First of all I would like to thanks you dear –and frequent- reviewer, Takeno, for gracing me with his words of cheers and support. Then, thanks TheChronicLiar, for making me and Jeremy laugh like to retards on the local hospital's halls with her unending sense of humor. And answering the Guests!
PandaAttack2109: I am so happy you like it! I once tried to write seriously, but I always let feelings go on with the words, making it sound quite poetic, yes. I am happy you notice it, and if you read this again, do review again! I would love to know if you're following this and I assure you, I will make the next chapters even more poetic.
AkatsukiHeir: Hahahaha! Makes me reaaaly happy you like the plot. When I wrote the poor summary I just wanted people to come because of the pairing and stay because of the plot. I hope I am successful on that. As for the updates, its mostly one a week, on the Fridays because I know many of us fans work and study, so I post it so everyone can check it on the weekend. Keep reading on!
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Disclaimer: I really hope the ownership to come by Sedex and with a red ribbon on it, but while I don't have it, it isn't mine. I only own the plot and the soul I put on it.
Chapter 4 – Conflict
Feet and body seemed to not follow any pleas his mind screamed in that day, and not on the others even. How long since he had cried with real, wet tears? The last time it was still on the same day he had exiled himself under his own bed, and before that... he couldn't recall any. Oh, lies, there was a few, but sometimes it was of utter frustration and rage, though here, they were but a show of loneliness and sadness.
Weaknesses, he was but a weak whimpering mutt that finally, after having its loyalty rewarded with kicks on the stomach, decides to give up. Not entirely give up, for it knew not how to, but sitting away for a while, to think and rethink its own actions, searching where it made something wrong. He wasn't different it seemed, following his nature of fear he only got hurt, now he had stopped a bit. And this cease of the suffering though, came with a high price, and he regretted it so much.
Oh regret! He regretted everything! He could have fought more, he would make it up all again, fight until he laid dead, not mattering how much it hurt, if he simply knew... he had planned to simply exile himself a bit, if he couldn't fed his Nightmares was because he was at the brink of death, and it happened, the Nightmares and Fearlings would go wild, hunt and fed by themselves. But even MiM couldn't have predicted that North would come and take him from there.
There was no chance of it to happen, why would the mighty Guardian of Wonder lower himself to get him under his bed? He couldn't have predicted. Yet, all he wanted was hit the wall until he bleed, scream to all the winds and lands what an idiot he was, what a stupid, ignorant and selfish king he was! But he couldn't, there was still one for him to take care of, to make it all again. He had collected the black sand, he could do the Nightmares again if he had power, but he had none.
The Fearlings would reborn it the fear was planted again, he wasn't worried about them, but about the Nightmares though, they had died, there was nothing he could do. He felt so lame, far weaker than he had ever been, and the lights on the workshop of North made only his head ache. He wanted his dark, sweet darkness, and do something about his Nightmares, but he could do nothing.
'Self-hatred lead to nowhere, magister. Keep strong, my King.' He could hear his Nightmare saying in his mind, and that only made him close his eyes, it was not like if he was the center of the attention, he could do that sort of thing. The back of his head rested on the big, comfy red chair they had offered him, he had refused though, but his weakness got the best of him
'Maybe I'm just too tired of keeping strong...' He said to his Nightmare on his head, and on his shadows he could feel it moving, like if it had possessed his coat somehow, after all, it was hidden on the shadows of his coat, it would be ever like this and wouldn't change too soon.
The Nightmare was safe on the darkness, no dark or clean magic could bring her out unless she wanted, and while there, no harm could be dealt to her unless it was by starvation of fear, or it came from Pitch. And he wouldn't hurt his Nightmare by nothing of this world.
'Then faulter and rest, I may keep strong for you then.' The Nightmare answered, its essence moving around his stomach like a snake more or less. A snake! Glowed the brilliant idea that for moments made him think about smiling. He wanted his Nightmare to be able to move around him, and a horse was just too big. But he knew of something that could serve just well.
