X-x-x

Jack wasn't all that surprised to find himself in the nightmare once more, though he was a little disappointed. Jack saw the enormous amount of ice and frost that covered several trees in front of him, which reminded him of what had occurred. That's right. He had defeated Pitch in this nightmare; had buried him beneath a storm of ice and frost. The winter spirit looked around the silent night landscape, a bit puzzled. If that was the case, and he had defeated Pitch here...then why had he been drawn back into it? Was it because he had only defeated an illusion of Pitch? Jack let out a frustrated breath of air. Did that mean he needed to confront Pitch when he was awake after all? To make this stop?

Jack glanced around the eerily silent forest of ice, before he walked away to emerge into a clearing by the pond. Jack scowled a little. He disliked the fact that Pitch had come to Burgess. This was Jack's sometimes home, and he didn't appreciate Pitch causing a disturbance there. Jack settled next to the pond's edge, taking another clearing breath. The air was still crisp, as winter hadn't quite left the land, and Jack closed his eyes briefly to enjoy the cool breeze.

Jack opened his eyes again after that little indulgence, and that was when the overwhelming weight of weariness struck him. Jack leaned against his staff for support as he realized that there were very few children of the world that still held on to the hope that he was real, and not a figment of their imagination. The exhausted feeling made Jack wobble, but he managed to stay standing as he let out a bitter chuckle. It was a horrid feeling, not to be believed in and have repercussions because of it, but if this was the worst that Pitch could do after everything else he had done in this nightmare, Jack would endure it. At least this time around the nightmare wasn't so bad, and it was more like the dreams he normally might have experienced. A lonely landscape where he was always alone, where even in his dreams he couldn't be seen by everyone. The pale teen let out a low sigh of relief, hoping that Pitch's hold over this nightmare was waning, and he'd be here only a short time before he would wake up.

Jack twirled his staff, feeling his spirit rise up even through he still felt a little sluggish. Jack tried to figure out what to do while waiting to wake up. The thought of what had happened to the other Guardians in this nightmare, as well as Jamie and his friends, rose up from the back of his mind, and the thought made him a little queasy. The pale teen almost had the mind to go and see to them, to make sure that they were taken care of properly. Jack let his staff tap the ground as he pondered.

Finally, Jack shook his head a little. It was just a dream, so there wasn't any reason to be doing such a thing. It would only cause him further emotional pain to see the state his friends were in. The winter spirit didn't want to see it again, as the nightmare was making things quite clear to him as he thought back on what had happened. No, Jack was going to keep his fear to a minimum. He had the unnerving thought of Pitch hovering near him where he slept, just waiting for fear to rise in him. No, he wouldn't give the Nightmare King what he wanted.

Jack lifted his head to look up at the still half obscured moon, and felt a little saddened by the fact that he still never heard from the man in the moon. The winter spirit was curious what the distant being would think of what was happening in this nightmare. Was the man in the moon present in dreams, or was it just a reflection, an illusion? Jack blinked back tears the longer he stared up at the moon. Though right now, it seemed like something was different. Something that was almost familiar with the bright object in the sky.

Jack narrowed his eyes, a little frown crossing his face. It seemed almost as if…as if the man in the moon were trying to tell him something. Maybe he could speak to Jack in dreams? Whether they were a pleasant dream or a nightmare? That would be rather nice. Jack could now hear him…or rather, sense something? Jack could tell that he was definitely picking up on what appeared to be emotions…it seemed like distress and helpless rage. What could possibly be wrong now? Pitch was gone; no one could have survived an attack like one he had unleashed, right? Even in the nightmare, the pale teen had managed to vanquish the Nightmare King. Jack was a bit uneasy as the moon seemed to gleam brighter, like something was distressing the being up there. What could it be?

Sudden, searing pain tore across Jack's back, ripping through clothing and skin. The winter spirit let loose a strangled cry of pure agony as he toppled forward, where he collapsed to the still slightly snowy ground of the forest. Realization sunk in as Jack felt the throbbing pain race across his back. The man in the moon...he had been trying to warn him. Jack grunted in pain as a foot dug into his side and kicked him over. Jack took in a shuddering hiss of breath when he found himself settle on to his wounded back. It hurt. It hurt a lot. Before Jack could even think to retaliate, or realize that his staff had fallen out of his hand, a heavy weight dropped onto his chest.

