Happy Friday everybody! Alright, so I was trying to do some research and I found that there are some individuals who believe "Pippa" is Jack's sisters canon name and then there are those who believe it is "Emma". Since the fandom seems to enjoy both of these names I chose to use neither, just as a precaution. I couldn't decide between two names and Pebble900 helped me decide on "Caroline". So her name is going to be Caroline. Sorry if you don't like that. Please enjoy the chapter.
Chapter Four: Fear and Desperation
It was amusing, watching as the Guardian of Memories hugged her arms tightly around herself. Each feather along her body seemed to be stand on edge, attempting to protect Tooth from the encroaching cold. Jack gave a small smile and shifted his course slightly to Tooth's left, trying to avoid freezing his friend with the winter wind. "Feeling a little chilly?" he asked, the grip on his staff tightening.
She nodded, turning her big, magenta eyes on Jack. "Sometimes I feel like you do your job a little too well" she sighed, a small grin flashing across her flawless features for the briefest second. The snow that blanketed every inch of the world below was beautiful, glistening in the bright light of the luminous moon. Tooth let her gaze linger on the moon, deep in thought. Perhaps the Man in the Moon had planned this encounter with Jack and his "sister". Maybe it was some type of test for the Guardian of Fun.
"We're almost there, right?" the winter spirit yawned lazily, floating on his back now. Every star in the fathomless night sky twinkled and glistened, making Jack feel insignificant and lonely. He did not have to feel lonely though, he was on his way to see his sister. Jack's face fell at the sudden realization that his sister could not see him. It did not matter, just being able to see her was enough to quell the curiosity and longing that bubbled up inside of him. "We are almost there, right?" he inquired once more, his tone sounding extremely eager.
There was an audible sigh. Tooth turned towards her impatient companion. "Yes, we're almost there Jack." Tooth could almost hear the sound of the teeth that lay littered below; it felt as if they were trying to pull her down towards them. She remained focused on the situation at hand. The rest of her fairies were collecting the teeth at this very moment. Besides, she was looking for a specific tooth. "I think I know where I have to go" the half-hummingbird giggled, her wings beating faster. Tooth took a sharp dive, towards the ground. "I'll catch up with you when I'm done, alright?" she called back, her voice barely discernible from the sound of the rushing wind.
"Alright" Jack replied, his eyes immediately searching for the white house he had seen earlier. The black roof stood out like a sore thumb, in the midst of many evergreen trees. With a crooked smile, the winter spirit plunged downwards. The chilled, night air felt heavenly as it streamed past his body and through his hair. He kept his attention on the roof, landing softly upon the dark shingles.
Soft voices were barely audible from somewhere down below. Curious, Jack made his way across the roof, practically floating. He then knelt down on the uneven shingles and dangled his upper body down, trying to see what was happening through the window that lay just below.
Jack jumped down off of the roof. He lazily suspended himself in the thin air, cupping his hands over his eyes to see what was inside of the room. With wide eyes, Jack saw his sister sitting on her bed.
Of course, she was not alone.
"Y-you forgot my n-nightlight?" Trista stuttered, taking the long trek up the staircase slowly. She felt defeated and angry with her mother for forgetting something so important to her. "I've never slept soundly without my nightlight!" She stopped near the top of the stairs, waiting for her mother to catch up. Mustering a forlorn look, Trista turned towards her mother and pouted.
Trista's mother crossed her arms over her chest, not budging on the matter. "I didn't forget your nightlight, Trista. I left it back in the old house. This is a new town, offering an opportunity for you to change." She watched her daughter's eyes widen at these words. "You are fourteen and you shouldn't need to rely on a nightlight to feel safe."
With a strong, reassuring hand on her back, Trista was escorted towards her bedroom. Reluctantly, she opened the aging wooden door and shuddered as it creaked open. It seemed as if the house became an entirely different entity after the sun went down. "Can I just sleep with you tonight?" the brunette prompted, both hands gripping the door frame desperately. She did not want to go inside her bedroom.
