AN: I haven't read the original books the Guardians of Childhood yet, but I know enough about Pitch Black to put in some certain . . . references in this story - only one detail being a sort of spoiler for anyone who wishes but hasn't read the books. But that will be coming much, much later. For those who have read the books, I'm sure there will be one question hanging on your mind about this spoiler, and may be pretty shocked when its revealed in the end. However, I'm not going to go exactly by it, instead I'm going to be twisting it a little.
Special Thanks To:
Abby-Flourite: I'm so happy you like the story so far! Thanks so much!
Frost: Okay, good, lol. I know Pitch is supposed to be the big-ol-scary Nightmare King, but I don't believe he would ever do anything bad like hurting a child. I haven't read the books yet (still trying to find them since they disappeared after Christmas time) so I wasn't sure. Thank you and I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter!
- For being my first reviewers!
~x~
The Meaning of Fear
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Superior
In a series of fortunate events . . .
Pitch had evaded the Sandman's eye. He ducked into the shadows of an alley, crawling through the dark crevices of the walls and blending into the corners.
With an annoyed sigh, Pitch waited for a signal from one of his Mares to know when the coast was clear. It had been getting harder since the night of Halloween to move around, especially since the small children slowly forgot all about the scary monsters that were supposed to be hiding in their bedrooms.
This happened every year, and though Pitch didn't have to like it, he knew his power dwindled as the days passed until they were normal once again. Oh, how he missed the Dark Ages at this time. The days when everyone, adult and child alike, were filled with nothing but fear. He was so powerful, and the dark energy that came from said fear was like a never-ending feast.
Stupid Moon, Pitch thought childishly, resisting the urge to follow the thought with his tongue sticking out at the offending space-object.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. It could have just been his imagination (and it was, the man had nothing to go by considering that he never really had someone to rant to) but he swore that he could just feel the Man in the Moon laughing at him. Mocking him from the safe distance.
It was a good thing the children in the world increased as the years went by. The humans were populating the Earth as if they had nothing better to do, and with more children came more work for the Guardians. It didn't happen as often as Pitch would have liked, but sometimes they would slip. It's not like they could keep an eye on every child at all times. In fact, the Sandman was pretty much his only worry, since his abilities stretched on for miles and miles, making him seem as if he were in several places at once.
Jack Frost, the newest and most annoying Guardian, spent most of his time in his hometown; using all his spare time to be with his first believer as much as he could. One year ago, one of those children who fought by the side of the Guardians had woken up, and stopped believing. What was her name again? Pepper? Pipper? Pitch didn't know, nor did he really care.
It was an eye opener for the young Guardian, and when Frost wasn't busy with his winter duties, or patroling near the year-round snowing areas, he was savoring his moment of bliss. The possibility that his best friend would grow up and no longer believe, scared him.
The white-haired brat should consider himself lucky to be believed in at all! To be the only other spirit to know the Nightmare King's pain, and to fly away with followers of his own later on was just . . .
A soft hiss escaped Pitch's lips as he ducked out of sight once again, flattening himself against the brick wall and disguising himself as a dumpster's shadow. Golden streams of sand, taking the shapes of butterflies, unicorns, and other gooey childish things, slowly slipped past.
Ah, the Sandman knew he was near.
April sang softly to herself, playing with the rabbit-doll in her lap as the movie played in her room. She sat on her pink carpeted floor, and though she did enjoy the fish movie plenty of other times, she didn't really feel like paying attention.
It had been two weeks since the Haunted Trail incident on Halloween. It wouldn't have been a big deal, except for the fact that her nanny got fired. It wasn't because she had left April there for a short time before gathering the courage to travel back and get her. It was mostly because the cops had been called and the entire party had ended in a big mess.
With April's father being a big business man and a reputation hanging on his neck, he couldn't have problems like that rise again. He couldn't afford to have the media mention the irresponsible nanny he hired to watch over his four year old daughter. Oh, the horror he would face in the public if that had happened!
But none of this travelled through April's thoughts like the spikey-haired man did. He never answered her question about the meaning of fear, and after trying to assure him that her bunny ears weren't real, he had disappeared shortly before her nanny had come back to get her. So, with another sigh, April was yet again left without an answer.
The small television in her room buzzed, leaving an annoying echo in the little girl's ears before flickering slightly. The blue fish had just started her swimming song before the screen went black. April blinked and frowned. She wasn't finished watching her movie . . .
