Summary: Slightly AU, set somewhat if in the middle of the movie, it took a different turn. Mentions of Dark!Jack. And a much more evil Pitch.
Everyone knows the stories of Santa Claus, Cupid, The Sandman, The Easter Bunny and all those. They are the ones who spread fun and imagination across the world all to make children smile. They are also disappearing. The Guardians are dying, one by one, as more and more children stop believing. The children are succumbing to fear of all that goes bump in the night. And that Fear has a name. That Fear is Pitch Black—the Boogeyman—The Nightmare King. For the past 20 years, the world has slowly been captured by fear. The Man in the Moon, of course, saw this coming and had rounded together his finest Guardians to recruit the newest member, Jack Frost, to help in the battle against the Dark. They would fight, they would win, and Pitch would become weak again and go back into hiding. What he didn't expect was for Jack to fall for Pitch's tricks and fall under his control. And thus, the infamous Cold And Dark was formed.
"What goes better together than cold and dark!?"
Still determined, and many years later, Manny wove together another sprite, one he was sure would not fail. But alas, this new sprite—yet she was very powerful indeed—she too disappeared. Now, many decades later, a spirit has appeared, one that has appeared unnoticed and unknown to The Guardians, and Manny hasn't spoken to them in years. Worried and desperate, the Guardians North, E. Aster Bunnymund, Toothiana, and Sandy travel to confront this unknown sprite after hoping she can help them find the one named Nightlight, whom The Man in the Moon said would be the downfall of Pitch. But this sprite of the shadows proves to give them a run for their money. She is called The Shadow Creeper, Shadow for short, and has been responsible for the rise of all things that tie together superstitions and fear for the past several decades. And when The Guardians ask her to join them in the fight against Pitch and save the world, she refuses, being more defiant than Jack was. It isn't until a confrontation between herself and the Freeze King, and then a battle against The Nightmare King, that resulted in the loss of The Sandman, did her immortal life hit an all-time low.
Now the "Fabulous Four" Guardians has been broken and Shadow is out for blood. But will her persistence be in vain? Especially when she doesn't know exactly who or WHAT she is—the name "The Boogeyman" makes her skin crawl for a reason—and when she is plagued with memories of a life not her own, one of loss, regret, sorrow, and torture. Of living a life with a family not her own; then of being held for years in a castle deep underground. With her fears constantly plaguing her, how can Shadow expect to defeat The Nightmare King when he knows all your deepest, darkest fears? And why, with a name and power clearly deserving the name "Shadow," does The Man in the Moon continuously describe her as "light?"
*Jack/OC
Tooth/Jack
Maybe Tooth/Bunny
T for language and mentions of death. May be rated M later for future mature content and maybe graphic writing.
[DISCLAIMER: I'm only writing this once so read attentively! DREAMWORKS and the fabulous WILLIAM JOYCE OWN THE GUARDIANS OF CHILDHOOD book series AND RISE OF THE GUARDIANS movie, the CHARACTERS, PLOT, and ETC. I OWN NOTHING BUT THE TWISTED LITTLE SPRITE OC.]
PRELUDE
Wonder.
Dreams.
Hope.
Memories.
Fun.
These are the main traits that are alive in every child. The ones that tend to disappear as they become older, making them forget the grandeur of life. This is what the Guardians are to protect and keep alive. Without them, there would only be fear.
But what about the lesser, not-as-acknowledged characteristics that children also hold? They are not very noticeable in every child, but they reside somewhere.
What about them?
Can they all eventually get the recognition they deserve? Or remain to be overlooked?
The Man in the Moon thought this over. He had always called upon those main traits for years, leaving the lesser alone to their own, knowing that they would survive unlike those like Wonder who would most likely stifle. But as he looked down, all he could do was frown and shake his head.
This was not the world he had once known. No, the children here are becoming much more brutal and full of apathy. The traits have become increasingly rare in the children of today due to losing their innocence too early. But what else could he do? There were already guardians for all that was needed, even those such as Cupid and Mother Goose, for Love and Storytelling.
The Man in the Moon slumped his shoulders. It was like fighting a losing battle.
And that's when it hit him—he suddenly realized what they all were missing. And then he knew what he had to do. He hurried to the room where the giant telescope was, he clambered up the small latter and looked thru at the children below. He knew it would be difficult to find a vessel that still possessed even a sliver of faith.
The telescope maneuvered itself to a certain point to where it sensed the location of the child he needed.
The Man in the Moon looked thru the giant lens. He didn't smile; this was no laughing matter. The situation was not necessarily a happy or joyous one, he knew. Yet sure enough, the magical telescope was correct and he was soon peering down at his soon-to-be solution.
Have you ever known what it's like to be alone? I don't mean the kind from being taunted by the school bully, or from being the last to be picked for a game.
I mean truly alone.
The kind that grabs at you with an iron grip and hovers over you like a cloud. Making you feel as if it will suck you in like a blackhole, that you want nothing more than to disappear from existence. And if it gets worst enough, you might get to the point where you just stop caring—for anything or anyone.
Kinda depressing? Must be a mighty lot of loneliness, you say? Well, what else would I have expected with my...condition..?
Shadows constantly play along the stone walls, something that has started to become part of the norm for me and yet somewhat calming. If only I hadn't made...whatever stupid mistake I had, I doubt I'd be in this predicament.
All I do know, is I think that I'm somewhere buried below the surface. Of course, this makes it impossible to tell how much time has passed; has it been days, or months...? Is it daytime or night? You're not given much time to think, anyway. They make sure of that. They can smell fear, practically.
