(Heads up everybody. When I need side characters I just snatch some from various movies/shows/books instead of making more OC's because I don't want to overload you guys with a bunch of new info about characters that are minor and aren't the focus of the story. I'm not making this story a cross-over though, due to the fact that they aren't vital and only appear every once in a while, but I will tell you ahead of time who will be starring in each chapter. So here is chapter two. I do NOT own rise of the guardians OR How to train your dragon. Nor any of their characters~. Hiccup will be featured in this chapter. ^.^ Reviews: Guest: Thank you very much for taking the time to review. It's very encouraging to know someone enjoyed it. ^.^
YM LCPL IronHide: Thanks a lot for the review. I do agree it sounded cheesy, and will note it for later. Lol. I'm not a huge fan for romance myself though I do throw it in sometimes because it's enjoyable for some readers. I am however a big fan of detail. Though I'll try to work on keeping it original, now. ^.^ Thanks for the input.
soaringphoenix86: You sent me a very enthusiastic review and I loved it! XD Thanks for support. I am also an insomniac and thought it would be interesting to throw it into a character, since I've never tried it. I enjoy writing and this has become a very emotional story for me. I have big plans for Krysta and the rest of the gang. :3 Thanks for the reviews everybody! Lots of love and imaginary cookies. *Throws sparkles*)
"Wake up." Pitch demanded, smirking in amusement as Krysta sat straight up in her bed, covers falling from the twin sized bed and fluttering to the floor as she gasped. A mess of dark curls hazed her dark violet flecked eyes as she breathed heavily, hands balled into tight fists that made her knuckles white with strain. He chuckled; hands clasped behind his back loosely as her rounded her bed. It had worked! He was giddy at the thought though it would never show. One thing remained to be seen. Him.
"Krysta~." He called lightly in faux warmth, flexing his fingers in anticipation. As the girl tensed, his wicked smile grew wider. Krysta's eyes drifted up to meet his set of sterling, honey flecked orbs. He jumped slightly as the girls full lips parted over a shrill scream. Music to his ears. Pitch smirked in amusement, enjoying the show as the tan girl scrambled back into the headboard of her bed and kicked the sheets fruitlessly. He chuckled lightly, taking a small step towards her to see her flinch. He was always one for theatrics. He leaned forward slightly, arching a quizzical eyebrow.
"Can you see me?" Pitch watched with joy as her lower lip quivered. He took another step forward to reward the silence, eyes narrowing threateningly.
"Answer me, girl." Krysta took a sharp breath, nodding frantically with wide eyes filled to the brim with panic. Pitch gave himself a mental fist pump. She BELIEVED in him. She could SEE him. The feeling of existing after so long. So long had he been forced to hiding in the shadows. To cowering under beds and in caves with little to no powers to sustain himself. To dimly lit holes while receiving what little fears remained. But this girl… she practically radiated fear and it was as if someone had thrown water before a man dying of thirst. Not to mention her fear was like a fine wine that could state his thirst for days. If he were one known for patience that is. What king waited to take what was rightfully his? Certainly not this one. He sat down on the edge of her bed, smiling and feeling quite pleased with himself as he sat his folded hands on his crossed legs draped in his dark cloak. He'd almost forgotten how amusing this could be. "W-what are you doing here?" The girl managed to strangle out, wincing with each of Pitch's movements. Why shouldn't she? He was by no means trust worthy. Pitch smirked in amusement, gripping his chin lightly in mock thought.
"Well let's see… you have what I need. Therefore I have no reason not to be here." The girl shook her head frantically.
"I-I have nothing for you! You-you're not wanted here." Pitch chuckled, holding back the loud laugh that threatened to break his mask of nobility.
"I'm rarely wanted, dear girl. Quite the opposite… But you have something quite valuable to me…" He gestured to her with an open hand almost absently, but she flinched anyway. Pitch grinned wickedly, eyes sharp as they followed the fearful movement. "…Your fear." He whispered darkly, thrilled to find someone that reminded him of the power he held during the dark ages. It was glorious. Krysta's eyes widened, large indigo orbs still fearful but with a thin under layer of curiosity.
"My… Fear?" Pitch sighed, rolling his eyes while crossing his long shadow cloaked arms crossed loosely in front of his narrow chest, "I don't feel like explaining this to you, girl. Perhaps another time. For now, aren't you late for that place you always go..?" The girl's head turned abruptly, her eyes focusing on her red numbered alarm clock. 7:45.
"Crap!" She shot from her bed, seeming to forget the nightmare king as she scrambled through her closet and gathered various school supplies. Pitched watched with an arched brow, the girl scampering around like a door mouse proving to be very amusing. "Where is it you go every day anyway?" Pitch asked, following her movements with his harsh silver gaze. The girl had always woken up at 6:00 every morning and gone off to a place he couldn't follow from the restraints of shadows. Krysta ran into her bathroom and out of his sight, calling around a mouth full of toothbrush, "College! I have to get ready!" Pitch's mouth twisted in confusion. What in the name of the man on the moon was 'college'? The girl returned in a long, dusky grey ankle length skirt the swayed as she walked and a white shirt that left her tanned shoulders exposed to the morning light only to soon be covered by her obviously unmanageable curly hair that fell to her collarbone in dark crimped waves. Pitch smirked as she made a point to walk around him with as much space between as possible. Grabbing an old brown satchel that seemed on the verge of falling apart with blotches of various colored paints encrusted on the ancient fabric. "Nightmare, can you hurt people? In real life..?" She asked, not turning to face him as she clutched her bag tightly. She was obviously tense in anticipation of a frightening answer. Good. Pitch grinned, standing and looming over her, his shadow covering her small frame and transferring to the wall in front of her.
