Disclaimer: I do not and will not ever own any of the characters of Rise of the Guardians. I do not own the plot, story, etc. I only own Emalia.

Notes: This is set in the perspective that Jack Frost took up Pitch Black's offer and ruined everything.

Warning: There is rape. Do not like it? Leave. This is a bit dark, so be prepared.

Breaking Friendship

Emalia yawned as she poured coffee into her favorite mug. Dressed in a thick black cotton sweater, black tights, and an over-sized hoodie, she was warm enough. The cold outside had gone down so rapidly this week, though, that she had no idea what to do. Getting back and forth to her part-time job had become more difficult with the roads and sidewalks getting all iced over. Even her non-slick heavy combat boots had been no good.

"Where are you?" She whispered, staring out her kitchen window with dark blue eyes that resembled the ocean. By who she meant Jack Frost, her best friend since she had been a very young child still living in the orphanage. If not for him, she might not have enjoyed her childhood. He promised to always be there as long as she believed in him.

And she had kept her part of that bargain. She could still see him now, even at the age of seventeen. No, it was going to be eighteen by midnight.

But, where was Jack? He had promised to show up and celebrate with her a day early and now all this ice and snow was appearing. Had something happen?

Sighing, she grimaced at the sight of her warm breath misting into the air like a sickness. The cold had become so powerful that her heater couldn't keep up, so she just kept it down to sixty degrees. It felt like twenty degrees in the apartment, though, so she kept on her warm clothes and sometimes slept in her boots.

Heading to her room, she sipped her coffee and took her long curls out of the bun she'd left them in after her hot shower. By then the pipes had begun to make a strange screeching noise, so she made quick work of rinsing off. That did not stop the water from icing up, frightening her. For years she'd had no fear of the cold…

Until now, that is.

Sitting in her favorite chair by the window, she stared out at the city and noticed something odd. There were dark patches in the distance where lights normally occupied the spaces. Staring for a long moment, she tried to play it off as her imagination. Another patch went dark, though. Standing back up, she set her cup of coffee down at her bedside table and went to her window, unlatching the locks and forcing it open. Leaning out, she saw more and more lights going out.

"What's going on?" She whispered.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Gasping, Emalia felt arms wrap around her and pull her back into the apartment she occupied. The window seemed to slam shut all on its own, but she could see the snow flurry that dusted its glass and frame, freezing it into place. The arms twisted her around, almost tearing her hoodie in the process, forcing her to face the familiar frame of her old friend – of Jack Frost.

"Jack," She breathed as his hands settled on her hips. "When did you get here?" Discomfort ate at her. He never touched her like this, never wrapped her in his arms the way he had just seconds ago. Why did he have his hands on her hips anyway?

"Just now," He answered with a smirk. Something seemed off about him to the petite brunette. The air around him was much too cold for her taste, colder than it normally was. In fact, his wardrobe seemed darker. It was still his usual pants and hoodie, but in darker shades. Even his hair seemed to have some black in it.

"Where…where have you been?" She forced the words out and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. His hands released her, but the cold feeling where his hands had been stayed. She touched where they had been to feel frostbite on her tights. "It's gotten so cold lately that I thought something, you know, happened."

He shrugged. "Something did."

"Where's your staff?"

"Where it needs to be," He answered as he took a step toward her. The way Jack was acting made Emalia nervous and she realized he almost seemed to loom over her. He was slightly taller, more masculine, and the air of danger around him made her want to run. She kept moving away, but that only ended with her back against the wall.

Jack easily trapped her in place. "You'll be eighteen in a few minutes," He explained as a hand took a lock of her long curls and twisted it around one of his fingers. "I thought I could…do something special. I've waited all your life for this day, after all."

"What are you talking about?" Emalia asked as she jerked her hair free. It was already frozen and refusing to thaw.

"I haven't missed all the stares or the little conversations you have with your friends, Em." Jack seemed to snarl out the words, his voice becoming possessive when he said her nickname. "You've wanted things, even asked your friends about them."

