Hi guys! It's me again. Look, I'm seriously sorry for not being on for like, three weeks! My power keeps going out and my house is over a hundred years old! The only way I've been able to get the web for the last fortnight is by sitting in the old rusted bus back behind our house and trust me, it's not pleasant.
I have been able to keep working though. I saved all my Fanfiction stuff to my USB port and used that to access my stories. Anyway, I've been getting a lot of positive feedback, so I'm happy. Thank you for all the amazing reviews and have a nice day!
Pitch fled.
He ran, faster than he could've ever thought possible. He didn't glide. He didn't Shadow-travel. He ran, through the night and through everything he could, just to get away.
He heard the blood pounding through his head and the impact of his feet against the road. He heard his own breathing, which actually wasn't necessary. Breathing was an annoying human habit he'd picked up, but hardly ever used. Sure, he snorted and inhaled and exhaled, but he didn't need to.
One single thought rang in his ears: I killed a child. I killed a child.
Pitch ran through another alley and turned sharply to the right. He had no clue where he was going. He just ran. His robe splayed out behind him, blown back by the wind. The wind was cold and full of moisture, but the relieving feeling of coolness was lost to him. He couldn't feel his hands, which were clenched in tight fists, and it was all he could do to stop from stumbling on his own feet.
He ran, faster and faster. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to go. Grim was right. He couldn't stay here, in Burgess. It would be suicide, once the rest of the spirits of the world found out what he'd done.
Pitch was scared.
That was what he realized as he ran through the streets of Burgess, passing lamps and trashcans and stray cats. There was no one on the streets at this time of night, which was nearly ten to one. He was completely alone.
I killed a child. I killed a child.
Being alone was one of the most common fears in the world. Pitch had never experienced this type of fear personally, but he could imagine the feeling. Of course, he had been alone for almost ten centuries, but he'd never been afraid of being alone. It was just something that came with the job description, like the bad smell of a garbage collector.
Where will I go? He asked himself. He had no allies. No one ever wanted to work with the Boogeyman. He'd burned too many bridges with the other spirits, and asking a human for help was completely out of the question. Besides, he didn't know any humans, apart from Jamie Bennett, who would call Jack Frost the instant he saw him.
He was confused, alone, and he didn't have a clue what to do. He just wanted to find somewhere to hide.
Now he knew how the children he scared felt. They wanted to get away from him, because they were afraid of him. He was afraid, this he knew, and all he wanted was to get away from Grim, the house, the worried mother, and the body. The dead girl's body. He wanted to get away!
But he couldn't. No matter how far he ran, through the pavement roads and through the street and alleyways, he couldn't run from the image of the dead girl's closed eyes. Her white hair. Her mother's voice.
"Anna?"
Pitch opened his eyes and stared ahead, making sure that he wouldn't run into anything and simultaneously avoiding patches of moonlight. He didn't want to think about what would happen if Manny got a hold of him. He continued to run.
"Anna?"
Pitch saw something out of the corner of his eye. It looked like a patch of bright light. His heartbeat quickened. It was Manny. He was coming for him. Pitch let out an unbidden yell and doubled his speed, but he knew this wouldn't last long. He could feel his energy ebbing away with each step he took. If he tried to shadow-travel and couldn't, he'd be dead.
Pitch's eyes began to water. The bright light was following him, as he'd expected it to, but it was also drawing closer. The bright light was beside him now, on his left. Now that he could see it better, he turned his head slightly and saw that the light was beginning to take a hazy outline. Was it a spirit? No. Too small. A human? Humans didn't glow.
"Anna?" There was the child's mother's voice on the breeze and it whispered in his ears. Pitch shook his head, trying to clear his mind. A trick. That was all it was. A trick of his mind. He didn't really hear a voice or see a glowing hazy figure beside him. It was just paranoia. He was afraid of Manny and so he thought he saw Manny. He'd killed a child, and he kept hearing her name on the breeze. Simple. He'd used these very same tactics for educing fear into children for hundreds of years!
"Anna?"
"It's all just my mind, playing tricks on me." Pitch said under his breath. He turned left at a street corner. "There is no voice, and I cannot see a glowing figure running beside me." Gliding was more the word.
"Anna?"
"Nothing there," He said, trying to drown out the sound.
"Anna?"
"SHUT UP!" Pitch yelled, waving his hands wildly above his head and thrashed from side to side and he ran, trying to get away from the voice but it just kept repeating, over and over again. "Anna? Anna? Anna?"
He was wrong. It wasn't just his mind.
"Leave me alone!" He yelled, tearing wildly through the streets. No one heard him. His voice echoed off the dark alleyways. His eyes were wide and full of fear. The silver in his eclipse eyes were practically none-existent and his mouth was open in a silent scream. The glowing figure- he knew who it was now! That voice! It was the mother of the dead girl!
But, his practical side reminded him. Humans can't glow.
