Hello ladies and gentlemen. Yes, I have indeed written another story. This idea came to me a while ago and my muse seized my by the throat and forced me to publish it today. This one is also about Pitch Black, as is most of my stories, but this one is a relatively new idea for me. Please read and review to tell me what you think.

Oh, and I have something to note: I don't know how often I'll be able to update. I'll say it again I... don't... know how often I can update. I have a few chapters pre-written and that'll help, but what with all my other stories, my novel and that irritating thing called life, I'll be pretty busy. I just thought I'd let this story out and see whither people liked it. I hope so. Also, I make no promises about what date I'll update. Possibly in a week, possibly three, but I will promise to update before the month is out.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this newest story. Have fun.

It had been three years since Pitch's failed take-over of the world.

Since then, none of the Guardians had seen hide nor hair of the Nightmare King.

They hadn't seen Nightmares, though Sandy had to banish a few bad dreams to make way for good ones every night, and, truth be told, they were happy with that! They all knew that if Pitch ever did come back he would have them to deal with but, for the most part, they didn't think about Pitch.

Bunny focused on bringing back Easter to the world, North had his hands full with Christmas, Jack continued with his new duties as the Guardian of Fun, and Tooth and Sandy had their daily jobs. Honestly, things were going so well that, after about a year, all of them, even Jack, actually forgot about the Boogeyman for a while.

Jack Frost was currently in Zurich, Switzerland spreading his icy magic around by drawing on the windowpane of a three-year-old and smiling as the tiny child clapped and gurgled.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Jack said, tracing the fern pattern he'd made.

The baby clapped and laughed. Her voice, though dulled by the glass between them, was musicale and sweet to his ears.

Jack smiled fondly down at the infant. She was happy. He'd made her happy.

Jack knew that he should be going soon. There were plenty of other places that he needed to visit before dawn broke, so he waved goodbye to the gurgling infant and flew up onto the roof of her house, then he executed a perfect leap and let out a whoop of joy as the wind caught him and flung him up into the sky.

"OK, wind, next stop: Russia!" Jack said, laughing as the wind carried him up and over the mountains that harbored the tiny village below from snow-storms. He flew through the air, sending a small blanket of snow over everywhere he passed and laughing at how wonderful his life was.

He had a home at Santoff Clausen, a family, and more believers than he'd even hoped to obtain. Jack flew over a silent slumbering town and sighed, thinking about how content he was. Content to just fly around, bringing fun to children all over the world. Content being a Guardian.

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He arrived in Burgess several hours later, after covering Russia, Wales, London and Ireland in a blanket of snow and painting every child's windowpane with a beautiful frosty picture. He loved his work so much. Seeing the joy on each child's face and the bright happiness that twinkled in their eyes. It was something few people could really see the value of. Joy, happiness, and fun.

Jack alighted down on the street, tired of flying. The north wind was in a foul mood today and he'd been a bit more buffeted than usual when he'd flown with it. Jack walked through the silent streets of Burgess, completely and utterly content. There was nothing else for him to do! He'd covered every area able to have snow in deep drifts, spread his merry fun around the entire globe, (except for across the equator,) and for the first time in his entire immortal life, he had free time.

"I might as well head back to Santoff Clausen." he said. It was night and North and Tooth didn't like him staying out too late.

The big Cossack and the fairy-woman had taken it upon themselves to act as surrogate parents for Jack. Even though he was immortal and he wasn't as stupid as he'd been, he still did some bone-headed things once in a while and then Tooth and North had to have a short talk with him. Most of the time though, it was OK. Tooth came by when she wasn't too busy to check his teeth were still in glimmer-white pristine condition and to scold North whenever she saw him eating cookies.

"All those sugar-disks are is a sure way to a heart attack!" she'd said the last time she and North had gotten into a fight about the cookies.

North had simply folded his arms. "Toothy, I am Santa Clause! It is part of tradition for me to eat cookies!"

Tooth snorted. "You don't see Jack walking around with a corn-cob pipe and a button nose, do you North? And you don't see Bunny with pink fur and a ribbon tied around his neck? We are about as far from tradition as it is likely to get!"

Jack had to agree with that. "She's kinda right North, you could stand to lose a few pounds. Remind me to get you a treadmill this Christmas."

North had looked puzzled. "Vhat is treadmill?" he asked.

