Hello mortals! Yes, the great Mystichawk had written another fanfiction story centered around Pitch Black, the Nightmare King.

Since my other story kind of portrays him as a good guy, I thought it might be cool to try and show the painfully bad side of him. Make no mistake, there may indeed be humor in this one, but it's more than likely gonna have a bunch of drama and hurt/comfort stuff. If you want massive amounts of fluff and humor, go visit my other stories: Season's Greetings Jack Frost and The Boogeyman Tries To Understand Fanfiction.

Anyway, this story takes place several years after Pitch's defeat at the hands of the guardians.

Enjoy.

Burgess Morgue. . .

"Hi Andy. How's it going?" Muriel asked, stepping through the double-hinged doors of the Burgess Morgue.

"Fine." Said Andy. "Lola is filing the divorce papers and I'm happy to let her do it!" Andy shrugged off his coat, hung it on the peg above his name and began to unbutton his jacket. "What have we got today?" He asked.

Muriel tied her medical apron around her neck and glanced at the clipboard tied to her desk. "Oh. Bad news. We've got a young one this time."

Andy stopped washing his hands at the small sink and looked up. His mouth was a grim slash. He hated it when young ones came in. Young people shouldn't have to die before they're even ready. No one, he reflected, should have to die before they're ready. But that was the problem with death: It seemed to crop everywhere, with the most unlikely people. And especially children.

"How old?" He asked, trying to hide his sadness behind a mask of indifference. It didn't help to cry over something if it wouldn't come back.

Muriel consulted the clipboard and gave a small sigh. "Eight years old. Poor thing. Little girl by the name of Illana Morgan."

Andy dried his hands off with a white towel and slipped on his regulation white coat and rubber gloves. "Cause of death?" He asked, trying to sound monotone.

"Heart failure." Muriel said. "Little girl just got out of the hospital from having heart surgery and apparently it didn't take." She sighed and zipped the body-bag open carefully. "Nothing unusual on the report. How's you- Whoa!" She said, cutting herself off in mid sentence.

Muriel Lailynsgate and Andy Wilhelm had been working together in the Morgue for fifteen-odd years, Andy was actually going to replace Muriel when she retired, so they knew each other quite well. Andy knew Muriel's favorite baseball team, favorite song, and he'd been to her house dozens of times. He also knew that Muriel had never, not once in all the time he'd been working with her, said whoa after unzipping a body-bag. Something must've been seriously wrong with the body.

Andy came over to her side, just fishing tying on his protective mask. He was wondering what had made Muriel break her shell of indifference that was necessary on a job like this to let out her whoa.

"Whats wro- Whoa!" He said as he came around and got his first look at the body, his Whoa exactly mimicking Muriel.

Muriel looked up at him. "I've never seen anything like this!" She said, amazed. She reached down to touch the face of the poor little girl but Andy grabbed her hand.

"No, Muriel. I know it's amazing, but we have to do our jobs so the family can put their little girl to rest." He said, trying not to keep looking at the strange phenomenon.

Muriel blinked, then she remembered where she was and pulled herself together. "Of course. I'm sorry." She said and went back to her clipboard. "Report didn't mention this." She muttered as she flipped through the pages. "How do you suppose she got it like that?" She asked Andy, who was in the back room fetching the instruments necessary for the undertaking.

"I have no idea." Andy called from the back room. "Dye, maybe?"

Muriel scoffed. "No. Dye doesn't do that. You saw the expression on her face."

Andy came back, wheeling a cart full of shiny metal utensils. "I did, but what does that have to do with it?"

Muriel glanced back at the body-bag and grimaced. "It means she didn't die naturally. Heart attack won't do that to a person. Even a child!"

Andy looked at her cynically. "Well, we're the coroners. We'll decide how she died, won't we?"

Muriel sighed again and began to unzip the rest of the body-bag. "It's so sad when you see a young one." She said quietly to herself.

Andy came over and patted her shoulder. "It's alright, Muriel. She's gone to a better place." That was the only thing he could think of to say.

Muriel sniffed and said, "Yes, and now it's our job to make sure what remains of her here stays here." She blinked back a few rebellious tears and began the process of removing the poor child's organs and fluids.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

Several hours later, they'd found nothing to suggest any other type of death than a heart attack. Muriel was quite agitated.

"Well, I guess that's that. Now she's almost ready for burial." She said, sighing once again. Normally she was quite a determined woman. Able to push through her job easily without stopping to cry or mourn, but it was deaths like these that showed Andy what she really was. A sad human being, just like him.

"Yes. She's almost ready." Andy said. He looked at the little girl's face once more and said, "Muriel, do you think they'd mind if we. . ." He trailed off, unsure if the idea would seem inappropriate to her.

Muriel looked up and asked, "What?"

Andy glanced back at the body. He couldn't say it. "If I- you know," He said, moving his hands over her face.

Muriel saw what he meant and nodded. "I think they'd be grateful, Andy. Go ahead."

