Hey guys, I'm baaaaack! After a short two weeks of work and attempting connections with all of my bestest buds- among them the wonderful Starskulls, who I completely forgot to thank in the last few chapters and I am so sorry for that sweetie! You know I love you all equally and am so glad that we were able to talk yesterday! You- star, and all of you other readers and writers out there who helped me with this story will always be the heart of this story.
Alrighty then, let's get this show on the road! The next few chapters will be quite the rollar-coaster I guarantee! Hope you enjoy it!
Karma is a bitch. This I have learned. Really. How else can you account for all the frikking bad luck I've suffered including and not limited to: losing my memories, getting kidnapped, and every single flipping escape attempt that I made failing miserably! Really, all I needed to do was to wait for that Onyx horse thing to leave, make sure no one else was there and then I would've been easy-out of here! But NOOO, Karma decides to wreck all my careful planning and then add insult to injury and slap me in the face.
Well, technically it had been the other guy that had gotten slapped in the face, not me. And, to be honest it hadn't been that much careful planning. Those chains had been child's play to slip out of, once I changed my shape.
Maybe I'd better take a few steps back.
After the cryptic conversation with Onyx, I was left to my own devices for the better part of three or so hours. It might've been more, since I had no means of judging time, but regardless I chose to use those few precious hours of privacy to try and come up with a plan to get my ass out of here. It wasn't easy.
My body was still weak from the forced Change it had undergone and I was pretty sure I had a few minor injuries, among them a broken rib and bruises galore. That in itself put a hitch in my planning almost form the start, and it didn't help that every time I moved I felt shooting pain arise in my chest, pressing down on it and making me gasp for air.
Basically, I was helpless in the current form. He had made sure the cuffs were tight, not tight enough to cut off blood circulation, but tight enough that there was no way I was slipping them off while I was like this. Which meant that I would never be able to get out of here, unless I did something drastic and painful. Namely, Changing into someone smaller. I knew I wasn't going to like it, but what choice did I have? And so I Changed, back into the slimmer, more wiry form of the young girl in raggedy clothes, thinking only of getting out of those annoying cuffs but instead, Changing my shape gave me access to so much more!
The process itself hurt like hell- I mean, what can you expect from something that squishes your bones and re-molds your face? –but soon it was over with and I was left gasping on the black bed, trying to quell the shaking that normally followed my changing while simultaneously trying not to throw up as my organs realigned themselves inside me. It was only after everything was back in its proper place, however, that I realized something was missing.
The pain.
All the previous agony that I had experienced, all the physical trauma from the fighting and the running, was gone. And all I was left with was a slightly sore feeling which would go away after a few minutes.
I lifted my hand to my chest, pressing down gently on my rib cage to test if I was imagining things. Nope. I wasn't. The broken rub was MIA, the bruises too. I even checked my head and the goose egg that had been slowly forming throughout the night had vanished without a trace.
I fell back onto the pillows, grinning to myself. "Well, this is interesting." I murmured to the darkness, slipping my skinny wrists through the cuffs without issue and rubbing the spots where it had scraped against the skin tenderly. "Maybe my luck is changing after all."
I…should…have…bit…my…tongue.
Straight up. From that moment on, things went from bad to worse.
I spent about an hour walking around the room, testing my limits by sprinting from one end of the little cavern to the other in short little bursts of energy and punching the pillow on the bed. I even stretched a little. I needed to be ready at a moment's notice, and for the longest time I stood beside the door, listening to the soft sound of Onyx breathing outside. I knew there was no way I could get out of here with her around, so after about ten or so minutes I retired back to the bed and pretended to still be chained up. My theory is, if I couldn't outrun the horse, then at least I could try to outrun her master.
And…well…you know how that turned out. Lots of running and screaming, me getting knocked on the head– again! –and so yeah, I ended up back on the bed, chained up. Same old same old. Only this time when I woke up, it was less than pleasant.
The first thing I saw was, of course, darkness. I say of course because I was turned away from the only light source in the room and my face was buried in a pillow. What I heard, however, was a different story.
Two voices, one male, one female. That guy Pitch and Onyx, I guessed. They were talking far away from me, and in hushed tones, presumably so that I wouldn't over-hear whatever they were planning for me. I stayed as still as I could, trying not to breathe too fast so that I could at least hear some of what they were whispering.
Most of it was Onyx talking, and as I listened to her words I realized that she was reporting all the things I had said to her earlier to him!
That dirty rotten snitch, I thought ruefully. Just wait 'till I get out of here. I'm gonna dye her mane pink and turn her into a plushie!
But strangely, he didn't seem to be as interested in me as before. Not me me, as in who I was, but more interested in whither I was OK or not.
"Get any medical…you can…Onyx." He told her, his voice anxious. "Steal it from the Pole if you must, but she can't…" His voice trailed off and I felt myself tense. Did he know I was awake?
As soon as I heard the footsteps coming towards me I knew it was true. I shut my eyes, slowing my breathing down to a crawl even though my little lungs cried out in agony but I forced myself to keep the pace. Please, I pleaded with whoever the hell was listening. Please let him think I'm still asleep.
My prayers fell on deaf ears.
"You know," he said quietly. I heard a creak and felt the bed sag slightly as he sat down. "When pretending to be asleep, it is advisable not to hold one's breath."
I didn't react. Maybe if I ignored him…
"You might as well give up." He told me, sounding amused now. "I know you're awake. I can smell your fear."
What kind of a creep says that?! I can smell your fear; sounds like a line from the Hunger Games or something!
I felt a hand resting on my shoulder. "Come on, wake up dear." He said gently, as if he were speaking to a beloved family member and not a captive. "I can't let you sleep any more or else your soul will be pulled into the Void."
That got my attention. "What the hell?" I muttered, rolling over to look at him through my half-lidded eyes. Void? What the hell was a void? Was he saying he was going to take my soul?
He smiled and brought his hands together once in a resonating clap that rang in my ears for a good five to ten seconds before it faded. "She lives," he said dryly, smiling down at me. His eyes were bright and in the darkness, his teeth gleamed. "You gave Onyx and me quite a scare, hitting your head like that."
I gave him a dubious look like, I scared you?
He chuckled. "I know, I know you don't believe me, but I really am glad you're alright." He tried to lay a hand on my shoulder but I shirked away and shot him a warning look. He ignored it. "Listen, I am sorry about what the Nightmares did to you." He told me, gripping my shoulder tightly and staring straight into my eyes with a look that was so sappy and remorseful that it made me want to gag. "I didn't mean for it to happen, and you can rest assured that I will not allow it to happen again."
