This...is pretty much my first fanfic ever. And it feels odd writing it. I love reading the fanfiction of others, but I've never been able to wrap my head around it myself. As I had the need to write something and really enjoyed The Rise of the Guardians, I thought I'd give it a shot. You can be as harsh as you like, really. Not that I want people to be. I'm just posting it really in case anyone wanted something a bit darker to read. As of yet, there is nothing overly explicit, though the story as a whole has darker tones that will hopefully be resolved as I write. I don't intend for this to be a long story, but we'll see how much inspiration I get.
Nightmares. They shouldn't have had such a powerful hold over me. But I'd been suffering in darkness for years. Literally. I'd been counting. Sure, every so often I'd be allowed topside. They were rewards, mostly. And honestly, I think he just didn't want me to die of the deficiencies associated with a lack of sunlight. Yes, I'm seventeen and I know what deficiency means. I'm not a child. Not anymore.
Once upon a time, I believed in the Guardians. With all my heart, I argued furiously with any who would dare deny their existence. It had always felt like a personal insult to my intelligence when others refused to believe. For adults not to believe, well, that seemed natural to me even as a child. The older people got, the harder it was for them to see. At least in my youthful logic, it was why grandma needed those large bifocals and a hearing aid. If you couldn't see the Guardians, why would you hear them either? That level of thinking seems foolish to me now. In fact, a great many things seem foolish to me now.
Of my friends, I was the fearless one. At hardly more than twelve, I was willing to take on the older kids who would bully the others no matter how much bigger they were than me. It hadn't mattered what size they were or how comparably tiny I was. I knew right from wrong and I wasn't going to let them be wrong. I didn't understand bravery. Not until a little later. To be brave, it takes fear, of which I had none.
Pitch changed that.
Even in his weakened state – he refused to admit the Guardians were responsible – he hated to see the fearlessness in me. He'd told me multiple times. He'd sent nightmares at first. Dark, scary thoughts with creatures that go bump in the night. I'd felt anxiety for the first few moments after waking, but soon comforted myself with a hug from my stuffed wolf. He was a loyal companion and would protect me always! At least that was my thought.
They nightmares continued. Plagued me. Still, I refused to bend to them. Perhaps it was stubbornness. Maybe it was something else. I can't know for sure anymore. What I do know was that I frustrated the wrong creature. The Boogeyman doesn't take kindly to being explained away as a bad dream. He didn't take kindly to me at all.
I hadn't really realized it that night, but I'd had a Guardian's assistance. Maybe Sandman hadn't even known it himself, but when I woke from another terrifying dream, I felt tense and at the ready. My stuffed wolf was no longer just a stuffed animal in my arms. He was a snarling sandy golden canine crouched at the ready on my bed. Golden eyes stared back at me through the darkness of my room. The snarls may have been frightening to others, but they made me smile. I placed my hand on his fur, and the sand moved as realistically as if it were real fur. 'What is it?' I'd asked my wolf, smiling at the game I was inventing on the fly.
The waking dream was shattered with a harsh reality as a creature dark as night rushed at my wolf. The sound of his yelps brought out a cry from me as he was kicked from my bed with brutally sharp hooves. I'd scrambled across my bed to look on the other side where he'd fallen, only to see my stuffed wolf on the floor with the stuffing spilling out of his side gruesomely while golden sand piled around him. Tears sprung up and immediately, I tried to explain it away. He must have gotten caught on something while I slept.
My explanations could only go so far when I heard a chilling voice behind me. Even in the dark of my room, his pale skin stood out. It had a blue cast to it, as if deprived of oxygen and light for too long. Those yellow eyes couldn't have seemed farther from the shade of amber my wolf's eyes had been. They were cold, harsh. Beside him, the dark creature snorted and let out a furious whinny that sent me tumbling off my bed in alarm, my limbs tangling in the sheets. I felt my wolf beneath me and felt my belly tremble in response. I was too tough a girl to cry just yet. My wolf could be mended; I wanted to be a veterinarian when I grew up, so I knew I could sew him up!
As I lifted my head to look back at these creatures of darkness in my room, I found myself fascinated by the horse. A nightmare, I'd heard him coo as if it were a child. Animals had always been my favorite and science as well. Surrounded by books galore, I couldn't comprehend just what I was seeing. To me, animals had never been evil. Not a single one. They were all that was innocent, even when they were hurting others. To them, it was survival. At such a young age, I understood that. Admired it. But this creature, this nightmare was not like any animal I'd ever seen. It harbored the same cruelty in its eyes that I saw in his.
'Alice,' he'd said. His voice had almost been gentle then. As if he hadn't wanted to frighten me too much. 'Do you know who I am?'
Denial had been on the tip of my tongue before I thought on it. I realized I did know who this was. Who else would hide in the shadows and plague children's dreams with nightmares? The irony of what the creature at his side was hadn't been lost on me. 'You're the Boogeyman,' I'd answered, my voice not quite as still as I would have liked.
'Good!' he'd praised. 'That saves me the trouble of introducing myself!' His eyes had glowed brighter, as if truly pleased. I started to stand, tense in my crescent moon pajamas as if I could do anything to this man. 'You've caused me quite a bit of disappointment, Alice. It's something I think we need to address. I've some lessons for you. But not to worry. We'll keep practicing until you've perfected them.'
I hadn't understood what he meant. At the time, it wasn't something meant to be understood, I suppose. Any chance I'd had of breaking away from this beast had been spirited away the moment the dark horse rushed for me. An overwhelming sense of pain had enveloped me until the darkness took over.