Andy smiled, reassured that he wasn't doing something wrong and reached with both hands gently into the bag. He moved them careful over the child's eyelids and closed them gently. Then he closed her mouth and tilted her lips until she was laying there peacefully, as if she were sleeping.

"Thank you." Andy said when he was done. "I just couldn't stand it. Those eyes. . ." He shivered.

Muriel nodded. "I know what you mean." She reached down and pulled the zipper of the body-bad closed gently. The last thing to go were the child's closed eyes and her simple smile. "Poor little girl." Muriel murmured one last time, and then zipped the bag closed.

Andy stored the body-bag and they both took off their gloves and masks and shrugged on their coats. "It's chilly out." Muriel commented.

Andy nodded. "Yes, it is. Looks like Jack Frost has come into town again."

Muriel stopped and frowned. "Who?"

Andy smiled. "Just something my nephew keeps talking about. I've brought him over before, haven't I? Jamie Bennett." Andy wrapped a black scarf around his neck and pulled on his favorite black baseball cap. "Him and his little sister Sophie were staying at my house last week."

Muriel buttoned up her thick woolen blouse and nodded. "Oh yes, I remember. Little boy, eleven years old?"

Andy nodded. "He'll be twelve next month! He says he wants to have the party at my house, and that the Easter Bunny, Santa Clause, the Tooth fairy, Sandman and Jack Frost are all going to be there. He says they've never missed a birthday party of his yet. What an imagination."

Mureil raised an eyebrow. "The Tooth Fairy? Huh. He certainly does."

Andy and Muriel then began to lock up. The process took several minutes and all the while Andy talked about his nephew's strange story.

"He told me that two Easters ago, the Bogeyman tried to take control of the world using Nightmares, which, apparently are giant black horses made out of sand, but he was stopped by a small group of fairytale characters called Guardians."

Muriel raised an eyebrow. "Guardians?"

Andy shrugged. "That's what he says. He also says that the Boogeyman is named Pitch Black and that Jack Frost gave him a wild sled ride on a snow day."

Mureil smiled as she inserted the last key. The lock clicked and Mureil slipped the key back into her pocket. "Well, your nephew certainly has quite the imagination." She said as they pushed through the double doors and out onto the cold street.

"Yes he does." Andy agreed. "I've told him that he should write a book about it. But he said no. He thinks that writing is for girls." He laughed. "Maybe Sophie could write it, when she gets older."

Mureil sighed. Andy was so lucky to have children still around him. Except for dead ones. All her children and grandchildren had moved far away to Hawaii or Florida, or some such place. She had no one in the small town of Burgess. No one except her co-worker. That was sad.

After a few more steps Andy started up again about his nephew's strange story. "He says that the Tooth Fairy is half hummingbird with violet eyes and rainbow feathers, and that the Boogeyman is tall and wears a black robe. Honestly, how does he come up with these things?"

Muriel shrugged. It all sounded a bit too fantastical to her.

"Oh, and get this," Andy said, trying not to laugh. "He says the Easter Bunny is six feet tall with blueish-grey fur, an Australian accent and a pair of wooden boomerangs! Can you imagine that?!" He laughed. "That's be like Thumper plus Hugh Jackman plus Crocodile Dundee!"

Muriel had to crack a smile at that. "Yes, that would be a sight."

"Oh, and that isn't even the best part!" He said, jumping out of the way to avoid bonking his head on a lamp post. "He told me that the Easter Bunny's name is E. Aster Bunnymund, Santa Clause is called North, and he has a Russian accent and used twin swords, and the Sandman's name is- get this: Sanderson ManSnoozie. Isn't that original?"

Muriel laughed. "Well, he's at least using decent names for them. Mund means the world, and his first name is Easter. He's a smart child." She said.

"Yes, he is." Andy agreed again. "I really hope he remembers this stuff when he'd older, though. Adults seem to kind of. . . forget magic and things like that."

"You haven't," Muriel pointed out.

"Oh no, I don't really believe in that stuff," He said. "I just think it's good that the children do. They should be innocent and blissfully aware of things like that for as long as possible, you know."

Mureil nodded. They were coming up on her street now. "Have a good night, Andrew." She said and turned to head up her street.

"Muriel, wait a moment!" Andy called.

Muriel stopped a few feet away from her street sign and asked, "What?"

Andy jogged over to her and said quietly, "You said something back in the morgue. Something about that little girl's death not being natural. What did you mean?"

It had been bothering both of them since they'd zipped the child's body up and stored it. Andy was wondering if it might have something to do with the unusual phenomenon.

Muriel was worried that, is she told him, he would have nightmares. "Well, I was thinking that- No, it's silly."

She said and she was about to turn away when Andy put his hand on her shoulder and said gently, "Muriel, it's OK. You can tell me."

Muriel looked back at him sadly. "Well, if you really want to know. . ."

Andy nodded.

"The fact that she dies of a heart attack, the strange hair, the expression on her face. . . It all adds up to one thing in my book." Muriel looked Andy straight in the eyes and said simply, "She was scared to death."