I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Yeah, sure."
His eyes narrowed and he almost looked like he was insulted. "I have been trying my utmost to keep you safe, but I can't keep doing that if you keep trying to escape! Trust me child, you need my help to survive in this world."
I rolled my eyes and turned my back on him, not in the mood for a sermon. I don't need his help, I thought firmly. I don't need anyone's help! I can make it on my own!
I heard a sigh from behind me. "I know what you're thinking," he told me.
I snorted.
"No really. You're thinking that you can fight the whole world on your own, without a single bit of help. You don't need anyone else." He moved around until he was facing me again. "I know," he told me softly, staring into my eyes. "Because I felt the exact same way before I found my family."
I snorted again. Yeah, right.
He was sitting on his knees, kneeling in front of me on the ground and making me feel much taller on my perch, but when I snorted he straightened up slightly so that he was eye to eye with me. "I won't force you to let me in," he told me, his eyes trapping mine. I could not look away. There was something in those eyes that forced my own to match his gaze. Something compelling me so strongly that even as he continued speaking, I couldn't take my eyes off him. "Goodness knows I wouldn't have when I was a young spirit, but I do hope that, eventually, you will at least give me a chance to get to know you."
I sighed tiredly. Look, bub, you're a weirdo and, as much as I like weirdos, you kidnapped me. We are not going to become BFF's and sing Kumbaya. No way in hell. Sorry. Maybe Onyx will let you be her friend. You already seem pretty close.
I could tell by the hopeful look in his eyes that he hadn't understood a work of my thoughts. Odd. He seemed to be pretty good at reading my expressions before. "Well?" He asked, smiling. "What do you say?"
I gave him a cheesy, nervous half-smile that was the fakest I could muster. I say, you're going to get a lot more bruises in the future pal.
His smile turned into a fully-fledged grin. He reached forward, bending at the waist and tousled my hair. I resisted the urge to bite him. "Well, I guess that's a start." He said, standing up and making his way back around the bed. I followed him with my eyes, keeping my clenched fists hidden beneath my blanket. If he touched me one more time, there would be hell to pay. "Now, I had better go. You look like you need a little bit of rest. I'll come back in a few hours with your breakfast and then maybe we can talk more."
I nodded, that fake smile still plastered across my face. Yeah, sure. Let's talk about how good your head will look on my wall. The smile faltered for a second as I reconsidered my words. Jeez, I'm getting kinda violent. Maybe I should cut down on those nasty comic books.
He smiled and reached forward to shake my hand, but I pulled my hand back and it took all my willpower to keep my face straight. I shook my head.
He hesitated for a minute, then pulled his hand back and nodded. "That's alright. I understand that these things take time." He glanced back at the door. "Now, I know you don't much care for the Nightmares," he told her as he straightened up gracefully. I snorted as if that were an obvious fact. "But I will have one guarding you at all times. If you need anything, I'll be right down the hall in my library. OK?"
I nodded, knowing that the library was a lot farther than just down the hall. I allowed myself to say, "OK." Back to him, though I did it as softly as I could without going fully silent.
He nodded, grinning. "I have a feeling this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship my dear," he said, still beaming as he turned around and headed for the door which he opened. I heard him say something to the horse that I'm sure was standing outside like a good little guard before wheeling around to look at me once last time. "Pleasant dreams." He bowed his head once cordially, like a prince after a dance, then left.
I glared at the closed door, the click of the lock echoing in my ears. "I hope you get some sleep too," I told the empty air. I almost winced at the venom in my own voice. "Because it'll probably be the last sleep you're gonna get for a while."
XXXXXX
Pitch was still beaming as he headed back to his library. His smile stretched wide across his face, wider than any smile he could remember. There was a warm, fuzzy feeling radiating from the center of his chest that encompassed his entire being, making his strides longer and giving him a little spring in his step. So much spring, in fact, that he could barely control himself as he practically danced down the corridor. And he knew exactly what it was.
"Progress!" He told himself, practically giddy at the thought. "We've made progress! She's talking to me, she's talking to Onyx, soon she'll be telling me all about herself and I can finally help her!" Jubilation spread through his system and by the time he opened the doors to his library, crossed the threshold and sat down in his chair, he almost wanted to hug something. And, as anyone knows, the Boogeyman is normally not the hugging type.
"It's strange how much one single action can affect the psyche of a person," he murmured, picking up one of the books that he had left in a pile beside the chair and opening it. It was just another one of his many books on mythics. "Then again," he continued, standing up and picking up the first few volumes from the mountain of books and stacking them in his arms so that he could put them away properly. Never let it be said that the Boogeyman doesn't keep a clean library. "Losing the Nightmare war was what brought me into the Guardians' family."
In retrospect, it was the little things that really made life. That was true now more than ever, especially in light of recent events. If he hadn't left the caves that particular night what felt like years ago but, in reality was only a few days, he would never have met the girl and then she would still be out on the streets, trying to discover her purpose.
Pitch wandered around in the stacks for a bit, replacing books back into the lonely gaps they had left amongst their fellows and thinking about this theory with a smile on his face. There were a few he decided to keep out for easy access, mostly ones he hadn't finished reading, but the rest went back on their shelves carefully.
He smiled, trailing a hand along one of the thick volumes. "I love this place," he murmured, inhaling the thick, musky odor of old books. It was true. He hadn't appreciated it much before, but ever since he had built this place, his library was always the one place he could go to think and relax where the Nightmares wouldn't bother him. The one place he could be at peace with himself. "I hope I can take her here someday." He murmured. Then he stopped. "Good grief, I'm already starting to think of her as a friend and I don't even know her!"
Once Pitch had put the majority of his books away, he retired back to his warm chair in front of the fire. But, instead of picking up a new book he hadn't read before, he chose to simply close his eyes and be enveloped into the warmth and comfort of the chair. His mind drifted with idle thoughts and as he slowly slipped away into the welcoming arms of sleep he found himself praying to Manny that her good mood lasted and that they would finally come to an understanding.
Sadly, he didn't specify just how soon finally would be. And as a result, she continued trying to escape.
And, because she had a demonic sense of humor and apparently enjoyed seeing him in psychological torment, she decided to space them out throughout the next few weeks leading into February.
The next time she tried to escape was a day later when he showed up with her dinner. He had visited her several times in between the time he had last seen her and then, but both of those times she had been asleep and he had just laid the tray of food on the floor beside her bed for when she woke up. Onyx took care of the rest. But this time, when he arrived with a tray full of spaghetti and meat-balls, she wasn't even there.