'Darkness praises your loyalty. Would you mind if I changed your form? A horse have no place inside a workshop as busy as that, and I feel like I won't be able to go out too early.' Pitch whispered mentally and if his Nightmare was a human, it would have laughed. A high pitched, evil sinister laughter, but laughter indeed. His hands moved to his coat, at the sides like if there was pockets there, and his fingers held some of the still alive black sand, his Nightmare's essence.
'Neither should you leave. I dislike these Guardians deeply, but they would keep you healthy at least. My lord is proud, won't fall while they are close. About the change, you're the creator, I mind not.' She said and he simply smiled dangerously as the black snake came from the shadows and inside his coat to the outside, coming from his back and warping around his waist, he just noticed how big he had made it when it had nowhere to long anymore and its powerful body moved to his shoulders as well. Four meters with ease, though he didn't meant for it to be that large, he had to compensate for the fact that the horse was big as well.
'You shouldn't carry weight, in this form I weigh almost as much as grown child.' She said in a sort of whisper, the absolute black scales were warm and somehow soft against his skin, pressure being added as she needed to hold on him. Warped on his waist and then over his shoulders she seemed to disappear, mixing with the clothes as some sort of natural cloak.
The body of the enormous serpent was thick on the middle, thicker than his thighs, a snake of pure muscle and strength, which in nature killed the victims by constricting them, consequently breaking their bones and emptying them of air. Usually slow, he knew that his Nightmare was far faster than any other normal creature, and magically lighter. Her whole body couldn't weigh more than a pillow, and as the weight was on his hips, he couldn't feel more than a heavier coat.
'Forget it. Mind that I made modifications, the normal of this kind does not have poison, but you have more than a snake should, so mind it if you bite someone, its death sentence.' He whispered quietly, and her head came to rest on his bare collarbone, the warm scales and the inevitable proximity made he fell safer somehow, wanted. Less lonely, for its not like a horse can be that close. He should have done it before. The eyes glowed completely golden, just like when it was previously a Nightmare.
'Lovely.' She nodded. The fact of his creations being mares and not male horses was the pun of course, and the fun on it, a thing he thanked himself for doing, sometimes when he wanted to hear no one at all, their voices would be softer, calmer than any other in the world could be. He felt like a god, making such wonderful creatures. And also a monster, for letting his only companions die.
"Is that a snake?" The voice broke from no one specifically, but Pitch heard it, and opened his eyes. He could see the Guardians staring at him, and the enormous snake licked the side of his face, the forked tongue felt warm on his skin, and made the answer be answered before he even needed to say something. 'I have a name, fools.' She hissed at his mind. His Nightmares were just as prideful as he.
"It's my Nightmare, but in another form. Say hi Gehenna." Pitch said, an internal pride for his creation. The anaconda move a bit forward and bite the air, the sound of her jaws shutting on the space, showing her lines of sharp teeth, was enough for a lot of people to step backward. The Nightmare returned to rest her head on the Boogeyman's collarbone, the magical black of the creature against the grey of his skin.
"See, it's exactly what I am tryin' to say. He isn't some furry stray kitten, but a treat that you're puttin' inside your house. Fainted is already hard to accept, imagine awake!" Bunnymund was the one to speak, and was when the Nightmare King noticed he lost a wide gap of the conversation, from St. Nicholas kicking doors open when arriving to the disagreement of the Easter Bunny. Stopping to think, it wasn't a gap that big.
"I'm going to tell you the same I told him. The workshop is mine, and having the 'bird of bad luck' will be good. Why you have to be so mean with everything new?" Nicholas said, it was impressive how he seemed to protect the Boogeyman's hide, maybe the man pitied him a lot and decided to don't let himself get with his conscience heavier. Maybe. Pitch hated pity, but he liked attention, so he couldn't tell if it was good or bad. Everything said for him to go away, yet something he knew not made him stay.
"Frostbite?" Bunnymund asked and Pitch's eyes moved to Jack instantly, how he dared speaking of Jack like that? He, not the stupid, arrogant Guardians, he knew the extension of Jack's power, he had felt it on his own powers, when the winter spirit had frozen his Nightmares, he felt it.