So when his voice emerges from the darkness, eyes glittering devilishly, do not show it. Even though it is like looking in the eyes of a evilpredator; his voice was mysterious yet rolled so smoothly off the tongue. ... If only I hadn't listened to him.
...And I had played right into his hands, as I could tell as I'm here now.
For as long as I can remember, I've been held captive here in this deep, dark hell. Yet I don't remember exactly why.
No, captive is not the right word for this. It was something else...what was that other word...?
Oh, yeah
Prisoner.
Iron hung from above, decorating the cavern's high, dome-like ceiling. The faint flickering from metal supplied the only source of light so far underground, even though it was always dim.
She sat up instantly. There were no footsteps. There never were, just that cool feeling of a presence. She rubbed her arms in a feeble attempt of warming herself up from the sudden draft. Her eyes flickered toward the front of the small room—the surrounding walls were made of cold rock, save for the front which is where the little light filtered thru the cold bars. Where she knew he would come thru.
"Aw, don't be like that." She heard him before she could see him. He called softly to her and she could make out his long fingers curling around the metal bars of her cell. His features were invisible thru the darkness that shrouded him whole, except for floating glittering eyes and pointed teeth.
She instinctively scooted to press against the walls as if she could somehow back away and ignoring the chills that shot through her body. She swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists in the darkness.
"There is nothing to be afraid of," his voice lowered with each syllable; he chuckled lightly adding, "that is, if you cooperate." He leaned against the metal, telling her to come. He didn't bother forcing a smile this time after so many failed attempts to make her obey.
She shook her head frantically and his face twisting in a scowl. She inched up against the wall and quickly began shivering from the wall's temperature. Then she regretted her action, realizing what she had done.
The tall man growled. She wondered if he could see her eyes widening in the dark as easily as she could see him. And without further warning, he yanked open the steel door with seemingly no effort, that she couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy for. He seized her upper arm, pulling her close and forcing her to stare into his bright, ghostly, amber eyes.
"That was not a question you little worm!" he hissed in her face.
"Hey Pitch!"
The lean man turned to scold the uninvited guest only to be cut off as the intruder continued.
"Lay off a little will ya. She's already gotten enough scratches on her."
Looking behind Pitch's shoulder, she could see his partner-in-crime balancing on one of the few lines strung high throughout the cavern's walls. He was somewhat pale, she could tell by his bare feet as he seemed to concentrate on to not losing his balance. His face was constantly shrouded in the shadows of his hood, leaving her imagination to run rapid about his features.
He stopped somewhat right behind Pitch and swung the long crooked stick to rest on his right shoulder.
"If she gets too hurt anymore, I don't think that would be any good for your plans," he mocked.
Her stomach dropped. She had forgotten about his "tests." She could practically see his smirk thru the darkness of his hoodie.
Pitch turned back toward her and put a finger under his lip, musing this suggestion over. She flinched feeling his ghostly hand grab her face roughly and force her to look in his haunting stare. She awaited her fate with wide eyes, suddenly realizing she was holding her breath. She knew he had made a decision when he held his hand, fingers splayed in front of her face, only to quickly pull it back.
He smirked wickedly. "Nah. I think you should be able to handle it without assistance this time." He folded his hands behind his back.
She looked at him confused when the sudden tingle of something sliding across her leg. With each second Pitch's smirk widened, the crawling sensation grew more and irritating, yet she ignored it.
"Don't try to fight it, child," Pitch cooed.
That's when she looked down. Pitch's shadow was growing—long, dark tendrils slid from him to the short feet away where she stood. She watched in frozen horror as they slid across her feet, almost like snakes. And the longer she stared, the longer and faster the shadows grew, to sliding across her feet, up her body. And the closer it slid up her body, the more she noticed some resembled clawed hands.
"If you resist again, it could backfire, and at the most, you could come out deformed," Pitch warned without the slightest hint of worry.
The shadows were as cold as ice; she looked up to Pitch to find a placid expression on his face. She felt one long tendril climb the side of her face then grasp tightly to her hair, her mouth opening in a silent scream. She was afraid to look down. She could feel the shadows crawling up every inch of her and didn't want to see her body consumed in black.
She could swear that a tear rolled down her cheek sometime during it all, but the feeling was wiped away by an icy finger of a shadow-hand.
A loud neigh broke the silence. She need not turn around to know that one of Pitch's so-called "nightmares" were behind her—solidified bad dreams that took on the appearance of stallions. And honestly, she thought the name fit them perfectly.
"Are you afraid?" Pitch mocked coolly.
She lost sight in her left eye. Her entire body was covered in the black substance, save for her face, feeling the cold sensation as they danced thru her hair.
The nightmare trotted around the two in a circle.
"You know that they can smell fear." Sounds of several more hooves joined the silence. Pitch moved aside to allow the nightmare to stare into her eyes. It licked its large lips in anticipation.
To say she was afraid would be an understatement.
Pitch's partner shifted, now holding his long staff out in front of himself defensively.
"Try to sing for them a little, why don't you," Pitch mocked, watching a dark hand cover her mouth like Saran Wrap and her eyes stare in terror at the dark substance poured into her mouth and nose. She couldn't breathe, and choked.
The nightmare's thick throat opening to reveal rows of jagged teeth was the last thing she saw, then everything went black.
A/N: Yeah... so if you haven't already gotten it, this is sorta a prologue. This part is sometime during the movie in a sort of AU, as if it would have taken a different turn. And... should I continue? Is this hopeless? Please let me know