Pitch opened the door slowly, taking care not to slam it and startle her. "Good morning," He called, his back to the bed as he gently closed the door. Only when he turned around did he realize that he was talking to an empty room. He dropped the tray, the echoing clang resonating throughout the chamber and bellowed for his steed. "ONYX!"
The Nightmare thundered through the door, skidding to a halt beside her master, her nostrils flaring as she looked around for trouble. What is it Pitch? Did she attack you again? She asked, looking around the room feverishly.
Pitch wheeled around to face her, the food forgotten. "No, it's worse than that. She's gone. Again." He gritted his teeth savagely. "Gone, while you were supposed to be watching her!" He punctuated his words by raising a threatening finger and pointing it at her.
Onyx backed up, watching the finger pointed straight at her muzzle as if it were a gun. I'll go after her right away Pitch, she said, hoping to flee the room before he got any more angry. She succeeded and, after a lot of yelling, screaming, running and dreamsand blasting she ended back up in chains.
But it hadn't ended there. Oh no. As the days passed, she became increasingly more difficult to deal with. The warm, fuzzy feelings had long-since faded and some days Pitch was forced to leave her alone for hours at a time to keep himself from ripping his own hair out with frustration. Every single time he tried to talk with her, she would either glare at him stonily and not say a word or she would close her eyes and ignore him completely. And the few times where she did respond they were short, bittersweet comments that she spat out like globules of acid.
Such conversations went something like this:
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"I have extended my hospitality to you, taken you in and helped you in ways that no one else could. And the only thing I ask is that you speak to me."
"Leave me alone."
"Aren't you ever going to tell me your name?"
"Screw off."
"You know quite a lot of curses for such a young spirit."
She then proceeded to display just how robust her vocabulary was by reciting an entire five minutes worth of curses alphabetically. And when she was done he leaned back, more impressed than anything.
"Can you teach me some of those?"
"Get stuffed."
And it only got better from there.
The next time she tried to escape, she wasn't even detected until about an hour afterwards and when they did, it was only because of pure dumb luck. And the fact that Pitch could hear her screaming all the way from the library.
He jumped to his feet, knowing those screams. He swore and whistled for Onyx who appeared instantly, barreling through the double doors. He hauled himself up onto her back and spurred her forward without a single word, his internal fear radar already honing in on the burnt lavender aroma of her fear. "Hurry," he hissed in Onyx's ear as they thundered down the corridor. "There's no knowing what kind of trouble she's gotten herself into this time!"
Trouble was right. They followed her scent past the hot springs and into the deeper, darker caverns that lay beneath the surface. "Come on, come on, tell me where you are dammit!" He growled, listening and trying to sift through the aromas of his and Onyx's own fear. It was clear that she had wandered down here in attempt to leave, but as the slimy rock walls grew slimier and Pitch was forced to use the light of Onyx's bright eyes to see in the dark, he found himself wondering just how damn far she had gone?!
Pretty damn deep as it turned out. Pitch was just starting to notice the lava flowing through the rock walls on either side of him when he heard her screams again, very close at hand. He spurred Onyx harder, his only thoughts for her safety and when he finally tracked her down he found her running like a bat out of hell, screaming like a banshee with her hands flailing wildly.. It looked like she was being chased by something, but Pitch couldn't see what until it barreled out of the same tunnel opening she had.
It was a giant spider, bigger even than the one that had attacked him and Tooth. And, to make matters worse, this one looked severely pissed off at having to run a mile for its meal. Its mandibles were the size of elephant tusks and the legs alone were like giant, hairy tree trunks. But the body, now that was something that sent a slight shiver down the Boogeyman's spine. Even sitting atop Onyx's towering six foot frame with an attritional three and a half feet of his own height, the thing still managed to loom over him with a menacing presence that would've made any sane person turn tail and run.
As soon as he saw the spider he leaped off of Onyx's back and landed smoothly, ready to come to her aid. "GET BEHIND ME!" He roared, raising his hands and shooting bolts of nightmare sand in an effort to knock the creature out but all his efforts were in vain. The creature just kept lumbering forward, pinchers clicking like the tolling of a death bell. The girl, who had been racing like a bullet towards him, dove for cover and remained behind him, whimpering and sobbing.
"Don't worry," he told her, trying to sound reassuring as the spider galumphed towards him, each thundering step making the ground beneath them quake. "I'm here, you're safe. Just let me kill this thing and I'll get you back to safety."
Despite her terrified state, she made a grunting noise that suspiciously sounded to him like a snort.
"Well, who asked you!" He grumbled, wheeling around to face the onslaught. "Maybe this'll teach you to stay put!"
By all accounts, the fight was one that he would remember for a long, long time. It had been better than the last spider he had fought- even though that one had nearly killed him. This one hadn't been quite as smart or as fast as the first, leaving itself open to attacks and giving him plenty of opportunity to strike powerful blows. The problem was, the thing was durable. It was a ten thousand pound behemoth of webbing and fury, and it did not take well to being annoyed.
Pitch tried to use his sand on the thing, but he might just as well have been trying to turn moonlight into mushrooms for all the good it did. The creature just kept on coming, no matter how many gashes his weapon created the damn thing just would not go down!
Finally, he realized that he couldn't fight this thing alone and told Onyx to go get the others. This level is going to be sealed up tighter than a drum after I finish here, he told himself firmly as he parried a languid strike the spider dealt with one of hits front legs. No more testicle-eating spiders in my caves, that's for sure!
Not that he knew for sure this was the aforementioned spider. For all he knew, that whole thing had been a joke on Tooth's part. Though really, she didn't seem like the type to make those kinds of jokes.
It took Onyx what felt like ages to round up all the Nightmares she could and bring them back down here, but when they did the horses encircled the giant spider, each of them positively itching for a fight. Most of them were scratching their front hooves against the ground in anticipation and as soon as they had it surrounded, Pitch's attention fell back onto the girl.
He dropped to his knees, hissing his hands on her shoulders and shaking her gently. "Girl, girl speak to me!" He shook her again, harder but it was no use. She had fainted. He sighed and gathered her up into his arms. She was back in the first guise he had seen her on, only she looked much more beat up and tired. Her hair was a nest of spider's webbing and dirt, so much so that he couldn't tell what color her hair was and enough cuts on her face feet to make him think she had been running through a glass hedge.