Pitch looked down at Jack with a sneer, his scythe resting on the winter spirit's chest. Pitch moved the blade so that it nicked Jack's throat, as sarcasm slid into each of his words, like the Nightmare King couldn't believe the idiocy of the being lying on the ground, "Really, Frost? I would have expected you to be well versed in sneak attacks by now."

"I didn't think I'd have to worry about it, but I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less from a coward." Jack spat, as he tilted his head to try and relieve pressure from the blade across his throat. He could barely think as the pain in his back increased in its intensity. Jack bit his lip to keep himself from crying out, but failed miserably as Pitch decided to make him really feel his injury.

Pitch pressed down harder, which caused Jack to thrash in agony as his wounded back was pressed against the ground. Pitch observed the writhing winter spirit with something like twisted pleasure in his eyes. Once Jack had quieted to a few odd whimpers here and there, Pitch spoke softly, "Did you really believe that I'd be so easy to destroy? Did you?"

Jack struggled to catch his breath, and tired to get a hold of himself through the waves of pain he was experiencing. Once he had gotten his shuddering breath under a semblance of control, Jack took a shaky deep breath, and reached up to grip the scythe, "If you're going to kill me, do it already. I'm tired of this. You had your fun, and I want to wake up now."

Pitch studied Jack intently, searching the icy blue gaze below him, where a glare was firmly fixed on him. The Nightmare King almost seemed to be giving Jack's words serious thought, before Pitch gave the winter spirit a pitying smile, "No, I don't think I will. There's so much more fun I can have with you, Jack. Your fear is simply wonderful. Why would I want to cut that short?" Pitch let the scythe vanish, as a calculated look was narrowed down upon Jack, "Besides, didn't I already tell you? I had a much better idea in mind."

Terror leapt in Jack's throat as he realized just what Pitch's intentions were, and his scream of protest was cut short as Pitch muttered something under his breath. The Nightmare King watched as Jack stilled, and the gray skinned man was wearing a sharp, wickedly delighted smile, "Get up." Pitch watched as a mute Jack stood up shakily, swaying on his feet in an attempt to stay upright. Pitch pursed his lips in irritation. He'd have to get the wound he inflicted treated, or Jack would be useless to him. Pitch reached out a hand to steady Jack, and led him through the forest, away from the pond and toward the surrounding shadows, "This way." Pitch all but purred, drinking in the fear and loving the look of resigned horror in Jack's eyes.

X-x-x

Jack didn't believe that this nightmare could have gotten any worse than it already had been, but he was wrong. It got so much more worse, and there was nothing he could do about it. A tiny bit of him still hoped that the Guardians were searching for him and wherever Pitch had taken him to draw him into this nightmare. He had to believe what Bunnymund had told him. That he was never really alone, and that the Guardians would be there for hm. Jack had to believe in that, otherwise he knew that his will would have shattered even further than it already had.

After Pitch had used the spell on him, Jack had gotten a little down time as Pitch allowed his injury to heal, even going so far as to take Jack to Antarctica. The bitter cold of the place made Jack feel much better, even if the exhaustion he felt from the children losing belief in him and the Guardians still took its toll. Jack thought that if he had been able to linger in Antarctica, he might have found it in himself to break free of Pitch's control for even a moment to escape whatever nefarious deeds the Nightmare King had in mind. However, that hope was dashed, as Pitch had only allowed the two of them to remain in Antarctica long enough for Jack to recover from the wound the Nightmare King had inflicted upon him.

Things had gone from bad to worse as soon as the two of them took their leave of the frigid land, and Jack was helpless to stop Pitch when the Nightmare King made it clear just what he was going to have Jack help him with.

Jack felt the first stirrings of unease as Pitch led him to a rather large mansion on a quiet corner of a street. Jack was unable to even voice his displease of Pitch gripping his upper arm as the Nightmare King led them into a shadow near the towering structure. Jack hated the sensation of going through the darkness, but it wasn't exactly a fear, so at least Pitch was unaware of just how much it bothered him. Jack could still look around, as that still seemed to be the only thing that he still retrained control over. A very small control at that. The mansion looked like it hadn't had any inhabitants in quite some time, and Jack wondered what the heck the two of them were doing there when he heard voices. What sounded like a few children, and one or two teens.