Jack shrugged. "Some exercise thing. I saw one on Jamie's T.V. And by the way Tooth," he'd said, turning to the annoyed fairy-woman. "Why on earth would I have a corn-con pipe? I'm only three hundred years old! And I don't smoke!"

Tooth looked down her nose at him. "You'd better not. Tobacco stains your teeth something awful!"

Jack smiled. "Sometimes I think she cares more about my chompers than about me." he said, turning down another street he didn't know. Jack had walked all through Burgess a hundred times and he still didn't know every street.

This one was narrow, the perfect space for someone to get mugged. There were no doors or gates. Just a long narrow alleyway that led somewhere he didn't know. But Jack wasn't worried. He'd just fly away if there was trouble, but he doubted there would be. Since their defeat of that fear spirit, what was his name? Patch? Well, since they defeated him thing has been pretty quiet. No other spirits were strong enough to oppose the Guardians and none wanted to risk it. He himself had fifty times the believers he had before. Thousands of children, all over the globe, believed in him. They believed in the Guardians and nothing was ever going to stop that.

Jack heard a noise behind him. He stopped, right as he was about to turn a corner, and listened. His senses had always been sharp, but after ten weeks of training with Bunnymund in the various martial arts and learning Quarterstaff with North, his senses had pretty much been honed sensitive enough to hear a spider clicking its fangs a few miles away.

The sound was soft, almost inaudible, and reminded him of the footsteps of a young child. But he had a sneaking suspicion that was what it wanted him to think. He thought it sounded about a couple of feet away and he didn't turn around, afraid it might spook whatever it was. The thing began to make another noise, louder and most distinct this time. Snorting.

Jack swirled around, holding his staff in one hand. The other hand held a sharp ice-dagger that he'd made a few months ago, when he'd first started to learn to fight, and he raised the weapon to shoulder-level, outstretched and threatening.

Before him was the oddest creature he'd ever seen. Its skin looked like a rippling layer of black sand. Mixed into the black were shades of shimmering silver, blue, violet and a tinge of deep magenta. Its head and body resembled that of a huge horse, like bigger than a Clydesdale! Its head was about two feet above his and it snorted at him, glaring at him with bright yellow eyes. Human eyes.

In those eyes he saw a feverish desire, one that he could remember seeing in another animal like this one, but the creature advanced on him and the image that was forming in his mind shattered when he took a fearful step back. The creature snorted and it's lips raised to show its glittering black teeth in what Jack fervently hoped wasn't a smile, but it sure looked like one.

Jack swallowed. This thing, whatever it was, wasn't going to just leave him alone.

"Look horsey, we can do this the easy way or the hard way." he said, taking another step backwards.

The horse's lips rose again and Jack had the feeling he knew what it was thinking. Fresh meat.

Jack took his chance. He didn't even stop to consider what he was doing. He just charged the creature, holding his dagger out and ready to block with his staff. The beast side-stepped and turned to face him, its golden eyes glowing with that feverish desire more brightly than ever!

"Hard way it is then," Jack said, and leaped into the air, swinging his staff down across the beast's neck. Strangely though, the creature didn't react. The staff fazed right through the horse's neck like it was water!

The horse brought up its back legs as he landed behind it, narrowly missing his head as he arched over it and landed on his feet. He took a swipe with his dagger but missed. The horse kicked with its back hooves again and missed him by a hair. Jack dove to one side and then straight up, trying to get away from the horse. He knew that horses- even creepy black-dusted horses with golden eyes, couldn't fly and he felt reasonably sure that he was safe.

Then the horse reared and, wouldn't you know it, leaped into the air and flew after him!

"This is not good." Jack muttered as he rose above the streets of Burgess, the horse hot on his bare heels. "This is really not good."

He dodged through the chimneys and smokestacks that littered the flat roofs of the buildings. The horse flew after him, neighing and snorting like a rodeo bull. Jack flew as best and as fast as he could, but the wind was still a bit temperamental and on more than one occasion he was hurled into a wall and he narrowly missed being flattened. Luckily his reaction-time was at least .25 seconds and he avoided being crushed with the agility and speed of an Olympic ice-skater. The horse was still close behind him when he flew up and landed on the roof of the tallest building in town, an apartment complex that was due several inspections from the sanitation department and a new coat of paint.

