Chapter 4: Pitch

Disclaimer: All rights remain with DreamWorks, Cressida Cowell, and William Joyce.

A/N: To those who read this, please leave reviews. It influences my style, content, and how I write this story. It is important to be critiqued. So, even if you do not like this story, please review. I don't mind, anything thing to help me become a better writer is okay.

Also, to those of you who are wondering when Hiccup will come in...let's try 20 years from now (literally.)

I am very lucky to be updating so quickly because spring break is coming, and teachers have decided to slack on homework. I'm sorry, but these constant updates won't last forever.

Pitch watched amusedly from a dark corner as several dozen dragons destroyed the unsuspecting village. He might not have been the one to start the attack, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it. It was too perfect. Without even knowing it, the dragons were helping him feed off the Fears of the people. And oh, it was absolutely intoxicating. Even better, it quickly escalated to the point where it became a mix of the Fear of dragon and human alike.

Pitch's now green eyes sparkled sinisterly as he watched the two races destroy each other. It was, to him, a source of entertainment—like some sort of ancient slapstick or comedy. A dragons would attack a Viking, then a Viking would slice at it with an axe or sword. A Viking would chuck a mace, and a dragon would spew fire. The process would repeat itself and Pitch couldn't help but let his laughter escape. So he fixed his position so he could get a better view while still being comfortable.

"Such primitive creatures," Pitch mused to himself, practically rolling for joy in the chaos.

"You're one to talk," came a gruff reply.

Pitch startled, before spinning around to see a fat, rocky, bumble bee shaped dragons sitting right next to him—lazily licking the gore between its claws.

"What do you want? Don't you have a battle to be fighting?" Pitch griped, glaring at the fat dragon.

The dragon hummed jeeringly. "Oh you're not getting rid of me that easily. If this battle is so dangerous that the praised Night Fury would sit out, then so shall I."

"Well, what do you need of me? Surely I can do something to get you to leave me alone." Pitch snapped, seriously considering just blasting the dragon.

"Your help."

"Now what could I help you with?"

The bulbous dragon gave a nonchalant flick of his head towards the heated battle.

Pitch scoffed. "You want me to fight? Ha. Why would I do that?"

The dragon blinked, clearly puzzled by the Night Fury's sardonic response. "You're the Night Fury! You're supposed to attack the human-scum. It's according to all the legends we've ever built around you." Not to mention that you're to free us from the Queen.

Pitch wasn't even going to ask about those legends, but they did feed his ego a bit.

"Please brother," The dragon pleaded; it was so pathetic that Pitch wanted to slap the overweight dragon with his whip-like tail.

But then, a scam formed in the black dragon's mind. He was called, or seemed similar to a so called Night Fury? Oh how fitting. It was time to have a little fun.

He heaved a bored sigh. "Oh, I suppose; but only this once—and don't expect magic or anything similar to the sort. That would be ridiculous."

With that, Pitch lifted his wings up and surged himself into the air. The wind whipped across his sleek body as he shot through the air like an arrow. Once he reached his desired height, he flipped his tail over his head and pulled into a dive. Surprisingly to him, the aerial maneuvers he was able to pull in flight were coming from instincts; not his instincts, but instincts nonetheless.

Back to the current situation, he waited until the building came into view; then he summoned a plasma blast and pulled up as the fireball continued on its path. He didn't miss his mark—the Viking longhouse. He spun back into the air for another nose dive.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

A fourth.

A fifth.

He bombarded the Vikings mercilessly with his nitro charged fireball, making sure that his high-pitched scream racked the sky and the earth each time. He wanted it to be fair; and by the fifth time, most of them had caught the gist of his attacks and would shout, "Night Fury! Get down!" when they heard his piercing shriek. All the while he was absorbed in their Fear. They were afraid of him. It was too precious.

The dragons cheered, watching Pitch as he occupied the Vikings' attentions with his explosions while they raided for food.

Pitch's thoughts crooned excitedly. Oh, I'm not done yet.

Once again he spun into a dive. His yowl ripped from his mouth as he summoned his fire. The dragons roared with pride and approval as they thought that he would once again terrorize the humans.

Or so they thought.

The fire rippled through the air and smacked the dragons, scattering them and their loot. Bull's-eye.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Confused and betrayed, the dragons flung themselves up into the sky trying to catch the traitor. But the Night Fury was in his elements. His hating cackle filled the air as he circled around them, invisible in the thunderheads. The dragons snarled and howled furiously, searching for him futilely.

"Such dull creatures!" He mocked loudly and laughingly.

"Do not mock us, Fury! We must take you to the Queen so that she might decide what to do with your treachery!" A green, bird-like dragon hissed forcefully.

"Ooo, I'm terrified." Pitch jeered, still swimming in and out of the black clouds.

The green bird-dragon turned to an orange dragon—which looked like a stereotypical dragon. It nodded in turn. With that the sixty-something dragons fanned out forming a U-shape around Pitch. He noticed and used his speed to escape the trap, thankful that MiM at least put him in the body of a mighty dragon. But a lucky dragon caught sight of his actions (Pitch was pretty sure it was the green bird-dragon) and it snapped his jaws at him, forcing him back up into the center of the semi-circle.

With a roll of his eyes, he complied, figuring that he could fight his way off from this Queen.