"Stop…" She whispered. "What's gotten into you? What happened? Why is this cold so…strong?" Her lamp flickered and she glanced toward her window. It was completely dark outside.

The lights flickered once more before dying.

"I found my true purpose, Em." Jack explained as he set his hands upon her hips again, fingers rubbing along the fabric. "I'm a lot stronger now. I don't even need the staff to fuel my power anymore." He leaned toward the short young woman, a hand slowly snaking up under her hoodie, under her sweater. The touch of his fingers was chill inducing, sending shudders along her entire body.

Jerking to the side, Emalia stumbled into her bedside table where the coffee mug was. It fell to the wooden floor, shattering as she twisted around the table and made her way toward the door at a rush. Jack jumped in front of her, slamming the door shut as he landed, his eyes dark and angry toward her. "Bad girl," He stated through a growl. Those normally blue eyes flashed yellow, his hair darkening further.

What's going on?!

Stepping back, Emalia stared in shock at the sight of the man she had known all her life. Eighteen years of being his friend had never prepared her for him to come here like this. "What are you doing, Jack?" She rasped, glancing around for a way out of the situation. What could she do? He had frozen her window shut and he was blocking her path to the door.

"What am I doing?" He asked, following her. "I'm doing what I want to the woman I want."

Oceanic eyes widening, she bolted for the window, grabbing her chair on the way, and began to sling it at the glass. Hands as cold as ice grasped onto her arms before she could swing and gripped tightly. The cold and pain made her cry out as the chair fell from her grasp, banging to the floor. Her heart pounded loudly as she tried to comprehend her situation – the cold.

Why was Jack Frost, her best friend for years, doing this to her? Did he hate her now?

Her back was suddenly on the bed and panic started to hit her like a truck. Gasping, she twisted and crawled, only for him climb atop her and grab her arms. Jack's cold touch shocked her body into obeying him and he easily got her onto her back, forcing her legs apart. "Stop fighting, Emalia." He ordered in a smooth voice. "It'll hurt less…"

Hurt less? She thought about that comment as he began to slip off her hoodie. She tried to push his arms away, push him away, to no avail. He easily got the fabric off of her slim body, tossing it to the floor. It was already frozen in a heap as fresh ice began to eat at it on the floor.

"Jack…" She breathed out his name as he kissed along her neck, hands slipping beneath her dark sweater. "Why? I…I don't want this…It's so…ah!" A hand grasped onto her left breast. The cold of his touch was both pleasurable and painful. She had indeed wanted him for a few years now, but she didn't want it like this. Having him making love to her had always been a dream, but he wasn't being gentle or sweet like the Jack she knew. This was different, rough, and cruel.

"Hush," He cooed and slipped her sweater off. "I'm happy to know you're not in a bra for me…" Dropping her sweater to the floor, he leaned down over her and kissed along her neck again, making his way to her chest. Each kiss left a cold spike of pain and pleasure mixed together. His hands slid along her stomach and sides, making their way down to her hips where he touched the hem of her dark tights. Slowly curling his fingers under the fabric he began to pull as his lips took one of her pink nipples. The cold was excruciatingly painful and she cried out, thrashing and twisting as a new wave of panic hit her.

Emalia shoved at his face, kicked at him, yelled, and tried to crawl away. This seemed to only infuriate the dark male, his hair already pitch black. A growl of anger passed his bared teeth as he glared at her with bright yellow eyes. His hands grasped at her shoes, forcing them off. Tossing those, he went for her tights, literally ripping the fabric as he got them off her legs and feet. She cried out when he went for her panties, trying to kick his hands away, only for him to grasp her wrists.

Forcing her to lie down again, he pinned her wrists against the wall the head of her bed was against. Crossing her wrists in place, Jack made ice wrap and twist around her thin wrists until they were locked into place. No matter how much she cried out and begged, he didn't relieve her of the pain it was causing her. A sick part of him, the part that had come inside with the darkness of Pitch's power, enjoyed her pain.