The light above her began to flicker, before it too went out.
Great, she huffed angrily. The lights went out! And it was probably because of the stupid wind! The last time the lights went out when no one flipped the switch, her nanny told her in a thick accent that rolled the R's, that the weather, like the rain or the wind, was fighting with the cords that kept them on. Stupid weather! Couldn't they just get along?
Normally, the nanny would come up at this time to make sure she was okay. But this new nanny wasn't here yet. Was she sleeping?
Now what? April thought, listening to the gust of wind fly past her window. She felt her way around the floor, being careful not to bump her head on her bed frame as she reached for her purple Barbie flashlight. It was small, but it might have been just enough for her to see and maybe she can make her way to Nanny's room downstairs.
April nearly dropped her flashlight in surprise, feeling the chilly brush of wind run through her as her window slammed open, and then shut again. That was odd, she thought. Her window was usually locked, how could it open?
She shined her light at the window, seeing nothing but darkness and other dim street lights - wait, what was that?
A sparkling figure, one that resembled a pony in a lot of ways, just ran passed her window! She ran forward, hoping to catch another glimpse of it again, and jumped onto her bed.
Curious, she thought, using the word her 3rd nanny used when things didn't seem to make sense. What would ponies be doing, galloping in the air outside her window?
It ran by again, making April gasp in surprise - she nearly missed it! The pony was very big and sparkly, with black and silver-ish sand trailing under it's hooves and had bright yellow eyes. It did that really pretty pose she saw horses do in pictures or in movies, standing on it's hind legs and letting out a beautiful horse-y sound. It gave her a small, two second glance, and galloped away.
"Pretty!" she gasped again, her face almost pressed flat against her window as she rocked up and down on the bed. But what was it running from? She sat there for another minute, waiting for it to gallop by once more.
A loud creak from behind her captured her attention. Nothing would have distracted the young four year old from having a chance to see the pretty pony again, but as stated before, April hated loud noises. And in this quiet room, the creek of a door was really loud.
She was still wondering when her father was going to fix that stupid closet door! It was one of the reasons she hated dressing herself in the morning when the nanny decided to sleep in. Her door always made that annoying sound!
The fact that the door was opening on it's own didn't seem to bother April as she carefully climbed off her bed. She shined her flashlight at the small opening, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Her princess backpack hung on the doorknob, rocking slightly from the movement. Curious, and without hesitation, April swung the door open, thus causing her to shine flashlight directly into a pair of golden eyes.
Pitch hissed for probably the fifteenth time that day, shielding his eyes from the offending light. "Turn that blasted thing off!" he ordered. The light lowered, and his eyes adjusted.
He had been running from the Sandman for nearly an hour. So it was suffice to say he was out of breath, and out of energy. When he finally found a blind spot from the Sandman's foolish dreamlings, he took it without hesitation - using a few of his 'Mares as a distraction to make his escape. How cowardly he felt; having to run. Of all the things he imagined himself doing, it was never this.
Ever since his defeat two years ago, things have never been the same. He managed to bring fear back in ways it was never before - but his power will never compare to back than. Oh, how he missed the Dark Ages . . .
He gazed at the tiny girl shining a flashlight into her closet, and though Pitch was never one to be surprised (at least, admittedly) he immedietly recognized the little girl from the forest trail that Halloween night two weeks ago. The one who asked him such daft question about the meaning of fear. This is the future generation of our planet, he thought bitterly, not liking his current situation at all.
He never did get the chance to think about the girl and her odd question after that first meeting. Heck, who would? What child didn't know the meaning of fear? Sure, there were those who didn't feel fear, at least, as much as he would like them to. But they still knew what it was and what it meant.
"Mister Porcupine-Head!" The girl cheered, widening her closet door.
Perfect. This was indeed the little girl who made fun of his hair - but Porcupine-Head? Was this child out of her mind!? Did she not know who he was?
He decided not to dignify the girl's choice of words with a response, instead stretching himself taller, to seem bigger, and posed in a threatening manner. His eyes of liquid gold narrowed, shining brightly.
"Little girl," he growled, leaning in closer until he was face to face with her. "I am the Boogieman! You. Must. Fear. Me!"
It was the first time a child was able to see him, and reacted the way this girl had.
She giggled. And then proceeded to poke his nose with her tiny finger.
"You have a big nose!" She said, followed by another stream of giggles.
