After over two years without submitting a story I am back. Hopefully I will get back to my previous stories but I just can't find my muse. ROTG has stolen my heart and for the past two months I have read almost every fanfic of it and have watched many AMV's and videos and seen the movie several times. It is an obsession and I couldn't contain myself any longer and had to write this. I hope you all like it and I would love to see reviews and if you have any ideas for other ROTG stories I would love to here them and if they are nice to my muse monster then with your permission I will write them. Anyway without further comment here is my story. "Just a bad dream"

I do not own ROTG, this story was written for non-profit reasons.


"Just a bad dream."

Pitch revelled in the terrified scream that escaped the sleeping child's mouth. The sound and the delicious flavour of the fear filling his senses. He inhaled deeply to consume the fear greedily. He was still weak from his recent failure. He needed this fear, this terror, needed in a way similar to an alcoholic needs their next glass of gin. He felt his wariness begin to fade as his body pulled strength from this child's fear.

He was so enthralled by the sensations of the fear feeding his starved body he didn't noticed when the child's screams awoke the parents. He was snapped out of his reverie by the child's bedroom door being thrown open. Ever wary Pitch slid to the wall and out of the way of the child's mother as she made her way to the bed. Pitch's body moved without thought, instinctively avoiding the painful emptiness that happens whenever he is stepped through.

Frowning Pitch watched as the mother wakes the now trashing child.

"Shh, Baby it's okay. I'm here. Shh." The mother tries to sooth the hysterical child. The child's eyes snap open, wide with fear and glassy from un-shed tears.

Pitch felt the fear surge as the child began to cry but couldn't fully enjoy it. He knew what would come next. In the days of his strength he would have left as soon as the child's mother came in the room. However, pulling himself away required energy that his weakened body could not spare. As it was he was forced to watch.

The child's tears began to slow as they realized that their mother was there. The mother kept murmuring calming words. A verbal reminder that she was there. The words re-enforced by her embrace. Slowly the child calmed down. Pitch felt the fear drain slowly from the room and he couldn't help the frustrated sigh that escaped his mouth.

"M-mommy!" The child sniffed between sobs. "It, It was s-so d-dark!" The child burst into fresh tears and the fear briefly rose. Pitch knew the difference though. He knew the fear was still draining from the room. He could feel the fear leaving his body as the atmosphere in the room changed.

"Shh. Honey." The mother consoled. "It was just a bad dream." Pitch's frustration spiked and he was able to tear himself from his silent vigil.

"No!" He roared as he stalked toward the embracing pair. "It was not just a dream! It was me!"

Neither mother nor child acknowledged him.

"I'll get you a glass of milk and a cookie, does that sound good?" The mother asked as she bundled the child into her arms and stood.

Desperate now the nightmare king stood in front of the pair. "No, remember that darkness you just experienced! I am here! I am REAL! I am not 'just a bad dream!'" Unaware to the king of darkness the mother stepped through him taking the child's body with her. Pitch felt the gut wrenching emptiness and felt as if part of his soul was painfully ripped from himself. Silent now Pitch slowly turned to watch the pair leave the room. The child giggled as the mother tickled them and exited the room.

"From terrified believer to giggling happiness in minutes." Pitch muddered as dejectedly he turned from the door and let the darkness slowly swallow his form.

Now outside Pitch strolled down the road. The spring air was moved by a gentle warm breeze that held the promise of summer. Overhead he could see the golden sand stream over the town and flow into the windows of sleeping children. Feeling melon-colic Pitch turned from these houses deciding to leave them be for the night. Glaring at the ground Pitch walked aimlessly trying to lose himself in time.

Anger. Loneliness. Depression. He felt these feeling dog his steps and stab at his mind, Digging into his mind and bringing up thoughts and memories he would rather remained buried deep in his mind. After a time Pitch could feel the approach of dawn and he decided to call it a night. Fading into the shadows Pitch felt a tingle on the back of his neck warning him that he was being watched. Turning he could see a golden man sitting on a sand cloud watching him with a mixture of wariness and pity. Briefly he wonder exactly how long Sanderson was watching him.

Glaring Pitch gave a mock salute and turned his back on the guardian and let the darkness consume him.

His body reformed in his lair and Pitch wandered aimlessly about the cavernous room. Now alone with his thoughts Pitch rethought his night.

"Just a bad dream!" He muddered to himself. He had long ago developed the habit of talking to himself to try to fill the silent emptiness that is his constant companion. "To think that woman would dare compare me to a construct of Sanderson's! As if I was nothing!" His voice rose with anger. "In the days of my strength I would have..." His voice trailed off as he was reminded he wasn't the strong terrifying King of nightmares that he used to be. Drifting into silence he felt a tug of a nightmare calling for his assistance and sighed.

"Back to work."


Sometimes I feel bad for Pitch. He went to far yes and he deserved a punishment for his actions but can you blame him for doing what he was made to do? It just seems like he just needs someone to acknowledge him. I feel like Sandy might want to but is unsure of how to go about approaching the prideful, and stubborn King of darkness. Sigh. Well please R&R it makes my little hamster very happy! :)