After staring down at her face for a minute, watching for any sign of fear but finding none, he turned back to the Nightmares and the spider which was trying to break through the ring of sand but failed with each attempt. The Nightmares rebuffed it back each time, raising their hooves and slamming them down onto the ground as a warning not to come any closer. "Onyx!"
Onyx looked up expectantly.
"You know what to do." He told her, nodding curtly. "When it's done, set four guards here and come find me so that I can seal the tunnel."
Onyx bared her teeth and even though her eyes were nothing but soulless pits of flaming golden light, there was a glint in them that conveyed nothing less than pure, sadistic glee. My pleasure Pitch. She said, nodding her head before unleashing a furious war cry that echoed throughout the cavern and charging the spider. Her fellows did the same and soon a giant loud of black sand erupted from the center of the room as the over fifty furious demonic horses attacked the spider with everything they had. Even if spiders wouldn't scream, this one let out a shrill hiss like steam coming out of a kettle as wave upon wave of nightmare sand cascaded over it, enveloping it like a tidal-wave.
Pitch turned his back, knowing what came next. The horses would go inside the creature and probe its deepest thoughts and find all its fears. Even a giant spider had fears, after all. Then they would latch into the fear and contort it, turning it into a living thing that would slowly eat away at the spider from the inside. It wasn't a pretty sight, and he had no interest in seeing it again.
So, he took her back to her room and tucked her in. Then he gave her a small dose of dreamsand to chase the darkness of what she had seen away. With any luck, he thought, watching her face twitch as her nightmares were re-imagined into dreams. She'll just wake up and think it was all a bad dream.
Wishful thinking.
He sat there for hours upon hours, just watching her, still as a statue, waiting for a single sign of life other than her slow breathing. After the first two hours, he got bored and started going over what he would say to Tooth in the event that she found out about the girl. It would have to be very flattering, and very carefully worded.
I can't just out and out tell her that I have a spirit chained up in my home, she'll think I'm off the deep end! He argued with himself petulantly. But, if I do tell her and do it in a tactful way-
Oh sure, he rolled his eyes. Like there's a tactful way to say that I've got another spirit chained up in my caves.
"What if I just told her the truth?" He wondered aloud, staring at his fingernails thoughtfully. "Straight-forward, no beating around the bush? Would she believe me?" Maybe. Probably not though.
But with the girl as evidence…
EVIDENCE?! His mind screamed at him. He winced. Evidence?! She's a spirit, not a blood spatter!
I know, he argued. I know. I'm just saying that with her here Tooth would be more inclined to believe me!
He sighed. "Sometimes I think I still have another soldier inside my head, telling me all this crap." He muttered, glancing back at the sleeping girl. He hadn't noticed it before but, looking at her like this- all calm and peaceful, underneath all the muck and grime she was actually quite pretty. He reached forward to move a strand of muck-soaked hair away from her face. As soon as his fingertip made contact with her skin her eyes popped open. She let out a shrill scream that sounded somewhat like "Spiders!" and before Pitch even knew what she was doing, she was latching onto him like a lifeline, her hands around his torso and her face buried in his collar-bone.
Pitch sat there, frozen for a moment, wondering what he should do. Every paternal instinct brought on by his association with Seraphina and Jack that he possessed screamed at him to hold her close and comfort her, but somehow he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
Just do it! His mind raged at him. Come on, show her you are a good man! Prove it by comforting her, being kind to her! She's just a kid for Moon's sake Pitch!
I… I…Pitch mentally stammered, the shock of the situation making it very hard for him to speak.
Thankfully, the pressure to make his choice was soon taken out of the equation altogether when, evidently realizing her position, she lurched backwards and fell on her behind which shook the bed. She had thrown her hands out behind her to break her fall, and once she found her footing she scurried backwards like a frightened puppy.
Pitch's whole demeanor instantly changed. "Please, I'm not going to hurt you," he told her gently, leaning forward to reach out his hand to try and calm her down but she took a swipe at him and he pulled back. "Listen to me, there's no shame in being afraid." He spoke softly, so as not to startle her any more than she already was. Maybe this time she would finally speak to him, not just in fragmented words but in real sentences! "Especially of a giant spider." He accompanied this with what he hoped was a supportive smile and he thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, as if she was wondering whether to trust him or not. Then the glimmer vanished and she snarled, baring her teeth.
"Go away!" She snarled.
Pitch shook his head. "No."
She tried to turn her back on him but the chains prevented her from turning more than forty degrees. She growled and tugged at her chains. "Let me go dammit!" She yelled, yanking furiously at the chains. Then she yelped and her left hand flew to her right wrist as if it had been burned.
Pitch moved forward on the bed, concern flaring up. "Are you alright?" He asked, eying her wrist.
She snarled and pulled away. "Fine! Go away!"
But he could see form the way she favored the arm that something was definitely wrong. Using his lightning-quick reflexes, his hand shot across the bed and his spidery fingers closed around her skinny arm just above the wrist. She started to balk and thrash, desperately trying to pull away but he simply grabbed her by the shoulder and said firmly, "I am not trying to hurt you. Now let me look at it."
In spite of his warning the girl continued trying to struggle, but after only a few minutes of fruitlessly trying to wiggle her arm free she gave up with a disgusted sigh and held out the arm sulkily. He nodded.
"Good, that's better." He unlocked the cuff that bound her and it dropped to the bed with a dull thunk, revealing thin wrist that had been rubbed raw by the constant chafing of the cuffs. There were bruises too, and angry-looking welts that were full of liquid bubbling up from beneath her skin like suds. He gasped. "Oh my gods, why didn't you tell me about this?!" He demanded, glaring at her.
She quickly ducked her head, letting her hair fall in a curtain to cover her expression, but not quick enough. Pitch saw a glint of scarlet and frowned. Is she…blushing? He leaned in and gently moved her hair back from her cheeks. Yes, she was definitely blushing.
"Why are you blushing?" He asked, puzzled.
He felt her wrist tense and glanced down to see her fists had clenched. Then he realized. She wasn't blushing because she was embarrassed, she was blushing angrily out of shame.
He sighed and put his large hand over the one he held. "Listen to me girl," he lifted his other hand to her chin and raised it up until he was looking her straight in the eye. "There is nothing for you to be ashamed about. Nothing. Do you understand me? Not the spider, not the cuffs, not your fear. Especially not your fear."
She gave a disbelieving snort and some of her hair rippled in the air.
He smiled kindly. "I lived in fear for quite a long time, little one. Fear of life, fear of death, fear of myself. But I was able to over-come that fear- with the aid of family and friends." He added. "And I'm sure that, given time, you'll find a way to beat your own fears. Everybody does."