All of a sudden Pitch stumbled on an uneven part of the road and fell onto the street. He couldn't bring himself to get up. All his strength had vanished.
"Anna?" The mother's voice asked. He raised his head painfully and saw the white glow becoming stronger as it came closer. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. The glow was becoming more solid. A body formed. A young girl in a white dress that reached her ankles with black hair and green eyes.
"Anna." It wasn't the mother's voice this time. It was the voice of the dead girl. The voice he'd only heard once, before she'd died. Oh no, Pitch thought. Now it all makes sense. He had to get away! He couldn't face her ghost! He tried to push himself up, but his skinny arms were too weak and he collapsed back onto the ground. He tried again, this time he almost made it to his feet, but he accidentally looked up at the glowing girl and the light blinded him and he fell back onto his knees with a painful thud.
"Anna." The girl's voice said again. It was quiet and sweet, like a lone dove's call. Pitch was kneeling on the ground and he lowered his head.
"I'm sorry," He said. He knew it wouldn't make much of a difference. "I didn't mean to."
"Anna." The girl said.
Pitch tried to keep his eyes lowered, but he couldn't. Something compelled him to look up into the girl's pale face once again. She was smiling.
"Anna." The girl said gently. She was coming closer. Gliding, like he'd done many times over to scare people. It wasn't hard to do, especially for a ghost. The girl was coming closer, and all Pitch's sense told him he should run, but he didn't. He was frozen. She was barely a foot away and she was still smiling. What would she do to him? He knew that malevolent spirits were captured immediately by Grim, but maybe he'd let this one go as a punishment for him. He deserved it, certainly. He'd killed a child. This Anna was the first child ever to be killed by a spirit.
Anna stopped right in front of him and Pitch instinctively closed his eyes. His heart thudded and he wondered what being dead felt like. Did it hurt? Was it like being invisible? He'd known that feeling many times over. He wondered what would happen if she took him to Manny and he revoked the Immortality. Would he be forced to live out his life as a human, or simply cease to exist? Would he be re-born as another being, or would he become a kind of ghost himself? Stuck in limbo. Never being able to rest or eat or die. He deserved it.
He waited. What would she do? Would she take him to Manny, or would she exact her own revenge? Would she tell Grim to send him to the deepest pits of the underworld to rot? He waited.
After a minute, Pitch decided to opened his eyes again. He wondered if she was gone. She wasn't. She was actually an inch away from his own face and when he opened his eyes, he found that he was staring straight into her deep dark green eyes.
Pitch lurched backwards, forgetting he was on his knees and overbalancing with a thud. He was on his back.
Anna glided over to him, still smiling, and reached out a hand.
Pitch was stunned. Was she forgiving him? No, not possible. He'd killed her, just like he'd killed that woman in St. Petersburg and that old man in Italy. He turned to one side and tried to push himself up, but all the strength had been sapped from him while he'd been running.
"Anna." The girl said, smiling. She still had her hand out.
Pitch stared at her hand, then up at the girl's pale face. There was no trace of fear in her eyes. Not that she would be afraid of him. She was dead already, and his powers only affected the living. The living and children.
"What do you want?" He asked her.
She didn't reply. Just stared at him, smiling.
Pitch took the girl's offered hand gently and pulled himself upright. He was surprised when his hand didn't go right through her.
"Please," He said when he was back on his feet. "I didn't mean to." Anna just stood there, staring at him. Pitch's mind was churning. What could he say to the child he'd murdered? "I didn't mean to kill-"
Anna put her right finger on her lips and Pitch fell silent. He began thinking again about if she would haunt him or send him straight to Manny.
"Accident." she said slowly. "It... was... accident."
Pitch felt relief flood through him. She didn't blame him! (Although it had been his fault, really. He knew that, in his black-crusted heart.) Anna continued smiling. Her smile was warm and her cheeks glowed with happiness. Even though she was dead.
"Yes." Pitch said after a few minutes. "It was an accident. I didn't know about your pace-maker. I'm really sorry." The words felt alien in his mouth. He'd never apologized to someone before.
The girl just kept on smiling, like a parent would to a child that had gotten into trouble. It made him feel small and powerless. He hated that feeling, but in this case he just ignored it.
"Forgiven." Anna said, smiling.
Pitch sighed. "I wish it was that easy." He said quietly. "Once the others find out about what I've done, accident or not, they will hunt me down."
Anna's smile faltered. "Hunt?" she asked, frowning. Apparently she couldn't speak in full sentences yet. She must still be getting used to being a ghost and it's mental faculties, Pitch thought.
"Yes." Pitch said. "Hunt. It's complicated."
Anna's bright smile returned and Pitch watched her struggle to form words.
"I. . . keep. . . you. . . safe."
Pitch frowned and was about to ask her what she meant, but Anna wasn't finished. "I keep. . . you. . . safe. I. . . stay. . . with. . . you."
Pitch's eyes widened and the girl held out her hand.
"Friend?" She asked hesitantly.