"No, you can't" her mother replied, her voice stern. "It is about time you got over this fear of the dark, young lady." With an elbow, she nudged Trista on the back and watched as the girl relinquished her hold on the door frame. The two entered the old bedroom, Trista slowly climbing onto the pink quilt that was strewn over top of the bed. Lime green sheets were visible through some of the thinning areas of the quilt. At least Trista's sheets were slightly comforting.
With big eyes, Trista watched as her mother gave a smile. "You're braver than you think, Trista" the woman cooed, her hand wavering near the door knob. Trista's heart was hammering in her chest, begging for her mother not to close the door. "Goodnight, honey. I'll see you in the morning". With that, the door clicked shut and Trista was plunged into darkness.
Quickly, the girl fumbled to get underneath her sheets. They seemed to be fighting her, trying to prevent the teenager from seeking any sort of refuge. What felt like hours later, Trista managed to wiggle in between her sheets and pulled the soft quilt up past her nose. Her brown eyes scanned every corner of the room out of sheer terror.
There was not a time when she could remember ever sleeping without a nightlight. Darkness had always scared Trista. Of course this was not her only fear. The supernatural also scared the teenager and she had been diagnosed with limnophobia at the age of three. Trista could not recall anything traumatizing ever happening to her in a lake, but she was fearful of them. Even the psychologist could not properly pinpoint the cause of her "lake anxiety".
It felt as if a lump had formed in the girl's throat. She gulped; sweat beginning to bead on her forehead making her bangs wet and sticky. Her breathing was becoming labored with each thought that floated through her consciousness. She had to stop thinking about things that scared her. With shaking hands, Trista lowered the quilt and attempted to inhale deeply. Her trembling breaths seemed to echo in the otherwise empty room. "Just close your eyes and go to sleep" she whispered to herself quickly, pulling the pink quilt back up to her face. "Just go to sleep…"
"Seems like this one is full of fear" came a condescending voice. Trista felt her heart skip a beat as she sunk down lower underneath the covers of her bed. She searched desperately for the source of the mysterious voice and her eyes rested upon an individual standing in front of the sliding closet door. He blended in with the darkness and shadows, his piercing golden eyes the only discernible feature. Trista's eyes widened in fear as he stepped a little closer, the floorboards slightly creaking underneath of his weight.
"W-who are you?" the teenager squeaked, her voice barely audible to even herself. She watched as the stranger approached the bed, the edges of his lips pulling into a smirk. Trista closed her eyes and pulled the quilt up over her head, gripping it tightly. "How did you get in my room?" she tried again, her voice shaking with every word.
The quilt was pulled from her grasp and Trista clenched her fists against her chest. Despite her better judgment, Trista opened her eyes to see the mysterious individual look slightly startled. He held the old blanket delicately and placed it on the foot of the bed. "You can see me?" he asked slowly, his eyes locked with Trista's.
She nodded slowly, fear gripping her heart. Taking in a deep breath, Trista tried to calm herself. "I asked you a question" she continued, false bravado evident. "Who are you and how'd you get inside my room?" Of course, there was a small part in the back of the brunette's mind that was telling her not to ask questions she would not want answers to.
The man grinned, showing slightly pointed teeth. His other features seemed to be kind and gentle, as though he had not held a conversation with anyone for a long time. "I'm called Pitch Black" he answered, taking the liberty of sitting on the foot of the bed. His robes spread down to the floor, draping lazily on the wooden boards. "Of course, I'm sometimes known as the 'boogeyman'".
Trista sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. He was the boogeyman? Things like that did not exist though, right? There was a sudden stream of moonlight that illuminated the room. Trista could see Pitch properly now. He had slate grey skin and an angular jaw line. His hair was somewhat short and spiked back. As much as his sudden and initial appearance had disturbed the girl, Trista did not find him particularly scary. "So, you're the boogeyman?" she inquired, beginning to believe what he was saying.