He was strong as himself, while Pitch had experience and vastness, Jack was charged with passion and natural talent. The boy was like a mini, reversal himself, different, but the same still.
"I like the idea of Pitch around, it's like they say, 'you can't see better on the dark if you don't stare at it enough'." Jack said like if the boy heard it more than once, and from elders as well, a child that mimicked everything their parents said. Pitch grabbed from thin air and black sand a goblet and it magically was filled with wine, one of the things he loved the most on life.
"Wise words, Frost." The Boogeyman said, raising the goblet in his name. Jack smiled mischievously at that, and without his desire Pitch could feel his own lips curling on a smile.
The boy would be lovely to be around, his opposite twin of ages younger could learn much from him, and the Nightmare King from the boy. The boy amused him deeply without a reason, made him move closer, somehow.
'If he does something bad, it would be better if he did it under our noses.' Sanderson signed, but in Pitch's mind he could hear him clear as the day. Both Kings of Sand, masters in twisting minds, why wouldn't it be possible? He could read him like if it was one of his Nightmares, yet his thoughts couldn't run inside the golden's mind and he couldn't understand them. Pitch could only understand what was supposed to be, it seemed.
"True. It's decided then? Good. Pitch say 'ah' for me please." He heard and almost making the goblet of wine fall for his hand Toothiana was over him, her hands pushed his mouth open as she studied his teeth, she was there before he could even react, he wasn't waiting for it, maybe no one was.
"Sweet dentists what is going on in here?! Your teeth are black! But isn't cavities it seems... oh, they are like that forever? I guess they are, so let's just assume they are black naturally. Hey, are you a guy or a shark? They are sharper than scissors." She rambled and rambled, and he could feel her poking his teeth.
The yell came after, and he definitely smiled to that. His teeth were indeed sharp, not only the canines, but all of them, even the incisors and molars. The best of all was that she had cut herself on them, he didn't even had to bite her.
Jack's laughter simply filled the room. "Pitch did you just bite her?" The winter spirit asked, and the darker simply shook his head, closing his mouth and savoring the metallic blood, just to make it fade with wine.
"He didn't, they are just sharper than I thought." She said with a small smile, and he could feel the Nightmare tightening around his body, almost to the point of leaving purple bruises, she disliked sharing, it he already knew, but surprised him vastly that she was that possessive. He just felt tired from nowhere, exhausted of simply being awake.
"Call down Tooth, I am sure he will let you have a good look in another time, but for now, let's slow down." North was the one to interrupt, and Pitch simply could feel his eyes closing a bit more, the man simply glowed somehow, the red of his coat made him wonder how he was on the light and not under his bed.
Gehenna hissed in the air, sinking her eyes on North as she constricted him almost painfully, licking the borders of acceptable jealousy and harm. Pitch rolled his eyes to the Nightmare, who sighed in his head and return to pose on his collarbone, showing anyone the rights only she had.
Looking at North made Pitch feel tired, if there was one who was good at destroying his plans was North, always easy and soft, but rough like a polar bear. He hated the Guardians, but North wore the crown of hate.
Pitch liked Frost, tolerated Tooth, hated Bunnymund and Sanderson, but to North... it was supposed to be undying flaming hatred, yet he couldn't bring himself to even stare at the man. Why, he couldn't guess, but one thing he knew, the hate somehow was gone, and he wasn't even thankful for being taken from under his bed.
"'Kay, returnin' to the focus, I don't agree, but you know better, mate." The Pooka said, and that made North's smile go even more wide. Sanderson gave thumbs up, and looking to Tooth's and Jack's smile there was no need to question what they thought of it. Pitch simply rolled his eyes, but he knew better than say something when not asked, and simply drank of his wine quietly, the Nightmare's eyes deadly on the Guardians like if she waited for them to attack.
"Thank you Bunny, I'm sure that with Pitch around we will solve that issue soon." North said and Pitch almost chocked on his wine, which he had to sit straighter to swallow it properly. All eyes seemed on him with that feat, and he dried his throat, uneasy.