The apartment complex was very old, and Jack had been around when it had been built. Actually, Jack had been around when the land was still rich and wild, full of animals and trees. Then, over the years, he'd seen the land get bought up and bulldozed, then buildings had been put up, burned down and then built up again. It was horrible. Every time he witnessed buildings in Burgess burning down, it filled him with a deep sense of sadness in his gut. The homes of people being destroyed right before their eyes and sometimes with them in it! To make things worse, he'd actually witnessed someone being burned alive inside the very building beneath his feet. It had been horrible.

There had been a family of three living the top floor of the building, in the only livable space. The fire had been started by another idiot flicking a cigarette into a pile of dry grass. Jack had gotten there too late and the blaze was going so fiercely that he couldn't freeze it. It had started below and had burned up through the stories. The mother and the daughter had gotten out OK, but the father- who had lost a leg in the second world war, Jack learned, was too slow and he hadn't been fast enough. Jack had watched the man screaming and beating against the window, which had broken and he'd been pitched through, still alive.

Jack was shaken out of his thoughts by a very loud snort behind him. The freaky sand-horse! He whirled around and found himself staring straight into a pair of horse nostrils. They huffed and blew back his white hair. Jack stayed perfectly still. He wasn't exactly a horse expert, but he knew enough to keep very still. If he didn't, it might snap at him and he really didn't want to know what those teeth felt like.

"OK, I'm gonna step away slowly," Jack said slowly, taking one step back.

Without warning, the horse lunged towards him and Jack raised his staff automatically to defend himself, but the horse cleanly snapped his staff in two with its teeth and Jack felt himself almost keel over with the pain. It was excruciating. The pain shot through his body like a virus, eating away at him from the heart. It gnawed and bit at his body and the pain was almost intolerable. Jack staggered, holding his hand to his chest. Each movement sent pain shooting up and down his body and Jack almost passed out!

Unfortunately, Jack forgot he was on a roof and, even worse, he forgot he was on the edge of a roof. The edge of which he'd just stepped off of.

"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-" Jack screamed, then he hit the very very hard concrete and felt two ribs and maybe an arm break. But the pain of breaking bones was nothing compared to the pain of the broken staff that most likely was being stomped to bits by the Nightmarish horses! it sent an inner fire coursing through him and Jack Frost did not like fire.

Jack tried to raise his head an inch but that inch sent his bones creaking. He moaned, but he couldn't talk. It hurt too much and he suspected he'd punctured a lung. He could feel blood rushing through his veins and rushing through open wounds in his body. The paint was almost too much to bear!

And then, as if his luck couldn't get any worse, Jack heard the sound of hoof-beats and snorting. The nightmare horse was back to finish him off!

"NO!" Jack hissed. "I won't make it that easy for that creature!"

And, with an amazing amount of strength, he pushed himself up with his one good arm and then to his knees. The hoof-beats were getting louder and Jack could see it now, rearing up and crying out like a dying child. The sound sent shivers down Jack's spine and he shuddered. It was a horrifying sound, like the death of a thousand children and the screams of a thousand babies, all mixed together with the whistling of the wind, (even though it was trying to be helpful now,) and the darkness all around him.

Jack stumbled a few feet, then he realized that he wouldn't get far without his staff or at the very least, a crutch to lean on. He must've rolled an ankle when he'd fallen or sprained it. Jack summoned strength from somewhere deep inside him and created a tall, thin rod of strong ice with a flat bottom and a short bar of ice connected to the top. Jack slipped the thing under his left arm and hobbled forward. The thing was working perfectly.

Jack hobbled and hobbled, heading for Jamie's house. He would know what do to. Jamie always knew what to do.

He only got twenty feet before he heard the hoof-beats thundering behind him. When he turned around, he saw the beast standing five feet away, still as a statue, appraising him with its human golden eyes. Jack shuddered and knew that he couldn't run any more. His powers were slowly draining away and his physical strength was draining even faster. He move barely faster than a snail and he knew that, if the beast wanted to kill him, he wasn't going to put up much of a fight.

Slowly, Jack made himself turn around If the beast was going to kill him, then he was also going to go out looking his killer in the eye.

Murdered by a horse, Jack thought bitterly, staring straight into the horse's eyes. When I'm dead, Bunny's most certainly going to put that on my gravestone.

The horse took a step forward and, without warning, tossed his head towards him and Jack took an involuntary step back. Then he tripped over his own feet and stumbled back onto the concrete, landing with a sickening crack which he was sure was another rib. Jack winced and he would've moaned, but he didn't want to die groaning like a creaky staircase. The horse tossed it's head again and let out a whinny that Jack swore was laughter. Jack narrowed his eyes and glared at the beast, daring it to laugh again but it didn't.

