I have no schedule on updates, i guess it's going to be like a day after I finish the chapter or I may hold it back a little longer. I'm not exactly sure what i will do. i don't like saying i'll update on so-and-so each week and miss a day, so it may just be spontaneous updating. anyways here's the chapter, a little short but hopefully it's good.
Death wasn't the one that took anyone in unless they were dead. Then again, Jack was supposed to be in the afterlife, not made into a spirit but the Man in the Moon had interjected with him. He despised the moon for doing this, he had no clue that it could unsettle the balance between Life and Death. Life was one the worst as well, she could get on his nerves with some things that happened forever ago, she always held grudges. Death was blamed for something and he didn't even try on defending himself, no point in doing so. That wasn't the point though, but was was that the Man in the Moon did not know boundaries. He did whatever he wanted and didn't think of the consequences that could come from it. He just kept poking his nose into things that didn't pertain to him. Death was not going to let him continue getting his way, especially not with this. Jack Frost, bringer of winter pertained to him as well. He brought death whether he or anyone else liked it or not. He was going to train the winter spirit, he was going to learn how to despise the moon. Death knew what was going to be the boy's future and he wasn't going to lose him to that retched moon.
The boy held no joy, no hope, no anything. It was not something you see in any spirit, for he himself had a slight spark in his eyes as well. This was not anything a person of the supernatural should have. The boy for the past hundred years only knew pain and knew not to trust anyone, and that was because the moon didn't even try to intervene. Death could feel the dark clouded thoughts that lingered in his mind, feeding off every negative that happened to the winter spirit. The elder, ancient spirit wasn't going to leave him alone, he was nothing like the moon that only used pawns for his sick and twisted games, yet all his pawns loved and worshiped him or at most, respected him in some way. Of course, Pitch Black completely despised the moon and no way would ever even hold an ounce of respect. Death glanced at the young one, silently promising to never leave him.
A wolf and its prey. That was the best way to describe the relationship between the Grim Reaper and the winter spirit.
No one had seen the nuisance in so long. Some think that he's only hiding while others think he's gone and faded, which might not be possible since it couldn't happen to the younger ones even if they want to fade. They'd have to wait for a millennium before that could happen. Although, many throw that idea out since, much to their dismay, winter does still come around. Some seasonal sprites had looked for Jack during those times since they want to prove that he was still around, plus many summer sprites forced the spring and fall to do it since they can tolerate the cold. Summer sprites wanted to have a go at the young winter brat. That was all they liked about him, entertainment. It was to no avail, it seemed as if Jack had simply disappeared without a trace. After a few years, they gave up since they didn't want to come off as caring for the ice brat. No Jack Frost to annoy them and they enjoyed the silence.
Thing was, one yeti, one helper of North knew what happened to him. Knew what and who Jack was before being made the Bringer of Cold. Phil, as Jack named him, knew that the moon made a mistake and it was one he could not reverse. He grew more and more worried at the lack of the spirit's boisterous mood and that mischievous smirk of his, the one that can many people either scared or furious. The last time the joyful boy came was about fifty years ago and the last time the could see the spark that made him him, fading and from overhearing the conversations that Bunnymund, the easter bunny, had with North, he had no spark in them after a few months. The oversized rabbit always got on the yeti's nerves with all the complaining he did on Jack, the poor boy that was simply misunderstood and never given a chance.
When the boy's disappearance was brought up, the rabbit seemed glad, rambling on and on about how good it was and whatnot. It made Phil's blood boil. He knew nothing about that "winter ice brat" as the bunny once called him. He may be a yeti but he never forgets a child that he made toys for, Jack Frost, his life before this cursed life was one he could never forget. How could he ever stop remembering that laugh? The one so full of joy and life, who could ever forget that? And when death came to that boy, the Man in the Moon meddled and oh, how Death was not happy. No fool but the moon would ever try to get in Death's way. This had happened once before and after a while, Death took revenge and what better way than targeting the spirit that had escaped his clutches? The bringer of the end was not one to mess with and the yeti knew that, forPhil had crossed paths with Death once before. It may have been a brief but even in that slight meeting, he knew that he was not one to mess with if angered. For the moon to have meddled with Death's job and to leave the poor soul alone to suffer all the ridicule that he did, well what was stopping Death–
The yeti stopped what he was doing, cutting that thought of. He stared at the table, stared and stared and stared. He couldn't do anything but stare. Why didn't he think of it sooner? Why did the thought never cross his mind until ten years later?
Death may have gotten what was his that night Jack Frost disappeared.