"Why? Afraid I might cause some trouble while we're out?" He growled lowly, arms crossed and a sharp toothed smile. Now that she could see him, there was no way Pitch would cower in the shadows any longer! He no longer had to remain alone under the bed with no power to even summon one nightmare. Not until now. And the opportunity would not be wasted. He watched her begin to tremble slightly, still clutching the bag. Again the thick smell and sweet taste of her fear doused his senses like oozing honey that slid into the bloodstream. Pitch took delight in the small whimper that fell from the girl's fleshy pink lips.
"Y-you're coming with me..?" He chuckle darkly, the sound vibrating low in his ashen throat. "But of course. Why would I sit here alone all day? I'm not a lap dog, nor you my master." Not to mention his amount of patience was next to nothing. The girl groaned, running her hand through her dark curls above where her thin eyebrows met in a distressed crease.
"Can other people see you?" Pitch shrugged.
"Not many do at your age, only the children as of late." She nodded, letting out a soft sigh as she grabbed a dull grey coat decorated only with a thick line of white fluff that rimmed her hood and tickled at her thin neck. There was a small silence as the girl took deep calming breaths, sliding her old potato sack on a string over her shoulder. Pitch watched her as she turned, ignoring his presence and walking toward the door. He smirked knowingly, following her as she left. If he was to be ignored, she would have to suffer dearly.
"Oh what fun this shall be…" He smiled wickedly, following her as she shuffled to a small spaced elevator. Pitch slid into the cramped space, the shadows of his writhing cloak caressing the legs of its two occupants. Krysta and some boy with light chestnut hair that was swept to the side, the bridge of his nose decorated with mismatched freckles of various shape and size. Pitch circled the boy idly, the freckled male's unseeing meadow green eyes dazed with thought. Krysta tensed as Pitch waved his hand in front of the boy's face almost lazily. The nightmare king noticed this, grinning with evil intent.
"He's as blind as a bat. It's fun to mess with these people…" As he said this, Pitch stuck his arm through the unsuspecting boy's stomach. His long, wiry limb slid past cloth and flesh, coming out the other side and tickling the air with his cryptic fingers cloaked with ashen skin. As Pitch suspected, the boy felt absolutely nothing. But the girl didn't know that and wasn't expecting it. Krysta let out a sharp gasp, eyes widening as they stared at the hand that penetrated her neighbor. Pitch laughed lowly in delight as she backed up to the corner of the elevator and the boy turned to her, Pitch's hand now protruding from his chest. The boy's brow creased in worry.
"Hey, you okay 57?"He asked, referring to her apartment number with his arms casually hanging from his forest green hoodie pocket as the dark figure's arm reached toward her from his chest. Pitch smirked at the whimper she swallowed, trying desperately to calm her features.
"Um… yeah. I'm.." She cleared her throat lightly, "I'm fine just not feeling too good."
Pitch arched an eyebrow, head peeking around the boy's to Krysta's dismay.
"57? I didn't think a frightened little girl could earn such a rank." the girl struggled to keep her eyes on the REAL person in front of her. The boy nodded, arching an eyebrow, "uh-huh. I see. Not use to the weather around here yet? You've been here for a month."
"W-well, it's a big change… I'm almost all unpacked…" She clenched and unclenched her fists lightly in an attempt to calm her nerves, her blunt nails digging into her dusky skinned palms. Pitch chuckled lightly, pulling his hand from the boy's chest cavity.
"So… um…What's your name, 57?" The boy asked, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly with a bashful but crooked smile. Pitch groaned, rolling his silver shining eyes.
"Oh how droll. Romance." He said in a dull monotone. Krysta had to resist the urge to glare at the nightmare king, knowing it would amount to nothing. She smiled softly, the turn of her lips small but sincere. "I'm Krysta. And you?" The boy extended a pale hand after pulling it from his hoodie. "I'm Hiccup. Nice to meet you." Pitch held a fist to his mouth, stifling a laugh.
"Hiccup? Oh how glorious a title of that nature must be." He snickered, walking the perimeter of the elevator leisurely. Krysta did her best to ignore the shadow man, attempting to make a new acquaintance in this new place. The girl took hiccups calloused hand, shaking it with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Hiccup." The elevator came to an abrupt halt and she released Hiccup's hand, waving to the brunette as she started toward the newly exposed sidewalks, small piles and lines of soil colored snow that the shovels had missed decorating the chipped stone. Pitch followed close behind, peering around at the few people that occupied the city at this time. Mostly tired adults with swollen eyes, red from lack of sleep and a travel mug of coffee clutched tightly. "How connected to caffeine this age has become…" He mused absent-mindedly, "Not that I'm one to complain, of course. These Adolescents that pour gallons of energy drinks down their throats in hopes to stay up days at a time are often the source of interesting nightmares. Quite entertaining." He watched the girl continue to ignore him, nodding in subtle greeting to the occasional passerby. "Oh. So you'll greet a stranger, but you won't talk to someone who's known you your entire life?" He arched a dark brow, turning and drifting over the iced concrete beside her on the wisps of shadow beneath his unmoving feet. The girl's eyes never wavered though obviously not without effort. "Today's architecture is interesting…" He stated, looking at a glass building curiously, "One bouncy ball and that entire structure is a pile of rubble." Pitch never grew tired of hearing himself talk. It was how he entertained himself most of the time. But how long would this girl last with his constant narration? It was something he was looking forward to finding out