Jack raised his unbroken arm and pushed against the ground with his crutch, trying to get up to run again, but he knew that there was no point. For one, the horse was still in front of him and it would probably bite his head off if he tried to move. For another, his strength was almost spent. With his broken ribs and arm bent there was no way he was going to out-run the creature. Even if his legs were fine, the pain of his ribs would be too much for him. He wouldn't be able to move more than a few feet! Jack sighed and then hissed as the exhale of breath caused his chest to contract. It hurt like fury and he was absolutely certain now that he had a punctured lung. Breathing was something that would soon become difficult for him, even if it wasn't really necessary.

Jack didn't move a muscle, keeping his eyes locked with the horse's. They stared at each other, eyes never-wavering, for at least ten minutes.

And then something unexpected happened. A dark shadow darted out from a corner behind the horse and launched itself at it! The shadow attacked the horse wildly, wrapping its arms around the beast's neck and the horse bucked and kicked like a whirlwind, twisting and thrashing like a demon.

Jack found himself completely frozen, wondering what kind of maniac would attack a huge horse that could kill you with one kick in the right place? Still, the shadow was swinging from the horse's neck by one hand, holding onto its mane. The horse obviously didn't like it because it let out a harsh cry and reared up, lifting the shadow up off the ground and shaking him like a dog with a toy doll!

Jack watched in horror as the shadow swung back and forth, keeping hold onto the horse only by one hand. What did he think he was accomplishing, Jack wondered, holding onto the creature's mane like that? The only thing that would stop that monster from murdering the stranger and then him was a strong set of iron chains. And even then, Jack had a feeling that the horse might be able to bite through chains. Those teeth did look rather nasty.

The shadow swung to and fro from the horse's neck as the beast bucked and kicked, rising up and coming down as fast as a roller-coaster, yet the shadow hung on. Jack was in awe and he wondered if anyone had ever hung onto a wild horse by the neck and lived? Probably not.

Suddenly the horse reared up once more and, instead of coming back down on its powerful hoofs, the creature stretched its neck out and crashed backwards onto the ground, dragging the shadow with him. For one horrible instant Jack thought that the horse had fallen on whoever the shadow was, but when the beast raised its head Jack could still see a dark arm wrapped around the shadow's neck. Jack gasped. He was still holding on? He was still alive?! How could anyone survive a fall like that?!

Jack was so enthralled by the spectacle before him that he didn't feel the pain of his ribs anymore, and his headache seemed to be disappearing also! He was captured by the awesome sight before him and all his pain just seemed to drain away as he watched the fearless shadow wrestled with the wild shadow-horse. The horse was beginning to tire, Jack could see that. Its blows were becoming half-hearted and the shrieking cries were being tones down to angry whinnies and neighs.

Suddenly the stranger lashed out with one of his fists and rapped the beast's forehead with his knuckles right between the eyes. The blow was weak enough not to really hurt the animal but it had enough force to stun the creature and make it tip drunkenly forward, then the shadow did something that Jack could not see and the beast went down with a startled cry. The shadow twisted as the horse fell, first onto it's front legs where it knelt like a man in prayer, then it keeled over to the side, bringing up a cloud of dust where it landed with a sickening *thud* and didn't move.

Jack held his breath, waiting for the shadow to rise up but it didn't. The horse didn't move and neither did anything around it. All was completely still. Jack felt a hint of worry creep into his mind. Whoever, or whatever had saved him, they were most likely dead beneath that horse. Crushed by the two-thousand pound deadweight falling on top of them. It was a horrible thing for him to imagine and Jack felt guilt begin to gnaw at his heart. Whoever that had been, they'd just been trying to stop a runaway horse, or so they thought.

In reality, the horse was obviously mystical and Jack had the very distinct sensation of déjà vu, of seeing this horse before somewhere. Where? He didn't know.

Before Jack could wonder any more, a strange voice that he'd never heard before rang out.

"Hello?" the voice said. "Is anyone there?"

It was a concerned, male voice and Jack was sure he didn't recognize it. It must be the shadow! he thought excitedly, opening his eyes and looking around. Nothing. Then he looked up and there he was! A large, dark man with a shadowy face looming over him. In his hands were a pair of sticks. For a moment Jack was afraid that the strange man was going to beat him with the sticks!