She didn't move or make a sound.
He nodded. "There, now that I've said my piece on that," he raised her wrist to eye-level. "I think we had better take care of these, don't you?"
The girl rolled her eyes.
Pitch matched the eye-roll and topped it off with a smile. "Spirits can't die of old age you know, but we can be killed in battle by wounds or, in this case, infection. And believe me, you really don't want to get this infected."
She raised an eyebrow as if to ask, so, what are you going to do about it?
He thought for a minute. Those welts would have to be purged sooner or later, and when they were she would be in a lot of pain. That was one thing he didn't want. "Would you let me put you to sleep?" He asked her, trying not to make it sound that bad. She gave him an incredulous look. "It wouldn't be permanent," he told her crossly, annoyed that she would even think such a thing. "Just long enough for me to purge the welts and bandage them." She shook her head firmly. He tried appealing to her sense of logic. "It's just that I don't want you in pain and that would be the best way-" he broke off. She was shaking her head.
"No." She said firmly. "No. You do it, you do it now. With me awake."
Pitch blinked. It was the longest sentence he had ever heard her say to him. "A-alright." He stammered, slightly unnerved by her willingness. "But I should warn you, without being knocked out it's going to hurt. A lot."
She grimaced, then nodded firmly. "Just do it."
He sighed a little sheepishly. "Well, I can't actually do it yet. I need to go get something to help with the pain, but I'll be back as soon as I can be, alright?"
She nodded jerkily, as if it hurt her to move.
He looked guiltily at the welts, then up at her face which was twisted in repressed agony. He couldn't imagine the agony she was feeling right now. Bruises, broken bones, concussions- not to mention the emotional trauma, and now she would have to deal with him slicing open her wrist and letting puss drain.
OK, so maybe he did understand exactly how she was feeling. But that didn't make him feel any less rotten for causing it. All of the injuries she had sustained in the few weeks she had been here, all the pain and suffering she had gone through, was his fault. And he could not make that up. Still…he figured he might as well try.
Pitch reached forward and took her hand in his. "Please believe me when I say that I am so sorry for what you are going through. Truly I am. I never meant for you to get hurt and I hope that, someday, you can forgive me." Then he let go of her hand and stood, heading for the door. "I trust I can count on you to stay put until I get back?" He called over his shoulder and he swore he heard her say, trust is for fools. "Well, in any case, Onyx will be right outside this door the entire time until I get back."
He reached the door and turned back, just in time to see her curse and flop back onto her bed.
"Now now," he chastised. "If you burst those welts before I get back you're going to be in a lot more pain than you would've been if you had waited."
But she wasn't listening. She had closed her eyes, and the slow rising and falling of her chest told him that she was trying to go back to sleep.
He nodded. Good. That might keep her out of trouble until he got back. He turned around and vanished, not through the door, but through the shadows that surrounded it and reappeared almost instantly in one of North's guest rooms at the North Pole. This one, by contrast to the ones he normally showed up in, didn't appear to be used at all. And that was good. Pitch had meant to appear in the closest room to the infirmary, which would logically be the least-used room. That way he could get in, grab the salve that Baby Tooth had brought to Tooth what felt like years ago, that day when he had been wounded by the spider, and get out without anyone ever noticing him.
That was the plan anyway. And, for the first few minutes at least, it was working perfectly. He managed to sneak from the room into the infirmary, grab the salve which was thankfully labeled, and sneak out, all without being detected.
And then the fairy showed up.
Pitch was only a few feet away from the nearest shadow, trying to blend in with the stony walls and clutching the salve in his robe pocket like a precious gem. He was so focused on keeping himself undetected and unseen that he didn't even notice his pint-sized stalker until she piped up behind him.
You know, if you wanted some of North's cookies, I'm sure he would just give them to you.
Pitch jumped about a foot in the air and his sand-scythe immediately materialized in his free hand with the menacing ring of a sword being drawn from its' sheath. Only then did he recognize the voice and realize who it was. "Baby Tooth!"
That's my name, don't wear it out. The tiny shimmering fairy replied, grinning and flying forward to give him a gentle kiss on the nose. What's up Pitch? I haven't seen you in weeks!
Pitch sighed. "I've been busy." He said, using the conversation to distract her and slipping the salve back inside his robe where it would be safe. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out with your sisters, gathering chompers and dealing out coins?" Ok, he had to admit, he hadn't meant to be that snappish with her. He was just worried about the girl, that was all. And he needed to get this back to her soon. It would be easier to just apologize and throw off suspicion. "I'm sorry Baby Tooth," he told her, smiling apologetically. "I didn't mean that."
She shrugged it off. Fairies were surprisingly unflappable creatures. It's all good. And yeah, I really should be out there with them but Mom gave me a few days off for rest cause I've been putting in so much overtime. I was looking around here, hoping to find Jack.
Pitch nodded. Seemed reasonable. "Did you try the lake?"
She nodded, pouting. Yeah. And I almost got eaten by a dog too!
Pitch tried to fake sympathy, but in reality he was getting more and more agitated by the minute. If one of the yetis saw him standing here, he would surely report it to North. And that was the last thing he wanted! "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that sweetie," he told her, managing to grimace out a respectable smile. "But I really have to be going. Onyx and the others should be getting home any time and they get antsy when I'm not around. The last time I spent longer than a few hours away from home at a time I came home and the caves were ruined."
She nodded knowingly. Oh yes, the same thing happened to me when I was on a long-distance mission in Antarctica. An eskimo baby lost her first tooth, mom was away at the annual fae meeting and when I got back, the Palace was in utter shambles! Nothing was organized, nothing was clean and everything was just generally a cyclone of disorder. Sufficed to say, I spent a long time trying to sort that out.
Pitch nodded and turned to go, but before he could make it more than a few steps before a certain curious ball of feathers flew up in front of his face and stopped him. Hey, you seem kinds tense Pitch. She said peering at his eyes closely. What's up? Jack winding you up again?
Pitch shook his head. "No Baby Tooth, I'm just a little tired. And I would like to get home now so if you don't mind," he made to walk around her but yet again she blocked his path.
No, she said firmly. It's not that.
"I'm afraid that's exactly what it is." Pitch replied and, before Baby Tooth could object again, he dove for the nearest shadow and was immediately enveloped in shrouds of darkness, leaving a tiny Tooth Fairy frowning in bewilderment at his strange behavior.
