It was… Cold… Cold and dark and I couldn't do anything. It felt like my whole body was simply defying my urgent demands to move and that a knife had pierced my skull with perpetual agony and that agony bled into my conscious and my soul and it burned.

"Help… "I choked into the nothingness. I couldn't even remember how I got there. I wondered how long I had to be like this; how long I had to be like nothingness.

"Help you?" I gasped when the purr of a voice touched my ears. "With what, little pumpkin?" It continued, and I was almost elated- if I wasn't still in immense pain. I wanted to speak, but no words came out; the pain was choking me. Or something else was…

"Oh, I know! You don't want to die?" It stated matter-of-factly. I… Was dead? I died? Then, am I in hell? Wha-

"Hold on, little pumpkin, I'll help you. Just a moment!" I gasped again, slightly quieter than before but more sharply. It would help me? With what?! It was just some man's voice! And I was dead! At least, I believed I was… Who was the voice? And what were they doing in the darkness? What if he was dead too, and was just making my afterlife even more miserable? What if-

Suddenly, the tingling feeling of my body itched up my legs, waist, through my chest and to my fingertips and I watched in awe as my body suddenly materialized below me. I floated down and touched the solid flooring of… Something. All I could see was black. I collapsed to my hands and knees, gripping my head because the pain wasn't gone. The darkness lifted away like ripped ribbons and I could see that I was in some sort of old, stone cavern that had birdcages everywhere. I wanted to stand, but the pain in my head was increasing and I whimpered softly, and fell onto my side, gripping my head.

"Oh, sh, little pumpkin." A soft hand rested on my head, and I willed my eyes to look up and see a man with the look of a compassionate parent. He was tall, I could tell, even if he was squatting to be at my level. He was dressed in just black. Like, black shirt, pants, and cloak, and had a hair color to match. "Does it still hurt?" He inquired, caressing my head kindly. I nodded, letting out a slight squeak when the pain worsened. He had such a kind and welcoming voice and I wondered who he was.

"Here, then." He said softly, and he rolled me onto my back and placed a hand on my forehead. "This'll hurt for just a moment." He chimed and if I had had time to ask why, trust me, I would've tried to get away, because where his hand was, exploded into furious pain even worse than the one before. I screamed, and gripped his arm, trying to remove it, but it was like his had had become fused to my head

"Oh no, don't fight it little pumpkin. Accept it! Fear is nothing to be afraid of." He chuckled darkly, and smiled like a cat. My head felt like it was about to explode, but where his fingertips were, it felt like something was seeping in. The hateful pain that had been in my mind had been replaced with cold, hard, quivering fear and nightmares. Horrible images passed through my eyes and I screeched, not just out of pain, but ultimate horror at what was happening, and I sobbed loudly, ripping agitatedly at the man's arm. "Almost done." He purred, using his other hand to close my eyes and I fell into unconsciousness.

It was sunny at the North Pole, and it had been rather uneventful. It was two days after Christmas, and it was a good, long, relaxed day- something Mr. Claus definitely needed. It was almost three years after Pitch had tried to take over the world with his nightmares, and the Guardians met occasionally and had few problems with the demons. It was calm and nice and-

The old man spun around in his chair and away from his window, startled by the large mahogany door to the room being slammed open. A yeti stood there, eyes wide and fearful.

"What is it? Can't you see that I'm busy?" The man bellowed, his thick accent dripping with annoyance.

The yeti let out a series of frantic grunt and growls, gesturing out the door and into the hallway wildly.

"What about a child? What's happened?" The man was suddenly worried and stood, walking over to the yeti and out of his office. The yeti grabbed his hand and lead around to the other side of the globe, pointing shakily to a dot. Now, there was still a dot, so the child still believed- but it was black. Not gold, not shiny, but black and slightly smoking.

"Sweet christmas trees… What?..." The man exclaimed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Contact the other Guardians. Tell them Pitch might be back."

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Because I evidently don't have enough stuff to do on the internet. Deal with it))