"Which issue?" He asked, his senses all alert, for if he had something, was a curiosity to know things he knew not, and a nose big enough for him to put on what didn't even concerned him, his enemies' s weaknesses being one of those things. Thanks to that, he was able to take down Sanderson when he fought the Guardians.
"You don't know?" Jack said, blue eyes shimmering like a whole galaxy and he noticed it was far worse than he had even expected it to be. He suddenly wanted to know what it was, needed to know. The dark spirit simply shook his head.
"Since our... fight, fear seemed to have disappeared. First in an acceptable way, but then it became wicked. Children and adults became fearless. I supposed you had something to do with it, that's why I came to your lair in the first place, and found you there." North said and Pitch put his mind to work, pointing things like if they were ingredients on a soup. North hadn't said he had found him under his bed, and for the way he spoke, the man hide it from the others. A good thing, he would hate if the stupid hare annoyed him with it.
His lips became thin, apprehension. His Nightmare had said it, it was already one year and half from his defeat, under his bed, he couldn't tell the time, it felt like an eternity, and a single moment. He simply couldn't tell the time when he was awake, and while he slept there was nothing to count. The Nightmare moved, waiting him to conclude his thoughts.
"All Fearlings and Nightmares were with me, so clearly they couldn't fill the world with fear. It wasn't supposed to happen something of the sort though..." he was going to complete with the fact that he was supposed to fade before it became at this level, but decided against it. If the Guardians hadn't taken him from his lair, he would have faded and the Fearlings and Nightmares would be free, would went rogue and for them on. If they hadn't made a single thing, their problem would be solved. Not that they needed to know that though.
"But you're here now, you can't do something?" Bunnymund asked, and Pitch stared into the Pooka's soul, he hated him clearly, but he would hate to see children being harmed by the lack of fear. Pitch knew the importance of his job, fear somehow, in its dark way, protected people from harm, he just wished he hadn't to be the failure's personification to frighten people and do his dark deeds, which varied to many things.
"I could have simply released the Fearlings and Nightmares back to the world, if there wasn't the fact they are all dead." He spoke, and the dark silence filled the place, Pitch could almost hear the scythe cutting the hope in strips, his deadly, dark shadowy scythe cutting it like if it was butter. Oh how he liked it, but yet, he wanted and could change it. Outside there was a white canvas waiting for him to fill with his dark ink.
"There is no way Nightmares and Fearlings can be made again?" Jack asked and the snake moved, its powerful muscles, sending shivers on his spine as it came to follow his arm and rest its head on it. It was strange, she stood proudly on him like if he was her prize, territorial, all the dark beasts had the tendency to be so, but she was going over what was common.
"Nightmares I made from Sanderson's dream sand or when someone is already with fear on the heart, Fearlings though are a personal touch, they aren't made, they come to existence with a scary happening or simply instincts, or others Fearlings scaring a human, which will make consequently a Fearling to its own. Fearlings are almost personal, they live on the heart and will always live, the thing shall be trigger them again." Pitch explained, and that seemed to put some hope on the hearts of those stupid Guardians.
"Well, how in the moon are we supposed to trigger the Fearlings?" Jack asked, floating and holding his staff over his shoulders. Pitch sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, was he really going to help? He couldn't fade anymore and leave the world without Fearlings and Nightmares, that was sure, so he couldn't do anything besides help. Help by making what he did best. He should have made it before.
"Bringing fear to the heart of children, of men and women, and as there is no one to do that, the chore lies on the Guardian's lap." Pitch said calmly, but inside his mind he was laughing loudly, bending over his stomach on laughter, the pain possessing him cold with such display of humor. The Guardians couldn't scare a single bird out of a post. Right now though, he wanted the Moon to bleed crimson red blood for putting him in this situation, and yet, he should thank it.
"I am not frightenin' innocent children on their sleep. It's good that we've ya 'round then, and bein' good enough to do black magic an' stuff. You should be in your way then, children's lives are in danger." The Pooka said, and his lips were curled on a black smile, he made him so angry, and anger always worked differently on him, so did fear. The Nightmare tightened and Pitch could not even feel it with the burning rage hidden inside but visible on his eyes.