I'd better get back to the Pole and tell mom about this, she muttered to herself, eying the shadow suspiciously before turning around and buzzing away, back to Pujam Hi Loo.
Back with Pitch, the void of the shadow-plane hit him like a breath of cold air in the face before fading away into the cool, musky air of his caves. He tumbled out of the shadow outside the girl's room, stumbled a bit, then righted himself and took a look around. Yep, he was home alright. And thankfully it appeared that the pint-sized little investigator fairy hadn't tried to follow him.
Smart move on her part. The demons in the shadow-realm would've gobbled up her essence for a light snack. He thought as he dusted himself off. While doing so, his hand brushed the inside pocket of his robe. It felt strangely empty. He instantly tensed up, his hand shooting inside the pocket where the salve lay in wait. Good, he thought with a sigh of relief, taking out the little jar and holding it up to inspect. I didn't lose it in transit. That had happened before.
The jar itself was made of plain, clear glass. But the gunk inside was an off-putting greenish color that certainly looked like medicine. He grimaced, knowing the pain he was about to inflict on the poor girl. Then his grimace faded, replaced by a determined scowl. But he would do it, for her sake. Because if the wound continued to fester it would just cause her more pain.
Steeling himself, he opened the door to the room. Onyx was inside- odd, he thought, stepping through the threshold and frowning. I thought I asked her to stay outside. "How's our girl doing Onyx?" He asked, walking over to the Nightmare.
Onyx spun around, starting to rise up onto her back hooves in an attack position but when she recognized her masters' voice she lowered her powerful hooves and her lips parted in a smile. She's doing well. I can't sense a single vestige of fear from her, and since you left she's been resting peacefully.
Pitch nodded, sensing the proverbial but was not disappointed.
But, the horse continued. I can tell that she's in pain. And not all of it physical. She swung her head to look at the girl who hadn't twitched a muscle. There's a lot of anguish there Pitch, a lot of grief. And I wouldn't be surprised if she stays clammed up like she is for the rest of her life.
Pitch nodded ruefully, remembering the flash of memory he had seen when he had tried to penetrate her nightmare. So much pain, so much hurt.
Onyx appeared to guess his thoughts from the expression on his face because after a long moment she asked curiously, Just what did you see in there?
The Boogeyman shook his head. "That's her business to tell, not mine." He said shortly, turning away from the horse and walking over to the bed. "If you would be so good as to wait outside, Onyx. I'll be done in less than an hour."
She frowned. What are you going to do?
"Play doctor." He replied and it might've been Onyx's ears playing tricks on her, but she was pretty sure she heard a little bit of regret in his voice. Then again, it might've just been her.
XXXXXX
As soon as I heard the horse's by now familiar clip-clopping footsteps retreating and the door slamming shut behind her, I cracked open one eye. Great. Now it was just me and him again. The last thing I had been looking forward to.
I had quite honestly been enjoying my brief hour-reprieve of peace. It had given me a little bit of time to think on the recent changes in my situation. True, there weren't that many, but the ones that were were of the utmost importance.
Damn spiders when I get ahold of them I'm gonna whallop them into a pulp! I mentally grumbled, pounding my fist against my curled hand beneath the blankets where I was huddled, trying to regain some of my body-heat that had been lost while I had been running from that disgusting spider.
I tried rubbing my arms to warm them, but only suceeded in tearing off a fraction of my shirt sleeve. That wasn't the only thing I had lost apparently. I glared at the shred of fabric, though honestly it wasn't that big deal. It had only been hanging on by a thread anyway. As were the rest of my clothes.
Now, mind you I hadn't been dressing very snappily when I had first gotten dragged down here, but after two long weeks of failed escape attempts, battles with Nightmares, Boogeymen and giant spiders alike, plus regular wear and tear, my clothes were in about the same shape as the rags of the girl I had transformed into on accident a few days ago. It was a miricle they still covered me completely.
I heard a creak and footsteps, suddenly remembering the other presence in the room just in time to hear him crossing the floor. I pretended to still be asleep, slowing my heartbeat down until I could barely feel it fluttering in my chest. He came to sit beside me on the bed, staring at me for a few seconds before he spoke. "How long have you been awake?" His voice was low and concerned and I instantly felt revulsion coursing through me. I hated it when he spoke to me like he cared about my well-being. Even when it seemed like he did, but I knew he didn't.
I rolled my eyes and sat up, my body creaking like an old woman's from being in the chains for so long. Damn. What was this guy anyway, some kind of sleep police?
He moved back a little to give me some space but I over-looked the gesture. I folded my arms over my chest and remained silent.
He sighed. "You should have been resting," he told me, reaching inside his robe with one hand as he spoke. "You need your strength."
I smirked. Truer words never spoken. Now if only I can gather enough strangth to get the hell out of here. Then all our problems will be solved and we can both rest easy.
He pulled out a small jar of greenish goop that I guessed must be for the pain. I squinted at it. It looked like the spinach smoothies Cupcake's mom was forever trying to get her to drink. Eew.
He noticed the disgusted look on my face and smirked. "Well, the good news is you won't have to drink this," he told me with a small chuckle. "It's a salve, made by the yetis at the North Pole. It should help with the pain once I've drained the welts."
I rolled my eyes skyward. The North Pole? Yetis? I was beginning to think my initial assumption of the guy had been right. He was a whacko.
He set the salve down on the bed beside me and crossed the room to the small cabinet that I had rummaged through already. He opened it and pulled out a spare sheet, ripping it with his surprisingly sharp teeth into long strips that I assumed were for bandages and all the while, he kept on talking to me.
"Normally I would use regular bandages," he said as yet another sheet was sliced into strips. When he was finished, he began to gather up the long pieces of cloth and walked over to me. "Goodness knows I have a massive supply from my past, but I thought it would be best to hurry before they get any more infected. I already spent far too much time at the Pole, and I tried to get back here as fast as I could but I was accosted by one of Tooth's daughters. I'm sorry about taking so long. Incidentally, do you know when they started to appear?"
I sighed and blotted out his senseless prattle with static noise until I heard his ask a question. I shrugged.
He set the bandages down on the bed and gave me a look.
I shrugged again. Hey, what do you want from me? I wasn't in a talkative mood at the moment. And even if I was, I wasn't in the mood to talk to him.
He sighed and pulled a long, thin knife from nowhere whatsoever! I gulped as I stared at the blade which was black and wicked-sharp. That thing could slit my throat without me even feeling it! He set it down too, gingerly on the bed with the handle pointing towards him. "Well, if you don't know then can you at least tell me how long you've been in pain?"