Of course, Pitch sighed internally, lowering his arms and straightening.
It was silent for another moment. The lights began to flicker back on, and Pitch could finally have a good look at the room he resided in. He blanched at the color, wondering if the girl had enough pink in her room.
The walls were a creamy white, lined at the top and bottom with bright pink designs. Her large four-poster bed was against the wall on the far right, just below the window, and sat across the shelf holding a TV. Pink, pink, and more pink. Sickening.
He nearly sighed in relief when he saw that the nightgown the girl was wearing was yellow with green flower on the front. Instead of the tight blonde curls she had for that ridiculous costume she wore, her hair hung down on her shoulders in large, softer curls.
Finally after a long, awkward five minutes of staring at each other, the girl spoke up.
"Mister Porcupine-Head -"
"My name," he growled. "is Pitch. Black. I am the Boogieman. The Nightmare King! I strike fear into the hearts of annoying little children like you!"
He noticed the little girl pause at the word fear. She tilted her head, her nose scrunching up in a way that Pitch could only guess meant she was thinking.
"Oh!" She finally gasped, dropping her still-lit flashlight on the ground and clapping her hands together. "Mister, did you come find me so you can teach me what fear means?"
Pitch scoffed and crossed his arms. Such a thing for a child to say! As if he would waste his time. As if she didn't feel fear before. Was the child broken?
He opened his mouth for a sourful retort; to tell this young girl that she was a small child with no sense, and of course she knew what fear was.
But something stopped him.
Was it the look in her eyes? Those round, fern green eyes filled with wonder and hope. She must have believed in Santa Claus, and of course the Easter Bunny (from what he could tell, the Easter Bunny was a must, judging by her rooms . . . decor . . .) so she knew of the Guardians. But what of him? What did she know of the Boogieman?
The Guardian's influence must have been spreading fast. Because if this child truly didn't know what it meant to fear, and yet she can still see him, he knew he was in trouble. Oh, bless whatever force of the universe helped him realize his soon to be ultimate doom! For guiding him to this one child who gave him possibilities to change everything!
And what's more, was that this child can be a spark. Not just any spark, thee spark. When she really begins to discover the frightening experiance of meeting the one and only Pitch Black, she can tell the others. She can get others to believe in him! To not only fear the Boogieman as a figment of their imagination, but to spread his existance far and wide!
This is his chance. He would be superior. He is superior! Especially in the face of this foolish little girl who dare challange the name of fear!
So, Pitch grinned a venomous grin.
"Why, yes. I will . . . teach you the meaning of fear. State your name, child."
"I'm April!" she cheered, giving him a small salute as she did so.
In an attempt to distract himself from rising annoyance at the child's lack of common sense, Pitch slowly picked up the discarded flashlight.
"To start things off," he said, ignoring the wide-eyed and apparently happy expression the girl carried. "Are you afraid of the dark?"
With a snap of his fingers, the lights blacked out.
". . ."
It was supposed to end there. Usually such a dramatic line would end a chapter there, wouldn't it? Wrong. Pitch was once again met with the shine of light straight into his eyes. He flung the flashlight he held away and he shielded himself.
"Gah!" he gasped.
"Nightlight." April said dully, holding the round, moon-shaped electronic in her hands.
Pitch growled, disappointed with that simple and yet still confused expression on her face.
"Mister Nightlight, how can you teach me what fear means if I can't see?"
"The point was to be in the dark, you insolent -" he paused, his clawed hands frozen in the mid-air.
"What did you just call me?"
April fiddled with the round light before casually setting it on the edge of her bed. "Nightlight." She said, as if the name had no meaning at all.
"My Mommy said that when it's really dark and there's a small light in the bedroom, you call it a nightlight."
How? How? Do you get Nightlight from darkness!?
"You eyes are really pretty in the dark!"
Of course.
With the never ending glow of his eyes in these shadows - a feature he used to pride himself in until now - of course it would capture the attention of this simple-minded creature.
He would have to do better than such a weak trick. This small challange shouldn't take long. Soon enough he will teach her the meaning of fear, and be on his way. Scaring the four year old April should be easy, right?
. . . Right?
A/N: Yay! Second chapter done! How will Pitch go about this so-thought-of easy mission? Any ideas? I want to hear them! And if I happen to find a particular scare-idea that I haven't thought of already, I'll give you your credit!
So be sure to review! More reviews mean faster updates!