"I am indeed" Pitch confirmed, his golden eyes now resting on the window off to Trista's right. She turned her body to look at the window too, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was only the night sky, thousands of twinkling stars suspended above. Trista turned back towards Pitch and watched as his lip curled into a most menacing smile. She shrunk back, forcing herself back under the covers. His demeanor had changed so drastically, but why? He stood up slowly and made his way towards the window, opening it swiftly. "Well by all means, please come in" he laughed.
A strong wind blew through the room and Trista shivered. She wrapped the quilt around herself, draping it over her shoulders like a shawl. "What was that for?" she managed to say between chattering teeth. Even her long sleeved shirt and fleece pants could not prevent the encroaching cold from seeping into her bones. "It's absolutely freezing in here!"
Jack shot through the window quickly and stood in between the Nightmare King and his sister. He held his staff tight with both hands, the crooked end only a foot from Pitch's chest. "Leave her alone" the winter spirit threatened, his cerulean eyes narrowed. Jack watched as Pitch gave a condescending smirk and stepped forward. He thrust his staff forward, watching as icy sparks flew out. "Don't you come any closer…"
"Or what?" the boogeyman asked, his arms crossed over his chest. "You'll freeze me? I highly doubt you would do that with a child watching, Jack." Pitch's gaze fell upon Trista once more. The girl seemed utterly confused at the current situation. His face lit up, the smirk deepening. "She can't see you, can she?"
Trista looked over at Pitch who was talking to no one. "Who is Jack?" she asked, bewildered at what was happening. "Are you talking about me? My name's not Jack, it's Trista." The girl hugged the quilt tighter around her body. "Of course I can see you" she continued. "I thought we established that earlier."
Frowning, Jack backed up until he was right in front of the teenager. He turned around, his face almost making contact with hers. "Come on, Caroline" he urged, his tone dripping with desperation. "It's me, your brother. Why don't you remember me? Why can't you see me?" The Guardian of Fun waited for any possible response from the girl in front of him, but there was none. She did not believe in him, could not see him.
The Nightmare King laid a hand on Jack's shoulder and gave a light chuckle when the boy shoved it off. "It hurts, doesn't it?" he sympathized, circling the Guardian. The floor boards creaked and groaned as he traveled. "You haven't felt quite like this in a while, have you? All the children of the world believe in you now except this one and it seems like it hurts you terribly." He felt a slight chill crawl down his spine when he looked into Jack's eyes. The boy held such hatred and despair in his narrowed eyes.
Seriously, who was Pitch talking to? Yes, everyone had an imaginary friend at one time or another in their lifetime. Trista could remember a time when she too had an imaginary friend. She had named him Jackson and they used to play together in the woods. Her mother had always asked her about the name, but Trista just felt like his name should have been Jackson. The girl brought herself back from the past as a small gust of icy wind blew past her. "Who are you talking to?" Trista asked Pitch.
"No one" the man replied, watching as Jack leapt from the window and disappeared into the night. So the boy had said he was this child's brother. Pitch decided to remember the small bit of information for the future. Perhaps this girl could be of some use to him. Her disbelief in Jack Frost was evident, but what of the other Guardians? No, he would definitely keep a close eye on Trista. "Well, my dear, I should be off" the Nightmare King said sadly, giving a deep bow. "It was a pleasure making your acquaintance". With that he disappeared.
The window next to Trista slammed shut and the moonlight that had been illuminating the dark parts of the room vanished. Trista shivered, hiding underneath her covers once more. She still was not completely sure of what had occurred, but it was definitely out of the ordinary. The darkness under her blankets was more comforting than what lay in the open space of the room. Eventually she drifted off into a dreamless slumber, unaware of the golden eyes watching her from the corner of the room.
Forgot to talk about this in the beginning so I'll just stick it down here. Limnophobia is a fear of lakes. Just wanted to include the exact definition in here since it's a fear that isn't extremely obvious or well known.
Alright, thanks for reading and sticking with this. I appreciate everyone who has reviewed, followed, and faved this story. I'm glad you're enjoying it. Thank you so much. Next update will be next Friday, January 18th. :)