"Dinner time little man." Hans's older brother, Arlo, spoke as he tossed a plate of unappetizing supper into the jail cell where Hans called home now. It's leaking pipes and cold unsettling draft in between the lazily lain bricks had a certain familiarity to him now.

"What's the matter Hans? Huh? Aw, are you still upset that you're not the king to your own little kingdom?" Dewitt, another of Hans's brothers, spoke beside Arlo.

Dewitt leaned in close to the bars and stared Hans deep in the eyes.

"All hail King Viktor of the Southern Isles." He said with a smirk on his face, and left with Arlo and their dark laughter left a cloud of silence behind them.

Hans sat on the wooden bench with his hands draped across his lap and his head hung low. He stared into the darkness. Hatred brewed deep within his heart, hatred for his brothers, hatred for Queen Elsa, hatred for Anna for destroying everything he worked so hard to obtain. His eldest brother Viktor was to be crowned King of the Southern Isles in two short weeks. Hans clenched his teeth so tightly they felt they might crack.

The bricks leaked water from the pipes above the cells. Up above him, Hans's brothers celebrated with wine and danced with the girls in the castle and laughed about his failure.

He clenched his hands into fists and let out a grunt.

"There is so much darkness in your heart." A slithery voice let out.

"What?! Who's there?" Hans called out standing tall, waiting to assault the mysterious voice's origin.

"Show yourself!" Hans's teeth clenched even more tightly as a bead of sweat reached his brow. He turned in circles searching the other cells. His eyes darting left and right uselessly as the dungeon was black as night.

"Your heart," A tall dark man emerged from the darkness of the cells, "It's filled with darkness and hatred. It's practically… Invigorating." The man spoke with a wicked smile spreading from ear to ear. He glided to the front of the jail cell where the moonlight shone through a single barred window near the ceiling. Hans backed himself far against the wall.

"Who-Who are you?" Hans asked with a tremor in his voice.

Hans gasped as the moonlight revealed that the man had no eyes. They were hollow but still full of expression and his teeth looked dark with rot. Hans felt the fear creeping up deep within him.

"Oh me? Well I have a lot of names really. The boogey man. Darkness. But my personal favorite?" The man snickered under his breath and stared straight into Hans's eyes. He walked up to the cell and placed his long bony fingers on the bars, sending black shadows across the cell.

"Why you can call me, Pitch Black."