The dragons left the village area immediately with their perpetrator. Leaving the Vikings to a smoldering, burning place… and a slain chief.

It didn't take much time, but they finally reached the sea stacks and finally a giant mountain. Only then did Pitch begin to become nervous. He flicked his ears and feelers around. His green eyes stared at the many dragons.

"So, this may be my immense curiosity, but where are you taking me?"

But none of them answered. They all seemed to be in a trance. Now that was really disconcerting, so Pitch tried to pull away but, they were all flying tightly—too close together for him to fly up or to the side. Before he could squeeze his wings together to bring himself to dive, all of the dragons crushed together and dove into a tunnel of the mountain they had been flying towards. Immediately a blast of heat hit him; he and the others entered the volcano.

When he got inside, the dragons automatically forced him onto a ledge in front of a huge pit; they were no longer in their trance—in fact they seemed almost restless. Pitch stared at it, the pit, and his body becoming weak and useless with anxiety. His mind was spinning, what was in the hole? Was he to be sacrificed in front of their queen? He was a dragon, so did that mean he was lava proof as well as fire proof?

There was a shocking rumble and ground quaked violently. Pitch made an alarmed face and focused on the fire hole, while demanding of the closest dragon next to him.

"What did you bring me here for? Who is this Queen you speak of?"

A two-headed dragon hissed back at him. "Shush worm, do you want to anger the Queen? You will learn well to hold your tongue!"

"Make sure to bow to her when she appears." Another dragon added quietly.

Pitch scoffed. "I bow to no one!"

:Are you sure, little worm?:A voice roared.

All of the dragons started and most of them went into hiding on various ledges. Pitch shivered. That voice was very much like Man in the Moon's; it was mental, and resounding—it was also definitely a female's. But it was cruel and fierce, not soft and caressing like MiM's. But Pitch would not show Fear to this beast. He was the King of Fear.

"I am sure,"

A ginormous head appeared in the fire pit, gradually pushing its way out. Pitch's eyes widened and his wings sunk to the ground, as an expression of disgust spread across his face. This thing was the queen? He hadn't expected the dragon to be this large. If he had control of his nightmares he would easily be able to control the dragon. But this was nearly impossible.

:Who do you think you are, Little Worm, that you would dare speak to me with such disrespect?:She roared.

Pitch put on his best sneer and cocky smirk. "I am Pitch Black, Prince of Darkness and Nightmare King. And let me tell you that title is something more than you could ever hope for."

The big Queen surprisingly laughed; it shook the entire mountain.

:That is a large title for such a little dragon. And I highly doubt that the Monstrous Nightmares would let you be their king.:

"Not those Nightmares you oaf." Pitch snarled, although unsure of which dragon was the Monstrous Nightmares. "I am king of the nightmares that haunt your dreams; the nightmares that suck the very happiness out of your sleep."

Then, suddenly, a new voice came. :Pitch, caution.:

"MiM?" The nightmare dragon asked almost hopefully.

But the voice had gone as quickly as it had come.

:Oh Little Worm, little Pitch Black, Now it is time for you to know my name. My name is Avara, the Red Death.: The Queen jeered, as if expecting for that name to instill Fear into the heart of the Night Fury.

"Ooo, I'm so scared. The Red Death. What was wrong with the color green?" Pitch mocked, but expression deadpanned. "Did your sire come up with that or did you?"

Avara, the Red Death, snarled loudly shaking the hollow mountain again. Rocks fell from the ceiling and the ledges; the dragons huddled closer together in their hiding spots. The feared Death.

:You have a special fire, Little Worm:She growled admitting. :You will be fun to break.:

"It will not happen I assure you." Pitch laughed smoothly.

He allowed his laugh to bounce off the walls of the caves. The dragons cringed back at the noise. To humans it sounded like a shriek, but to the dragons it sounded like his normal cackle. Chilling and frightening and the last thing he had to remind himself that he was the Boogeyman.

The Queen just laughed.

:I see great potential in you, my little Pitch Black—:

"I am anything but yours." He growled warningly.

:And we will see what service you have to offer me, you will be very valuable to me if you do well. Already I have heard reports of your incredible speed, strength, and pow—:

"Rumors," he interrupted again, disliking her praise.

:power,: The Red Death finished frustrated. :You will become my little slave, and you will do great things. Together we will destroy the humans and rule to world like dragons were meant.:

Pitch laughed again. "Do you really think you can scare me? I am Commander to Fear!"

But the same voice from earlier softly murmured, :Not anymore Kozmotis Pitchiner.:

:We shall see Little Worm, we shall see.: She rumbled, leveling her head with him, so that all six eyes were staring straight at him.

"Stop calling me Little Worm! I am Pitch Black!"

The Queen rolled her eyes and whispered gently, and almost seductively. :Stare into my eyes, Pitch Black. Stare into them.:

"What? Do you really think I will—" He started, but it was too late. He had hesitated for a moment and looked her full on.

At that moment, a presence wormed its way into his mind, trying to take control of his body and his mind—trying to control him. His body contorted into horrible shapes as he tried to fight off the unwanted presence.

The Queen gave him a toothy grin, as he yowled in pain.

Pitch screamed and screamed as he started to go unconscious. The presence overtaking him with no mercy, and no relentlessness.

:Kozmotis.: