My name is Kali.
How do I know? The moon told me.
Yeah, I know. But it's true. That's all he ever said, though. I wish he said something else. Like why I'm here, what I should do, why every other spirit hates me, just because I'm fear. Fear is a useful tool. Yeah, I mean, the Guardians' rainbows and moonshine are nice enough, but kids need to face reality after awhile. And it's totally okay that they don't talk to me much. Really.
Okay, fine. I am annoyed that they've never acknowledged me. No one does, except to sneer or throw rocks. No human can see me, and no spirit wants me. Even Sam Hain, the Halloween spirit, only tolerates me. But that's fine. It's their loss, right? This is enough of my pity party of no memories and no friends. Let's fast-forward to the first time I met someone like me.
This time was one of my worst days. I was staring at a pool on a wood, trying to see how my face was a monster's face. Black hair. Tanned, brown skin. Heart-shaped face. Pink lips. And…Okay, that was a little creepy. I have pure black eyes, no whites.
Anyway, as I was doing this, I heard a voice. It was entirely normal. Yet, hearing anyone speak to me normally without shouting or snarling was so unexpected, I screamed.
The owner of the voice chuckled, a comforting sound. He had black hair, golden eyes, pale flesh, and a black robe. I stared. Disbelievingly, I "tasted" his magic. I couldn't believe it. His energies…they felt like…mine.
"Hello, Kali." he said. He was still smiling, but hesitantly.
"Hel-Hello," I stammered. Relief flooded through my body. I wasn't alone! "What's your name?" I asked, remembering my manners and shaking his hand. I was so nervous, meeting someone who didn't dislike me from the get-go because of who I was.
"My name? My name is Pitch Black. If you don't mind me asking, are you afraid of me?" I noticed how sweaty his hands were. He's nervous too, I realized.
Having noticed this fear, I decided to allay it. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my skirt, and pushed the hood of my black sweater over my head. I smiled kindly at him. He looked less fearful.
"Scared? Nah, I'm not scared. I don't scare easy." He smiled for real, now. We were just settling down to a nice poolside conversation, when the Leprechaun chased us fear-monsters away, back to NYC, where we said our goodbyes. After Pitch was gone, I threw back my head and laughed. A wild, hysterical sound, immersed with happy tears.
I wasn't alone! I had a friend! There was another fear spirit! I silently decided never to abandon my newfound friend. Us monsters have to stick together, after all.
The next time I saw Pitch was ten years later, in a place called Burgess, Pennsylvania. I danced high above the ground, waiting impatiently for nightfall. I didn't like the discomfort that kids experience with my nightmares, but it was necessary for them. Everyone had problems they needed or wanted resolved, and nightmares helped. Though I didn't like it either, they had to grow up. They had to learn the Guardians couldn't always protect them. Anyway, word on the grapevine from those I could get to talk to me was that the Guardians were faltering. Something was challenging them, and though I, too, would mourn the loss of belief, I was preparing them.
Finally! Night. What a wonderful time. The stars glistened like diamonds in the black sky. Floating above the clouds, in the cold night silence, I swore was the most wonderful thing in the multiverse. It was utterly gorgeous.
I let my senses widen. Down below, far, far down, I could sense Jack Frost and Bunnymund. I could sense all the other lesser spirits, like Amanda Vine. I could sense the Sandman, getting ready to gift the children with lovely dreams. I grinned. Couldn't have that, now could we?
As I began to drop in altitude, I felt something behind me. I whirled, unsheathing my knife and asking the wind to hold me up. That was one good thing about zephyrs, they weren't judgmental. I relaxed when I saw Pitch.
"Hey, Pitch! How are the Eighties for you?"
Pitch smiled. "Very well, thank you. I need to talk to you about something, Kali." He looked worried.
"What? Walter Turkey steal something, again?"
Pitch laughed with amusement." No, no. I was just thinking, about what the world would be like if we ruled it." He turned out, and spread his hands. "I mean, imagine it, Kali. Everyone would believe in us!" He turned to me with a feral glint in his eye, and I flew backward, willing my nightmare sand to carry me away. I wasn't sure I liked this version of my friend.
A sudden revelation struck me, hard enough to send me reeling. "It's you," I whispered. Pitch turned back to me. I couldn't stop the torrential flood of shock and horror. "You've been the one decreasing belief. You've been killing the Guardians servants! By Moon… You…killed… that girl, Jedda…"
He sneered at me. I was used to the expression on my enemies faces, but not Pitch. "Jedda was a weak little fool, but she was the brightest glow on the globe. I had to eliminate her." Stunned, I turned away. Was this really the nervous, shy Pitch from the pond? Had something happened?
He flew to me and caught my arm. " But imagine it, Kali. We could make a world where everything is-"
"Pitch Black?" He faltered. I began to descend. "No, Pitch. I will never help you in this. I might be fear, but I refuse to be evil. If you do this, you do it alone. Now, excuse me, but I have a job to do."
I admit, it was tempting, the offer of being corporeal to everyone. I wanted to do it. In the end, I don't want to be feared. I want to be understood.
Pitch let me leave. I didn't let him see the tears on my face. I descended and got to work. Billions of streams of golden sand flew over my head, going everywhere on the globe. I watched, stunned by the Sandman's beautiful work. Not Bunnymund, Tooth, or even North's work was as lovely as this. After watching for a moment, I flew up and stuck my hands in two streams. The streams turned black. I continued this way for a while. Then, I entered a house and slept in warmth, dreamless sleep I didn't need but still enjoyed.