Disclaimer: I do not own any of the ROTG characters.


-Prologue-

"They aren't my nightmares…" North said with a smirk.

Pitch Black looked at the fat, old man in confusion… but only for a moment. The Nightmare King's eyes darted around frantically, taking in the sheer number of the dark vestiges that had surrounded the clearing, and he suddenly felt very afraid.

He knew who's nightmares they were.

Turning to run, Pitch already knew it was a futile act as the dark horses over took him, lifting him bodily into their grasp and pulling him down… down into darkness. The Boogeyman cried out, for help… for anything that might save him from what was coming, but there would be no help for the wicked. The Nightmare King stumbled and pitched forward, struggling to remain on his feet as the swirling vortex of darkness dumped him unceremoniously to the floor. Taking a single, timid step forward into the darkness, he took a careful look at his surroundings.

He was in the Hall of Horrors, the realm of Fear and Terror… his home. Only… Pitch didn't feel very much like he was at home, and the once pleasant comforts were no longer welcoming. He could feel the darkness closing in on him, tried to pass it off as his own fear, but soon the darkness covered the floor, the walls, the globe sparkling with the dots of all the children who believed… the darkness swallowed the nightmares that pawed the ground around him… and it moved to swallow the Nightmare King as well, stopping just around the edges of his feet, forming the smallest circle of light created by a slender beam of moonlight that leaked through the roof.

Pitched looked up, for he could see nothing through this thick darkness, and he thought of the irony. The only one who would bear witness to his absolute failure would be the entity he most despised. "You are probably gloating at this, aren't you Man in the Moon?" Pitch thought.

"You have failed…"

The whisper slithered out of the darkness, cutting through Pitch's thoughts like a razor.

"No!" the Boogeyman threw his hands up placating the unseen owner of the voice, "It's that Jack Frost… he helped the Guardians!"

"Silenccceee!" the whisper lashed out, "Do not blame your failings on another. You failed… becaussse your ambition far exceeded your grasp."

"I had them… they were defeated!" Pitch shouted back in defiance, "There was only one child!"

"You were not told to involve the children!" The whisper boomed to a roar, causing Pitch to shield himself with his arms as he cowered. "Children will always be more powerful than a spirit who depends on them for power! You should have killed the guardians when you had the chance, but your lust for power… MY POWER… led you to disobedience… and failure."

"Please!" Pitch was on his knees; he was not above begging if it meant leniency from this horror. "Just give me another chance… I know how to defeat the Guardians! I will deal with Jack Frost and-"

"No." The whisper cut him off abruptly, "You would only fail me again…"

"But-" Pitch tried to speak again.

"You will be rendered to the darkness which you so lusted after… and in the darkness you will remain," the verdict was delivered with such venomous distaste that Pitch felt shivers of fear race up his spine. He leapt to his feet, attempted to run, but the darkness swallowed him completely.

"Besides…" the voice whispered menacingly, "I have other pawns on the board who have yet to make their move."