The room seemed darker and he could see the panic and worry flowing from Sanderson, and some anger from Nicholas as well. It felt like an earthquake, and he held the need of blowing out like an explosive.
It was impressive how life seemed easier when he was angered, it was clear and his vision darkened, the opposite what it did when he entered dark places, a beast seemed to take over inside him, was it he? Was it fear? He couldn't tell. But he held himself, and after two seconds of grinning like a cannibal on a surgery he returned to more contained state.
"You speak the truth, I can't simply let those children get hurt, can I? It would be awful if any of them got involved in a car accident in this instant... I can almost feel it, a girl on the street, her mother isn't looking, and she can see a coin...? Yes, a golden shiny coin on the street! Of course her mother won't miss her for some seconds and even if there are many cars around, after that red one there isn't any other..."
"Where?! Tell me you bastard!" Bunnymund yelled, the distance between them disappeared, and the Pooka had his hands on his coat, lifting him from the chair, and Pitch's smirk was almost cutting to became wider.
He became without frontiers when he was angered, and different from other people, when angry he didn't became brainless, he became a monster, but a smart one that can't contain this anger, but won't do foolishness, he knew better. He laughed, half lidding his eyes, drinking on the anger of the Guardian of Hope.
"I can hear... it goes down my spine in a more than pleasurable way... a car braking and a woman screaming on despair." He whispered, and the Guardian shivered, and Pitch simply waited for the punch that didn't come. He opened his eyes to see Sanderson holding the Pooka with his sand, and Nicholas standing on the distance between them. The Guardian of Hope trembled almost as much as Pitch a minute ago.
"You monster! You're a beast Pitch! North should have left you to die!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, and that was like a song. It was true, Nicholas should really have left him. But he hadn't and here he wouldn't endure any arrogance or ignorance without a powerful backfire.
He released the goblet and it disappeared on black sand, the Nightmare on Pitch's body was constricting him enough to leave bruises, and he only needed one word and it would swallow the Pooka by whole.
"Shhh... I want to hear her screams." The Boogeyman answered, the smirk being wide and deep. The Guardian of Hope tried to get him, but from his fellow's grasp he couldn't flee. Better than any of that, was that Bunnymund had started, not him, and he would regret that on the next day. Toothiana's hands were on her mouth, and Jack simply stared wide eyes, not sure if he would hit Pitch himself or hold Bunnymund as well.
"I'll kill ya! I swear! For anything that is sacred in this world you assassin!" The Guardian's scream filled his ears and he sighed, his smile simply couldn't fade. The Nightmare hissed, her mouth still open and showing the fangs to the Easter Bunny. He could feel the shadows on his feet, he could go away, but not yet. He wasn't done.
"Assassin. What a wonderful title. Now, if you excuse me, there is a flesh body for me to check, a child's blood is a useful ingredient to dark magic. So does flesh. And both taste wonderful on my mouth." He said, and their eyes went wide with such thing, cannibalism, he wasn't proud, but sometimes torture wasn't enough, and he needed more from his victims, he yearned for more... and hadn't happened twice.
He stepped into the shadows and disappeared on them, but he could still hear Bunnymund screaming, yelling, kicking. A Guardian's fear was always a good way to fed, and he certainly was stronger than lately.
When he opened his eyes, he also summoned sunglasses, and putting them on so he could shield his eyes and go out of the shadows of a darker alley. The scream was still happening, and some more started to follow. The car finally stopped, and a man when out of it, looking intrigued. The mother ran toward the body of the child and the man simply scratched his head.
Pitch leaned closer to a public phone and searched on his unnoticeable pockets for a coin, and finally finding it, he put it on the phone, with the whisper of a spell for his voice to be heard. He had evaded people on his way, and now looking over his shoulder, he could see more people getting around, but no one calling the emergency. He could do this, it could save this child's life, he knew not if it still lived, he had to try.
"Hello, what's your emergency?" The phone said on his ear and the Boogeyman moved his head around, until he found the sign he so needed.