Pitch was smirking at the look in Jack's eyes as he saw that the winter spirit finally understood what they were going to do. Pitch patted Jack's arm lightly, an almost unconscious gesture as he spoke with uncontrolled glee, "Remember what I said after you triggered that avalanche? I thought a little cold and dark would be perfect to greet the children with." Pitch gave Jack a razor sharp smile, more amused when he spotted a glint of anger in Jack's eyes, "I suppose you don't like the idea, being a Guardian of fun and all that, but guess what Jack?" Pitch moved in close, leaning over so that he could look into Jack's eyes, "You lost. You don't have any choice anymore but to help me, so your little show of resistance in that little mind of yours will need to stop." The anger was replaced by a look of dread, and Pitch liked that look very much indeed, and the Nightmare King smiled as he amended a bit of his words, "Though, I suppose you aren't exactly a Guardian anymore under my control, but I can still let you have some fun. Though...my kind of fun is a little different than yours, so it might take some getting used to."

Jack wanted nothing more than to lash out and beat every inch of Pitch's body until the boogeyman decided to never show his face to him again. Jack was never going to enjoy anything Pitch made him do with the loss of control over his body. Jack would get through this, somehow, and Pitch would regret ever giving this nightmare to him.

Pitch noticed the look of defiance that Jack had in his eyes now, and Pitch gave him a hair-raising smile, "Oh, going to be difficult, are you? Very well then. Let's see how long it takes to break that little mind of yours. I'm thinking you'll come to enjoy this, and when you do, I want to see and feel the fear rise from you when you realize that you like this." The look Pitch got made him throw his head back and laugh stridently. Oh, Jack was so much fun, and the defiance made it even sweeter. Pitch knew that sooner or later, Jack would shatter, and he was quite looking forward to that moment.

Jack heard the children and teens getting closer, and his thoughts of defiant acts were extinguished as Pitch dropped a hand onto his shoulder and squeezed a little bit, "Now Jack, this mansion is said to be haunted, so let's give them what they expect, hm?"

Jack let out a sound of wordless protest in his mind, as Pitch walked off, and he followed along after his enemy. Jack fought desperately to stop himself from doing this, but the hold Pitch had over him was too strong, and Jack was unable to break free. The winter spirit could only watch helplessly, and he hated it with every fiber of his being that Pitch was turning this nightmare into a horror fest now.

X-x-x

"Hey, Billy? Did you hear that?" A boy of eight years old came to a halt in the dusty mansion, gripping his older brother's vest.

"Hear what?" The older brother, Billy, asked, a little annoyed that his younger brother was still so clingy. He hadn't heard anything, though he did feel a bit of a breeze, but Billy merely wrote that off as the mansion was likely to be drafty. After all, no one had lived there for decades.

"I hear something too." A girl of the age of eight or nine looked around, and glanced over at a ten year old boy standing next to her, "You hear it?"

The boy standing next to the girl nodded, "Yeah, it's kind of weird."

Abby, the other teenager of the small group of five, rolled her eyes and cast a glance over at Billy, "This is such a stupid idea, Billy. Even if there are 'ghosts' here, we'll never know because they're going to think every noise or breeze in this old house is a spirit."

Billy rolled his shoulder in a shrug, "Maybe some of the noises are from spirits, Abby. It is nighttime after all, and that's when they're supposed to come out."

Billy's younger brother was tugging at Billy's vest harder this time, "Did you hear a laugh?"

Abby sighed heavily, "I told you the two of us should have come alone. We're never going to see or hear anything with these kids here."

Billy's younger brother puffed up indignantly, "I'm not scared or anything, I just hear something!"

Abby was about to comment on the young boys words when she felt a cool breeze pass by her, and she shivered.

Billy noticed this, "What is it, Abby?"

"I felt a cold breeze, but maybe it was just my imagination." Abby said, looking a little uncomfortable and not at all believing her own words.

A heavy, cold breeze with a little frost mixed in blew past all five of them, and the youngest of the group let out a little shriek at the sudden cold. The rest of the group began to feel uneasy as they noticed that their breath was now visible, and the temperature of the room they were in had plummeted at least twenty degrees. They all unconsciously moved a little closer to one another.

"G..ghost?" One of the children questioned of Billy and Abby, but the teens were too busy trying to come up with ways to explain away the sudden cold of the room.

Billy's younger brother started when the large mirror in the room began to frost up, covering it in a thin sheen of ice. Then, hand prints began to cover the surface of the iced mirror, and the group of five watched in horrified fascination as the ice began to disappear beneath the hand prints, until a small surface of the mirror was uncovered. It was almost as if an invitation had been made to go and take a look to see if there was anything in the mirror.

