deranged. His golden eyes glowed with a crazed light that sparked across the room and straight to Jamie's core.
"Then, I'll just have to deep-freeze your sister," he said pleasantly. At Jamie's look, Jack pressed on. "Is that what you want, Jamie? For your sister to die, all because you couldn't make a simple decision? What kind of a pathetic older brother are you?"
"Why are you doing this? What happened to you, Jack?! This isn't you!" Jamie begged his former idol and hero. He was frantic for a logical answer that would let him explain away all of the indefensible things Jack had done thus far. He wanted an excuse to forgive his childhood friend.
Black laughter peeled from Jack's white lips. "You're right, Jamie. This is the new me," Jack said soberly. "And the new me works with Pitch now. He offers power and a place to rule by his side when this world is fully taken over and the Guardians are overthrown. I can achieve this by getting rid of that useless Guardianship that only keeps me from my untapped potential. By getting rid of my oath, you are releasing me and unleashing a whole new power, one never seen by the likes of this world before. And I need you to do it.
"But like I said, it needs to be of your own free choice. I'll give you time to think on it." Jack pulled back from Sophie, releasing her. "For now, you're free to go."
The girl took a step forward, ready to sprint into her brother's arms. But a hand closed around her bicep and yanked her back.
"Oh, and one gift before I go," Jack said, sliding his hand down to her own palm and bringing her hand to his face. He kissed her left ring finger tenderly before letting go.
At first, nothing happened. Then Sophie screamed out in agony and collapsed to the ground, clutching her hand to her chest in pain as a thin layer of crystalline black ice encased her finger.
Jamie ran to her, his gaze smoldering with loathing and mistrust as he addressed Jack. "You said you'd leave her alone!"
Jack licked his index finger and held it up like a schoolteacher. "No, my dear Jamie, I said you were free to go. I never said anything about hurting anyone. You've forced my hand, and now I force yours. By the end of the week, my ice will reach Sophie's heart and stop it, instantly killing her. No amount of heat will melt it without bringing harm to her. Bring me your answer by the end of the week, or she dies. You'll find me wherever Pitch is." He paused, seeming to contemplate something. He directed his attention to Sophie, who was curled up in a ball on the floor, sparsely shielded by her brother's arms. Jack smirked. "Interesting, isn't it, how they say that the ring finger holds the only blood vessel that leads to a direct path to your heart? Oddly fitting, I think."
The winter spirit turned, spinning on his heel to jump up on the windowsill, glancing back with a sneer painted on his washed-out face. "I anxiously await your answer."
And then he was gone.
Rise of the Guardians belongs to William Joyce, DreamWorks, and their respected affiliates.
Chapter written, revised and edited by me
Song for this chapter is Deep Down by Saosin