"So pretty…" He whispered as pulled her panties down her legs and slipped them off, along with her socks. She was bare before him, pale skin and all. Her lips were already turning a visible blue tint, but it didn't matter to him. What mattered was between her legs…

Ocean blue eyes gazed up at him as the tears started to spill down her cheeks. His hands were already touching along her inner thighs, inching closer to her center. She tried to close her legs, but he used his own body to stop her.

When had he gotten naked? Her gaze caught sight of his erection and she felt more fear than needed. His size was more than she had expected.

She knew it was going to hurt…

A finger slid along her vaginal lips. She gasped and jerked in both pain and pleasure as he kept repeating the action, watching her every move. Licking his lips, he rubbed his thumb along her clit, eliciting more gasps and a few cries. Her voice was intoxicating him, creating a sickening pleasure that almost disgusted his darkened mind. Sliding a finger inside, he hummed at her moan of pain. Yes, he wanted to hear more.

Pulling his hand away he climbed atop her, positioning himself and kept his eyes on her face, on the pain. Sliding himself into her, he cringed at the scream that erupted from her throat. This only fueled him to push into her fully, ripping that virgin hymen, until she sheathed his entire length. The tightness of her core was amazing, even if it was at her expense. He did not care much for the blood that was already trying to ooze out, though.

As Emalia's legs pressed against his sides, she shut her eyes. The pain was white hot and horrible, cold coursing through her body. She could already feel the blood flow slowing within her, heart beat having a hard time keeping up with all the shock and pain. Her breathing was ragged and slow, turning into tiny gasps that weren't enough to fill her lungs.

Not like this! Her mind screamed as he pulled out and thrust back in so roughly she worried she would split in half. The world was spinning as she let her eyes open and veer toward the window. The moon was shining bright against all the darkness tonight.

Her heartbeat was getting slower and slower with each of Jack's thrusts into her core. Legs going limp, but unable to move, she had no choice but to endure the pain the cold induced. She was vaguely aware of his grunts and breaths of pleasure above her. His hands gripped her hips as he kept going.

"So tight…" He whispered into her ear. It was like salt in her wounds, but without the proper burning sensation. The tears were freezing to her cheeks and she couldn't even reach for her voice anymore. He lifted her hips slightly, pushing into her so painfully that she wished she could scream. The sensation filling her was disgusting in so many ways as well. She did not want his filth within her.

"You're dying…" A smooth voice said from beside her. "It won't matter what he leaves inside you, girl."

Turning her eyes to the side, she saw the dark man sitting in her chair. He must have moved it upon entering the room and sat beside the bed, watching them.

Sickening…She thought and tried to move, but her body wouldn't listen to her brain.

Jack pulled away from her, getting his clothes on and refusing to look at her now. His staff materialized into his hands and he went toward the window where the dark figure of a man stopped him.

"No, Jack Frost," He chuckled, setting a hand onto the younger male's shoulder. "Look to what you've done and take pleasure in it."

Those yellow eyes fell upon her, slid up along her frozen body toward her face, where she met his gaze. Oceanic orbs were narrowed with both shame and anger. Her breathing was too soft and ragged to even be called breathing at this point. She had just lost her best friend and her purpose for living, so what was it? What was keeping her alive? Could it be that last little flicker of hope deep within her soul?

"Come, Jack," The older male said and seemed to fly out the window.

With one last look at her, Jack shrugged and left. He left her like that, frozen to her bed as her heart beat let out one last pulse and flat lined. The last breath that escaped her was hot and smoky, floating toward the window where it rose toward the sky – toward the moon.

It wasn't until hours later, a hand, charred and black as coal, reached out of the window of the apartment, flames following it.

Okay, so that is that...

I ended this one-shot the way I did for a possible story I'm contemplating writing later. Let me know if you would like to see a story develop from this dark little one-shot.

If not, I'll be fine leaving it to your imaginations...