The two teens and three children all looked at one another as if to ask who would be the brave one to go and take a closer look. Eventually, a silent unanimous agreement was reached. Billy stepped forward to approach the mirror, as he was the oldest of the group, and the least likely of them to freak out at any sudden movements.

Billy faced the mirror squarely, and studied the mirror with a discerning eye. He saw his reflection, and those of his four companions, but nothing else. Billy scoffed, "I don't see anything. I think someone is just..." Billy's words trailed off as he saw something appear in the mirror in the doorway of the room, standing tall over the rest of the people in the room. With a feeling of dread, Billy inched a little closer to get a good look at the mirror and the figure standing in the doorway. It was a man dressed in black, and when Billy squinted to make out the eyes on the figure, Billy realized with a stab of fright that the figure was looking directly at him, and smiling in a predatory way.

Billy stumbled away from the mirror with a strangled cry, and spun about, as he ended up backing into the mirror as he saw the dark figure standing in the doorway. Wordlessly, Billy tried to communicate to his companions that something was behind them, but could only manage to point.

Abby rolled her eyes, "Billy, quit trying to scare us. It isn't funny." As soon as she finished speaking, she froze in place as a small puff of air fell across her neck. Abby then rolled her eyes, "Very funny, you guys, but that isn't going to scare me." With her mind set on another teenagers having snuck up in her to try and scare her, Abby turned around with an annoyed expression on her face to confront the perpetrator. Abby's eyes widened as she was confronted with an amused looking Pitch, who had leaned over a bit to be level with the teen.

Pitch took immense pleasure in the fear rising with in the teen, and he gave her a wicked smile, flashing his teeth, "Good evening. Were you expecting someone else?"

Abby finally let loose a shriek of horror and scrambled back from Pitch, racing out of the other door to the room without a second glance back. The children, spotting Pitch and his creepy smile, let loose similar cries and fled the room after Abby.

Only Billy seemed incapable of moving, as he was still trying to find some logical explanation for the dark figure in the doorway. Billy blinked as the figure suddenly vanished and he let out a shaky laugh.

"Something amusing you, boy?" A silky whisper queried in his ear.

Billy launched himself forward at the sudden voice, and turned quickly, seeing that the dark figure had appeared behind him. That wasn't possible. It wasn't...

Pitch clasped his hands behind his back, tilting his head at the teen, "I think you were leaving, weren't you?"

A cold blast of air slammed into Billy, which knocked him backward out the door and into the hallway. Billy surged to his feet and fled the mansion in an undignified manner, but at at this point he really didn't care. Billy was not going to be going to any haunted places for quite some time.

Back inside the mansion, Pitch was chuckling to himself and enjoying the fear that had been caused. He grinned at the still partially iced mirror, before he stepped languidly out into the hall, where Jack stood silently, holding his staff. Pitch circled Jack, peering at the winter spirit's eyes, as the Nightmare King realized that this was the only way he would know what the other was thinking. Pitch smiled pleasantly at what he saw. Loathing. Pitch shook his head, "You can't tell me that wasn't even a little bit fun. After all, none of them were harmed." Not bothering to see the emotion that brought up, Pitch led Jack out of the open door of the mansion. "Come along now, there's still much to do tonight."

Jack had no idea how long he could last like this. Pitch was really stretching out this nightmare, and Jack was terrified to wonder just how long he would be forced to endure it.

X-x-x

The fear fest continued every night. Each time it brought a new surge of fear to the pale teen, and he knew that Pitch was enjoying his helplessness. Some days Jack didn't even try to fight the spell Pitch had put on him, and just went along with what the other told him to do. Eventually, Jack found it to be not as bad as he had envisioned, and almost, almost enjoyed it. However, that soon vanished as one night Pitch was gave him a knowing smile.

"Oh? Are you starting to enjoy yourself, Jack? It isn't as bad as you thought it would be, right? Having a little fun now, are we?" Pitch let out a nasty little laugh as the look in Jack's eyes widened a little in horror at the very thought. Pitch slid a little closer to Jack, appearing to take in the surge of fear, "Hmm...that's better. I was wondering when you were going to realize it." Pitch patted Jack's cheek, "But I rather doubt its enough to completely shatter you. I don't mind if you have a little fun, but it seems that you aren't going to anymore. Too bad."

Jack wanted to let loose a stream of verbal abuse the Nightmare King, but was unable to, and this seemed to cheer Pitch as well, as he led Jack away for the night.

