Oh my God, guys, THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Eleven reviews! On my second chapter! And I don't even know how many favorites and follows!

Thankyouthankyouthankyouthan kyouthankyou!

You guys are so amazing! I don't deserve such amazing people reading this story. But thank you so much!

Ahhhhhhhh!

Okay, I'm good now.

Anyway, here's the third chappie! Hope you enjoy! And I don't own RotG.

The cave that the shadow lead me into was suffocatingly dark. My skin gave off an off-white glow, like all stars' skin, which illuminated the cavern somewhat, but I could still almost feel the darkness pressing in around me. The shadows seemed to form themselves into shapes, monsters, hands reaching out to grab me…

"We're here," the shadow said suddenly. I jumped at the noise. The shadow chuckled at this but said nothing.

This room was a bit brighter, with a grey light filtering in from somewhere far above. I could just make out the shape of a globe, the continents like puzzle pieces but dark and cold and empty. Huge, heavy wrought-iron cages hung from the ceiling and lined the walls. The whole chamber appeared deserted.

"Master," I heard the shadow say. "I have brought someone to see you."

Over in a cage in the farthest corner, something shifted. Suddenly, the emptiness was a person. Or well, I think a person. It had all the right number of limbs so it should probably be given the benefit of the doubt.

The shadow nudged me in the back. "Go on," it said. "The master wants to see you."

I gulped but walked cautiously forward, the dark pebbles on the floor digging into my bare feet. Over in the cage, the person-thing smiled, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth, like a shark. It was wearing a single dark robe that should probably have looked filthy but didn't, and its skin was a pale greyish-white.

"A little Star," it—no, he, it would have to be a he—said with a smile. "I must say, I haven't seen a living Star for a good four hundred years. However did you survive the fall?"

I chose not to answer, both because the man scared me and because I really didn't know. As I stood, scrutinizing the figure in the cage, he continued. "I do hope my Shadow treated you well. Do you like that, a Shadow? Just a Nightmare in human form, really, yet it has so many interesting uses. Vocal cords, for example. Tell me…" He babbled on, but I stopped listening. Instead I kneeled down, put my hands on the wrought-iron bars of the cage. The man looked so familiar, and yet…

"Who are you?" I interrupted, wrinkling my brow in confusion.

The man chuckled. It wasn't a nice chuckle, though—it was the chuckle of a man who kills butterflies for fun. "Why, hasn't the Man in the Moon told you? I thought he told his Stars everything." He gave a little tut. "No matter, I can introduce myself. My name is Pitch Black."

I gasped and stumble backwards. "So you do know me," Pitch Black said, the pleasure in his voice evident.

I nodded. "Yes, I know you. I know you're insane."

"I prefer the term misguided."

I shook my head. "I heard you tried to take over the world."

He shrugged. "True."

"I also heard you got your ass handed to you."

He glared at me. "Yes, I did try to take over the world," he said, blatantly ignoring my previous statement. "But being down here, all alone and with nothing but my shadow—you saw him earlier—and the Nightmares for company, has made me think. And I have changed my ways."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure. That's about as likely as getting a lion to become a vegetarian."

He smiled. "Unlikely but true. Besides, I can't stay here. The world needs me."

"Needs fear? Most people need fear like they need a hole in the head," I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Like it or not, people need fear more than they realize. You know that, I think. You yourself woke up after falling hundreds of miles. You should have been terrified. Yet you felt nothing." His dark eyes bored into my pale ones. "Like it or not, fear protects people. It gives them something to strive for and keeps them from doing stupid things. The world without fear is unbalanced and unstable."

I turned. "Not my problem."

"Oh, I think it is." I turned back to see Pitch grinning at me. "See, it's your world, too. "

"No. It's not," I said, leveling my head to look him in the eyes. "It's the humans' world. Not mine. So what do you really want me for?"

"Why, I would think it's obvious. You're the Wishing Star, darling. And I wish to be free."

I tensed at those words and he laughed. "Of course, you wouldn't have to grant that wish. But you want to, don't you? It's in your nature. It hurts to know you can't grant a wish."

It was true. Technically, Stars don't have to grant every wish. But not granting a wish, well, it hurts. It contradicts out very nature and for a spirit, doing something like that is enough to rip your essence apart. We can no more resist granting wishes than an elderly mosquito can resist a flamethrower.

So I was already grimacing, knowing that granting one of Pitch's wishes would be a worst-case scenario, but not knowing how I could possibly resist, when Pitch said, "Of course, I could sweeten the deal."

I grimaced, the pain already twisting through my gut, but manage to spit out, "What are you talking about?"

As I fell to the ground, I heard Pitch say, "You're the Wishing Star, but tell me…when's the last time you ever got a wish? Oh, that's right: never. You can't grant your wishes, can you?" He laughed. "But I can. I know what you wish for in the quiet of your heart. You want to know. You want to know who you are and why the Moon chose you. And here's the thing—" he leaned down to where I was curled up in agony on the floor, pressing his face to the bars of the cage, "—I can tell you."