I shook my head. Only because I didn't know.
The man rolled his eyes and muttered, "I think Nightlight was more talkative when he was in the cage." Before taking my unchained wrist and raising the knife. "I'm just going to slit these open a little. To drain them. It won't be pleasant, but you'll thank me when I'm done."
I gritted my teeth. Funny how you say that so easily when you aren't the one whose blisters are getting sliced open with a razor!
He noticed my look and asked concernedly, "Are you sure you wouldn't like to be put to sleep? It would definitely help with the pain."
I shook my head firmly. No way. If he wanted to do this to me, he would do it while I was awake. I wasn't taking any chances. Besides, it couldn't be any worse than the glass in my foot, could it? That had been agonizing enough.
He nodded, looking somewhat disappointed. "Alright. Brace yourself my dear."
I only had enough time to growl, "I'm not your-" before he lifted the knife and made the first incision.
The sound that came out of my mouth could have terrified a grizzly bear into hiding. A primordial mix of animalistic howls of agony, mixed with the human screams of someone being burned alive. It was a hideous, beautiful sound that echoed throughout the entire cave system and must've woken up every human within a two hundred-foot-radius. Pitch flinched back but kept a firm grip on my arm, even though I was screaming and bellowing like a stuck pig as the puss slowly oozed out of my wrist. There was so much pain that I couldn't think straight and I tried to get away from it, lurching forward but he had too strong ahold of me and I only succeeded in falling over onto the bed.
He hauled me up and shook me gently. "Girl, listen to me! It's alright, we only have a few more to go. OK? OK? I understand it must hurt but it'll all be over soon."
Unbidden tears were falling from my eyes as the agony increased and through my watery gaze I could see that he was pretty close to tears as well. I nodded shakily, my screams silent. For now. "D-do it," I murmured.
He nodded and, before I should even whimper, he had made the cuts and the puss started collecting and dripping down my arm, staining the comforter a dingy greyish-white.
Suddenly the full force of the agony hit me and I screamed bloody murder, clutching at my wrist and trying to make the pain go away. This was worse, much worse than the glass in my foot. Why did I ever agree to this? I bemoaned, tears streaming down my cheeks and blurring my vision.
Pitch put a comforting hand on my back and said softly, "I know, I know it hurts my dear. Just let them drain and once they're clean, I can salve them and wrap them. Then you'll be done! OK? Just hold out a little longer, please?"
I tried to roll my eyes but they stung too much. Had he forgotten my other wrist? Evidently so. I shook my other wrist at him and he swore. "Damn, I'm sorry I forgot about your other wrist. But don't worry, we'll soon get that fixed too. Then you can rest for real, alright?" As he spoke he reached for the salve. Evidently my welts were empty because he dipped and finger in and started spreading the mucky gunk all over my wrist. I winced.
"Ow!"
"I'm sorry," he apologized, over and over again. "I'm sorry, I'm almost done!"
I almost laughed. He sounded so much like Cupcake had that one night.
Suddenly, my thoughts turned back to the little brown-haired writer. I wondered where she was now. Home, in bed? At school? Playing out in the snow of a cold January morning? I had completely lost track of the days while I had been down here, and I hadn't the faintest idea how long I had been gone. Probably only about a week or so. But still, she would probably be worried about me.
I was so busy thinking about cupcake that I hardly noticed he had wrapped my wrist up in thick, black cloth and was already starting to work on the other one. He had already made one incision.
"Good," he murmured, carefully making the cut against the welt. "This is good. Whatever you're doing, keep doing it until we're done."
I nodded sleepily, too deep in my own thoughts to really hear him. I was still wondering about Cupcake.
Damn, I thought, staring off into the inky-black expanse of rock opposite with me. I hope she's not worrying about me. Though she probably would be, knowing her. Cupcake was such a caring little girl. So kind, so compassionate. Sure, she wasn't the most normal little girl out there, but hey, who likes normal anyway?
"Almost done," Pitch murmured, spreading more of the salve over my open welts before bandaging them expertly and finally letting my hand drop into my lap. "There!"
I winced, pulling out of my thoughts to give him a glare and rubbing my wrist which was throbbing from the cuts in a vain attempt to dull the pain.
He grinned apologetically. "Sorry. But look on the upside, you're done!"
I rolled my eyes, raising a hand to wipe them with the back of my arm. "You are annoyingly cheerful." I told him spitefully which, annoyingly enough seemed to make him more cheerful.
He smiled. "And you're beginning to sound like your old self again." I harrumphed and he chuckled. "You really don't like to smile much, do you my dear?" He asked, an irritating smirk playing around his grey lips.
I bared my sharp teeth and spat, "I am not your dear."
I knew it wouldn't scare him like I had the first time, but maybe it would be enough to tell him that I wasn't in the mood for social niceties. But, instead of getting the message he merely chuckled again. "Uptight little thing, aren't you?" He said, looking me up and down like I was a particularly odd-shaped fruit.
I hissed and turned away but he simply walked around the bed to face me again. "You remind me a lot of myself as a young spirit," he murmured, more to me than himself as his eclipse eyes watched me. "Defensive, skittish. Terrified of everything-"
I exploded around to face him, anger flaring up inside me. "I AM NOT-"
"But covering your fear with anger. And in denial as well." He continued smoothly before pausing and giving me those utterly infuriating pitiful eyes. "Yes, you remind me quite a lot of myself."
That was it. I had had enough. Instead of turning away or closing my eyes, I threw back the comforter that I was sitting on, dove underneath it and flopped down on my side, covering my head with the blanket. The horse had said he was the Boogeyman, right? What better way to ward off the guardian of closets and under the bed than hiding under the covers?
Silence…for a long moment. Then I grimaced as I heard his severely unimpressed voice. "You know the puss is still on those, right? And if so that's rather disgusting."
The blankets were off me faster than a fly off a frog's nose. They were flung across the room and landed in a heap on the ground. Meanwhile I was rubbing my arms and shivering. Eeeew!
I heard him chuckling and spun around to face him, glaring murderously. Did I have even a fraction of dignity left?!
Evidently not.
He smirked. "Don't worry, I've been on the receiving end of plenty of Irony's pranks in my time. Kind of one of an occupational hazard that comes from being so close to the void. But you'll get used to it." He gave my shoulder a gentle pat and I recoiled. He sighed and leaned back, folding his hands into his lap and regarding me thoughtfully. We stayed like that for a long time, watching each other with blank, unwavering stared until finally, he spoke.