X-x-x

This nightmare was never ending. It was nearly impossible for Jack to comprehend the duration of this nightmare. Maybe he was imagining things, and it just seemed like forever that Pitch had had him under his control. Jack found it a little nerve racking that they ended up scaring different children, so it made it seem as though years were going by.

The concept of having years of a continuous nightmare was too terrible to think about, and Jack mostly tried to distance himself from it. He'd wake up, he knew he would, because his friends weren't going to leave him in this state. And when Jack woke up? He was going to gather the Guardians together and talk seriously about doing something about Pitch. The Nightmare King shouldn't be allowed to give one person so many nightmares just to draw out fear.

Jack heard the soft footfalls, as Pitch had a habit of leaving the winter spirit in the darkened lair until night came. The footsteps announced the return of his tormentor. Jack mentally braced himself for the coming night. He would get through this. He had to. For his friends.

Pitch emerged into the gloom of his home, and walked over to where he had left Jack earlier that day. Pitch was darkly pleased that the enslavement spell he had used could last for so long, but Pitch suspected that it was in part due to Jack's now shattered will. Pitch circled Jack for a moment, to take in the little prickle of fear, before he gestured toward one darkened area of his lair, "Let's go, Jack. I've found some children who haven't yet experienced any fear. What better way to greet them than with a touch of ice and a caress of shadows?"

Jack followed along after Pitch, making no move or words of protest when Pitch slid a hand across the pale teen's shoulders, and took him into the darkness.

Inside the cage his mind had become while in this nightmare, Jack was screaming in absolute mental anguish. He wanted this torment to end, but knew that as long as Pitch could siphon fear from him, he wouldn't be removed from the world. It left Jack in a helpless rage he could do nothing about. To make things even worse, Jack knew it was a nightmare, and he worried just how long Pitch would be able to drag it along this time. Jack wasn't sure at this point if he'd be able to keep his sanity when he finally woke up. The pale teen hated the thought of hiding from Pitch amongst his friends, but if that's what needed to be done to prevent Pitch from doing this on a regular basis, he would do it.

Pitch reveled in the fear as he moved the two of them through the shadows. He wondered just how long he'd be able to keep Jack around before he'd have to put the winter spirit out of his misery. Pitch smiled lazily as he and Jack stepped out of the shadows. It wouldn't be any time soon.

Jack's wordless fear was quite intoxicating, and it would be a shame to lose that. After all, the thought of Jack seeing everything that he was doing and unable to stop himself was such a wonderfully evil thing that Pitch had come to like quite a bit. Looking into those ice blue eyes and seeing the pain and fear and, eventually, the pleading for him to stop this already was insidiously delightful. Pitch looked up at the dark night sky, where the man in the moon was barely visible. Pitch sighed contentedly as he let the fear wash over him. He was going to enjoy this as long as he could draw it out. All of this fear around him, including Jack's own delicious fear. The Nightmare King didn't want it to end.

As Pitch walked forward, he was oblivious to the fact that Jack was bashing the cage of his mind desperately, as the last threads of hope for Pitch finishing him off that night left him. Soon after, the winter spirit just stopped fighting and watched dully as they approached their destination. Jack was resigned to the fact that his body just wouldn't listen to him. It didn't mean that he didn't try some days, despite the disappointing outcome.

The sudden sensation of his eyelids drooping gave Jack a small surge of hope that he hadn't felt in a long time, though he didn't miss Pitch make a rather irritable tsking sound. Whatever. Jack was going to finally wake up and deal with this problem. No use tip-toeing around Pitch anymore.

This nightmare was going to end, one way or another.

X-x-x

The reason these past few chapters got up so quickly was because they had already been mostly finished. Originally they had been part of a different story I was working on, but I decided that they would work well with this story when the idea first came to mind. I believe I caught any grammatical mistakes in this chapter, so it should read smoothly...though...I think it is very terrible of me to really like this chapter. It ended up way longer than I thought it would be. I don't know if that is a good or a bad thing, but with Pitch being in it...I couldn't help it.

So...thank you for the reviews/favs/follows. They make me very happy and motivate the heck out of me.

I'm seriously considering running my errands for today and then secluding myself in a coffee shop to type up the eleventh chapter out of its rough draft state. I'm thinking that the story will be done and the last two chapters will be posted before next weekend. One more main chapter left, and then the epilogue.