"A small girl was ran over by a car, I'm on the twelve avenue with fifteen south, close of the beach. Her state is of danger, I must state." He said, as calm as he could be, and the Nightmare around himself moved its head back to stare back, seeing people moving round but none doing nothing, besides the mother that screamed.
"Are you sir related to the accident? A familiar maybe that could grant more information?" The woman on the other side of the line said, the voice robotic on the other side. With a twist of a wrist there was black sand on the area of the accident, and people started to freak out in fear. Within that fear, he could feel the one of the girl, and consequently know who she was.
"No, I was just passing nearby. Her name is Kate Collins, three years old, blood type AB positive. Have allergies to peanuts and bees, hate loud sounds, closed rooms and needles. Her favorite color is bright pink." He spoke in a memorized tune and looked over his shoulder to see the event going on behind him.
"The ambulance is on the way. That information is from a parent?" She asked and Pitch leaned on the public phone, using it to shield himself from the sun.
"Is from her mother. I must go now." He said, and without hearing anything else, he placed the phone on the hang and walked out, making sure of evading people and using his magic on them, trigging the fear as if it was a natural gift, and it was, it really was.
More than once Pitch found himself comparing his being, which he concluded that couldn't be human anymore to a Fearling. He wasn't sure what he was before becoming a spirit, he probably was a human, but in the last century, when he planned his attack with the Nightmares, he started to doubt it. His powers seemed to be of a Fearling indeed, only wider and more powerful, but in the essence they both came from the same pool of energy, fear and darkness.
Some of the things that a human spirit couldn't take was body destruction, when this one's body is fatally wounded or deprived of any sort of food, water or oxigen, spirits would die. He instead unwillingly hibernate, like an organism frozen in liquid nitrogen and simply waited, his body fading as he only lived on a unconscious ethereal form.
Very much like a Fearling. Fearlings had the ability of changing their forms, snakes, bats, monsters that scared children on their sleep, so it could suit it better.
Pitch had felt it before, in a moment of anger that he could become stronger, better if he simply left his anger and need take over, but he wouldn't. If he lost control he certainly would lose what made him different from regular Fearlings. His control. Fearlings were like beasts that, sometimes, when calm, they could think rationally. Pitch though, was able to do so even in rage, if he let it go, it think for him, he wouldn't be King anymore but one of the many instead.
It brought the worst from him, his lower moments were when under this rage and nature's influence, cannibalism, torture and bloodlust was always under it. He became then thrilled under the sight of a corpse, in disgust, want, and fear of himself, the torture for him was almost as easy as sexual pleasure, and bloodlust he overcame more easily, changing the whole thing of painting the hell off with blood to a more healthy love for wine.
He was a monster such his Fearlings, probably the worst of them for being more powerful, yet he worked his body and mind to keep it under control. It was on him, was a part of him, as much as his loneliness, sadness, or simply arrogant attitude.
It was him, so if it was a monster inside him, he was a monster then, not a part of him like if he was sick or had influence of another being. He was a monster, yet a proud one that fought to keep as human as he could.
He moved around the streets, the sunlight of a southern city of United States, he knew it was on the coast but wasn't Florida or Miami neither, so he couldn't tell by sure where he was. He knew it was around noon and the sunlight was killing him, but this amount of fear was keeping him from swooning in exhaustion and tiredness, a thing that the time at noon did to him, as it did to all the Fearlings. Another evidence, it seemed.
Aster Bunnymund wanted him to be useful and go spread his powers, make his feast start and go without ends. He knew Sanderson wouldn't absorb his Fearlings and Nightmares, he had a green card for his mischief for the time being. He smiled widely, like a cannibal on the entrails of a huge man, yes, he should have done it previously on his life, he was free of Guardians on his back to do any dark deed he needed to do.
Redemption? Not sure, but lots of fun to a fallen enemy, definitely.
Lalalala its over! Have a dark chapter, have conflict, have drama, have blood and have a bit of wickedness in the end! That's me, writing! Thanks to all the people said on the start and you fellow reader that make the Story Stats so addicting to check on!
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