"Why do you keep trying to escape?" He asked me, probably trying to understand the method behind the madness. "I'm only trying to help you."
I held his gaze for a long moment before finally dropping my gaze. My thoughts were still conflicted on the matter. In fact, I wasn't even sure what to believe any more. As much as I wanted to kid myself, it hadn't been his fault that I had been almost murdered by a giant spider, even though he had been the one who had brought me here.
Before I could get any further on the matter however, I heard a slightly depressed sigh and he started speaking again.
"You might think you don't need help to figure all this out," he was saying in the time-honored tone of an old person giving a young person advice and made me want to give him a miracle ear and a cane. "But you do. Every single spirit has needed someone who knows how to survive in this world, and those that don't…" He paused, looking back up at me. "Well, it takes them a long time to learn the difference between right and wrong. I spent well over five thousand years being controlled and manipulated by the demons that made me a spirit. I didn't have anyone but them, whispering in my ears every night. They owned me, as if I were a book or a piece of clothing to be used and discarded as they saw fit. I don't want that for you! Spirits like us have a responsibility to the world, and though I don't quite know what yours is yet, I know that mine is to protect children-"
I had to stop this, before I died of boredom. So, gathering my courage and putting on my best dead-pan mask I said, in the most monotonous voice I could, "Stop the monologing already, you sound like John Stewart."
He stopped in mid-sentence, staring at me like I had just grown a second head. I rolled my eyes turning away and curling up like a baby. I was cold, and I was in pain. Right now, I didn't want a lecture. I just wanted to go to sleep and forget about all of this until tomorrow, when I wouldn't hurt- as much, and hopefully things would be clearer.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing in my wrist as I tucked it under my head because in my sluggish state I had forgotten about the pillows just inches behind my head.
"Going to sleep for real this time?"
I mumbled something unintelligible.
"Good girl." I heard a creak and felt his weight on the bed lessen, then heard some footsteps.
Great, I thought, smiling to myself as I burrowed deeper into my lack of blankets. He's finally getting the message and leaving me alone!
Then I felt the thick, heavy blanket falling over my and my good mood instantly evaporated. Damn you Boogey-dude. I thought ruefully. I'm supposed to hate you for kidnapping me dammit! And yet...I found that I couldn't hate him. Not after he had rescued me from the spider. And, after the cuffs and now this, I just...couldn't bring myself to hate him any more.
So I settled for minor dislike.
"Night." I grumbled, by all appearances remaining my normal grouchy self but I had a feeling he knew how much his kindness had impacted me.
I felt something tugging on the blankets slightly- I assumed he was straightening them out, then he tucked them in around me like a caring parent. "Goodnight my dear. I'll try to get some more dreamsand so that you can have pleasant dreams."
I was about to grumble that I was not his dear yet again, then I felt a hand on my exposed hand peeping out from underneath the blanket and I looked up, straight into his wide, eclipse eyes and his bright teeth, bared in a gentle smile.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes never wavering from mine. I was sure I looked like a deer in the headlights, but I couldn't do anything about it.
"For what?" I breathed.
His smile widened by a molar or two. "For letting me in." He lingered there for a few more seconds, then he nodded once and left. And I was left alone in the dark, cold room once again.
I sighed again, suddenly feeling infinitely tired. I closed my eyes once again and tried to let the sweet sweet warmth of the blankets lull me to sleep. I tried to shut my mind off but, against my wishes, my thoughts kept drifting back to him. Should I have let him in more? Was I going soft? Should I listen to him, or should I ignore him and focus on getting the hell out of here? I cracked open my eyes one more time, intending to look at the door and hoping that it would satisfy my restless mind. But, in the process of sitting up I happened to glance at my hand and almost screamed out loud.
My entire hand...had turned grey.
Now, normally when the color of a person's skin changed without any logical cause, said person freaks out. Thankfully for my sake, normal is never an adjective that can be applied to me. And, instead of screaming and throwing a fit, I simply stared at the hand curiously, turning it back and forth and wiggling my fingers, testing their limits. It was my hand, alright. It was just...grey. And as time passed, I noticed the grey tinge starting to fade. It krept down from my wrist and into my fingertips like paint dripping off a canvas until my hand was completely back to its normal creamy coloring, with a little bit of blue bruising around the palm.
It took a moment for it to sink in, but when it did, it was a good thing that Pitch had said he would get me the good dream sand, because I'm sure the smile on my face as I drifted off the sleep would have terrified any Sandman stupid enough to visit me. I had a new escape attempt in mind. And this one would certainly be a show.
It would also be my last.
XXXXXXX
Pitch closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief. Tears of empathetic pain that he had been holding back since the first incision threatened to spill over from his lids, but he blinked them back and sighed. And I thought the first talk with her was good! He thought, a small smile creeping across his face. This one had been even better! She was talking to him- well, mostly insulting him, but he figured she had a pretty good right to, and better yet, he felt they were building some sort of trust between them. She certainly wouldn't have let him do any of that just a week ago.
Onyx noticed his strange expression and asked tentatively, Pitch? Are you alright?
Pitch nodded. "Yes Onyx, I'm fine." He turned around and faced the black horse. "Let her sleep as long as she wants. When she wakes up, wait with her until I come back. Try to ease her pain, as much as you can until I get back."
Onyx cocked her head to the side curiously. And how to you propose I do that? She asked blandly. Sing her a lullaby?
He shrugged. "If you have to. Just ty to strengthen the message that we care about her well-being and want to keep her safe. Because we do." He gave Onyx a firm look.
Onyx nodded. Hey, you'll get no argument from me. I'm actually starting to like the kid. She's got fire. And spirit.
Pitch raised an eyebrow. "Was that your attempt at a pun?" He asked, slightly amused.
She shook her head and that movement set her mane waving. Nope. Just the honest truth.
He sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching up to pat her neck. "Just make sure she stays safe until I come back you annoyingly perceptive equine. Or else I'll turn you into an hour-glass."
Said annoyingly perceptive equine nodded and nuzzled his hand. Alright alright, but you know once she's healed she's gonna try to escape again at the first opportunity she gets, right?
Suddenly, one of the most unsettling smiles that ever graced a humanoid's lips sidled onto Pitch's face. It was a small smile, but it wasn't angry or sneaky or plotting. And that was what made it so terrifying. "Already one step ahead of you Onyx." He told her, grinning and sending slight shivers up and down her spine. "I know she's going to try to escape again. In fact, I'm counting on it."
The Nightmare frowned, but she didn't understand what he meant until later that week.