Pitch's eyes widened further. Friend? Was she trying to trick him? He didn't have any friends! He was the Boogeyman! Children all over the world feared him! He was even worshiped in parts of the world. Granted, those parts were rapidly disappearing, but they were there nonetheless. And she wanted to stay with him? Obviously because she didn't have anything else to do. Grim must've allowed her to stay on earth, rather than go wherever the dead go. Possibly he thought it would be like a punishment for him; seeing the image of the girl he'd killed every day for the rest of his life. Under normal circumstances, it might be. But since the girl had forgiven him he knew it might not be so bad to have someone around to talk to. Particularly if he was going to be hiding from the Guardians in a dank hole somewhere, which was probably what he would end up doing.
Pitch pulled out of his thoughts and saw Anna staring up at him. Her eyes were bright and hopeful. Her mouth tilted up in the left corner and the tips of her white teeth showed. Her black hair hung in shimmering sheets around her tiny ears. Pitch sighed. He was going to regret this. He knew it.
"Alright. Friend." He said, and took hold of the small child's hand.
There were two reasons he chose to humor the small child. One, he didn't want to have her haunting him until the end of his days. Two, maybe he could do with a friend. It had been a long time since anyone had tried to befriend him, and longer still since he'd accepted. Plus, it might be to his advantage to befriend this little girl. She might come to his defense if the Guardians found him- no, when the Guardians found him. He knew they would. It was inevitable.
The girl let out a small laugh and grabbed his gray hand, squeezing it gently.
"Thank you." She said. And she didn't pause, so Pitch assumed she was re-gaining her power of speech very quickly.
"It's been a long time since anyone's bothered to talk to me," Pitch said after she released his hand. "You're the first in a good hundred years."
Anna blinked.
"My name is Pitch Black," Pitch said, bowing slightly.
"Illana." the girl said.
Pitch frowned. "I thought your name was just Anna?" He asked. That was what her mother had called her, after all.
"No. Illana." she said. Then she shrugged. "Too long."
Pitch nodded. Illana was a bit of a mouthful.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Not long after that Pitch went back to his cave. Illana, or Anna, as she preferred to be called, followed.
On the way there Pitch questioned her about things. Did she believe in the Guardians? She did, but only in Sanderson. She hadn't had many Christmas presents from North because her parents bought them each year and brought them to the hospital, and she hadn't been able to go on Easter egg hunts since she was five because of an egg allergy.
"And what about Toothiana?" Pitch asked.
Anna frowned and Pitch clarified. "The Tooth fairy."
Anna said that she got money whenever a tooth came out, but she hadn't thought about who actually took the tooth and gave her the money. She'd assumed it was her parents.
Pitch didn't even mention Jack Frost. That stupid boy didn't deserve any believers.
"What about me?" He asked her as they entered his forest. "Did you believe in the Boogeyman?"
"Yes." Anna said simply.
Pitch nodded, satisfied.
"But not. . . this way."
Pitch frowned, staring at the glowing girl as they walked. "What do you mean?" He asked curiously.
Anna looked up at the Moon, which was shrouded by the trees. Good, Pitch thought.
"Thought you were. . ." She paused, as if searching for the right word. "Demon."
Pitch raised a none-existent eyebrow. "Demon? I'm no demon. I am the King of Nightmares."
Anna nodded silently. She did not say anything more until they reached the hold in the ground that led to his caves.
The broken bed frame was gone, leaving nothing but a deep dark hole. The ideal entryway.
"Ladies first." Pitch said. He'd been born in an era where courtesy was highly valued and, even though he was a different person than he'd been then, he still retained some of his old mannerisms. Among them courtesy. Though he didn't get to use it very often.
Anna nodded and jumped into the hole, feet first. She let out a "WHEE!" As the tunnel carried her down to his home.
Pitch waited for a minute, then shadow-traveled down there after her. He still retained some of his power, though a long rest would no doubt be called for to recuperate.
He appeared in the center of his living room. It was very large and spacious. Pitch didn't have many belongings, apart from things he'd stolen to furnish his much-too-large-for-him home. These things included a black leather couch, a black-wood table, black-wood shelving that was built around the room to hold his vast collection of books, a black rug, a set of black curtains that hung around the bare rock face and a large black television screen, mounted up on the north wall.
Anna saw the screen and immediately her face brightened. "You have T.V?" She asked.
Pitch nodded. "Yes. I don't actually use that thing much. I prefer a good book to watching that ridiculous idiot box. Besides," He mutter ruefully. "There's never anything good on."
Anna smiled and asked for the remote. Pitch gave it to her willingly. It might give him a chance to distract her so that he could either rest or begin to think up a plan to save himself.
"I'm going to my rooms." Pitch said as he watched the girl flip through the channels. "Please remain out here."
Anna waved her hand, too focused on the screen in front of her.
Pitch rolled his eyes and walked back to his room where he closed the door and sat on his bed, thinking slowly and carefully about what he was going to do next.