Then Jack pulled himself together, remembering times when he'd been beaten with sticks and belts and he realized that this was just an automatic reaction because of his past. He opened his eyes again and stared up at the man, trying to see past the shadows and look into the face beyond, but the shadows were too dark and he could only see a pair of green eyes glistening in darkness.

Jack stared at the man, trying to work up the energy to say something. Then, just as he was about to open his mouth and speak, something seemed to penetrate his mind and he realized that this was an adult man! Not a child! So why on earth could he see him?

Maybe he's talking to someone else, Jack thought hopefully. Then the man reached out a hand towards him and picked up his own cold hand. His touch and the movement sent another stab of pain flowing up his body. Jack winced and the man froze.

"Oh, I'm sorry." His face shifted in the shadows cast by the light of the street-lamps.

Jack tried to grin and say, "I'm alright sir," but his mouth was clamped firmly shut to keep the scream that was working it's way out of his throat down and he didn't have even the slightest bit of energy necessary to speak anyway.

"No, it's best you keep quiet." the man said, leaning back. Jack could detect a distinct accent on the man's tongue. European, most likely. British, if he wasn't mistake. "Do you have parents or a guardian to contact?"

Jack was about to shake his head, but then the strange man's choice of words penetrated his mind and he remembered! The Guardians!

He nodded vigorously, and then he groaned in pain as the movement sent a tendril of pain shooting up his neck.

"Oh dear." the man said, looking down at him. "It looks like you'll have to go the Emergency Room."

Jack blinked. Emergency Room? Then he remembered something that Jamie had told him a few years ago.

"And when I broke my collarbone on my snowboard, mom had to rush me to the ER!"

Jack frowned. "What's the ER?"

"It stands for Emergency Room." Jamie had explained. "It's the place where people with really bad injuries that can't wait in a line. They rush you to a doctor immediately and then they fix whatever problem you have."

"Isn't that what regular doctors do?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, but when you go to a regular hospital, you have to wait in usually a long line before you can see a doctor. Unless you've got some terrible disease or you're bleeding from bullet wounds." Jamie replied.

Jack would've frowned, but any more movement would have knocked him out. Instead he looked up at the shadowy man, trying to see past the darkness to his face again. He couldn't.

"What's your name, boy?" he asked.

Jack didn't move an inch, worried than if he tried to speak the pain would overwhelm him. He didn't need to go to the Emergency Room, he needed to get back to Santoff Clausen! North would be furious if he conked out for a few months without telling anyone where he was, which was the most likely scenario.

Every time Jack had taken a severe beating, he'd holed up in a hollow tree packed with snow for at least three solid months to recuperate. The last time was when Summer had picked a fight with him and he'd been melted within an inch of his life. He'd crawled, half-dead, into the tree and slept for- by his count, a year and sixty-three days.

Then again, it really had hurt a lot.

The man bent down closer and Jack could see a pale face, much like his own, and a few strands of unruly black hair hanging down over his eyes.

"Can you speak at all," the man asked. "Or are you mute?"

Jack blinked helplessly. He wanted to tell the man to just leave him in a snowdrift and that would be fine, that he'd be able to walk back to his lake later and recuperate, then go find the pieces of his staff, but he had a feeling that even if he could talk the man wouldn't do as he asked. He probably thought Jack was getting hypothermia right now from lying in the snow.

The man sighed. "Well, either you are a mute or you're in too much pain to talk. Getting trampled by a huge horse will do that to you. I know. I've done it."

Jack blinked.

"Well I'm sorry, young man, but I am afraid I shall be causing you more pain shortly. Just grit and bear it and try not to fall unconscious."

Jack's eyes widened and he tried to squirm but that sent pain rocketing up his system once again. The man noticed his discomfort and said, "Oh heavens, I'm not going to hurt you on purpose."

Jack sighed with relief, though he was still wary and the action made his lungs hurt.

"But being picked up might cause you a lot of discomfort and I was just warning you." the man finished.

Jack frowned. Being picked up?

Then, before he knew what was happening, Jack felt himself get lifted off of the ground by a pair of long, thin arms and carried bridal-style. The man was right. The pain was indescribable! Like someone was jabbing hot pokers into his sides and then rubbing salt into the open wounds.

"I am sincerely sorry about how much this hurts." the man said.

Jack tried to look into the man's face but the pain of being moved was slowly taking over his system, sending him rocketing into dream-world. All he could feel before he plunged into darkness was the man's strong arms clutching him gently and the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart, pumping blood through the wound in his ribs and into his punctured lung.