I cried out as a jolt of pain spasmed its way through my body. Pitch let out an awful laugh. "You won't be able to resist it forever," he howled. "The longer you're near me, the more you'll need to grant my wish. To free me."

I screamed as white-hot pain seared my head, squeezing my eyes tightly shut, but still heard Pitch confidently say, "It's only a matter of time."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was obvious where the star had landed. The snowy forest looked like the blast site for a miniature nuclear warhead—trees were knocked over, bushes had been destroyed, there was even a crater in the center of the clearing with a person-shaped hole in the center.

However, there was no person.

"Hah! What did I say?" Jack Frost crowed. He grinned, tossing an arm around Bunnymund, who quickly shrugged it off. "I hate to say 'I told you so,' but…I so told you so."

"Just because she's not here doesn't mean she's alive, mate," Bunnymund glared at Jack, brushing off his shoulder where Jack had touched it.

"Maybe not, but would a dead person leave footprints?" Jack grinned pointing to a set of clearly defined tracks in the wet snow.

"Jack's right," the Tooth Fairy said, sounding shocked. "She is alive."

"But vere did she go? A star on her own—could be anyvere," North said, already following the trail of footprints. A golden question mark manifested itself over the Sandman's head.

Suddenly, a blood-curding scream pierced the frigid air, startling a nearby flock of birds into flight.

"Guys," Jack said with a sinking heart, "I think I know where she is."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

I pressed my head against the cool floor, but at that point, it didn't help alleviate the pain at all. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, and I didn't pause to brush them away or marvel that it was the first time that I'd ever cried. The pain that just an hour ago was such a good thing, such a human thing, was now making me shriek in agony. How the hell could humans stand this?

"How long, do you suppose?" Pitch mocked me. "How long until you can't resist anymore? Until you're forced to grant my wish?"

"I hope you're prepared to wait, Pitch," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Because it's gonna be a long, long time until I free you."

"Oh, come now. We both know that's not true. I'd say…ten minutes? Maybe fifteen? Of course, if you could get away from me, it'd be a lot longer. It's a lot easier to resist when the person who made the wish isn't in the same room, am I right?" Laughing, he reached a hand through the bars and tapped a finger on my neck, his touch sending another jolt of pain through my system. I cringed, clutching my head and howling in pain. Which, of course, only made Pitch laugh harder.

For a star, granting a wish is like breathing. It comes so naturally that most of the time you don't even think about it. But when you're forced to go without it for a while, it feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest. And, just like breathing, it's impossible to stop it by yourself. Oh, sure, you can delay it for a while, but when it comes down to it, you grant wishes whether you want to or not. Willpower can only go so far.

Up in the heavens, resisting a wish isn't so hard. It hurts a bit, true, and if you go about doing it often, it'll probably kill you, but because you're so close to the Moon and so far from the wisher, it's not that bad. But the closer you are to the wisher, the harder it gets, and here, in the same room as Pitch—it felt like a steamroller was slowly going over me and then backing up to make sure it got the job done.

I could feel myself already gearing up to grant Pitch's wish, the magic welling up inside me, my natural instincts at war with my willpower. Pitch, however, was wrong in his guess. I couldn't go ten minutes like this. More like two.

I could hear faint voices and footsteps through the haze of pain, people coming down one of the tunnels. Pitch tutted. "Oh, oh. Look who's coming. The Guardians. I wonder," he leaned down to whisper in my ear, "if they'll get here in time?"

I whimpered and squeezed my eyes shut tighter. I could hear the voices properly now:

"This way!"

"Can you see her?"

"Oi! Watch where you swing that staff of yours, Frosty!"

"Bite me, Kangaroo!"

And so on.

I bit down on my tongue to keep from screaming and the taste of iron flooded my mouth. Please, I prayed to MiM. Please, MiM, let them get here in time. Don't let me grant Pitch's wish. Please…

"There she is!" The voice echoed around the chamber, and I just made out the shape of a boy with snow-white hair holding a staff when…

"Three. Two. One," Pitch counted down.

The dam broke. The magic that had been welling up inside me finally wormed its way out in a brief, retina-searing flash of white light. Behind the light, the door to Pitch's cage swung calmly open.

"At last!" Pitch cried, grinning like a pyromaniac in a match factory. "After six long years, I'm free!"

The same darkness that had led me here expanded, swirling into people and horses and hundreds of other forms: an army of shadows. Pitch's Nightmares.

I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see the chaos I'd caused. But I didn't need to. I could hear the screams and struggles of the Guardians, but worse, I could hear Pitch's voice in my ear. "Thank you, sweetheart," it said. "Unfortunately, you've been so helpful that I simply can't allow you to leave just yet. You're coming with me."

Something struck me—hard—at the base of my skull. There was one last jolt of white-hot pain, but before I had a chance to cry out, the world faded to black.

So...did you like it? Please let me know! Thanks!