A/N:

Hey guys. How are you doing?

Now, the reason I'm updating sooner than normal is...I'm getting sick. Okay, people?

And I wanted to get this last chappie out before I get bedridden for an indefinite amount of time.

So here you go.

This is, surprisingly enough, not a request for anyone. This is just my personal headcanon, that all the Guardians have Dark/Evil counterparts. Like North has Krampus and Sandy has Pitch. Tooth also has an OC of mine (a Hungarian spirit named Serule [SEH-RU-leh]) and I'm working on Bunny's.

And then I began thinking about Jack's counterpart and...this happened.

The basic story is that everyone has a dark side, but Guardians can't have dark sides. So when a Guardian takes their Oath, their dark side is literally separated from them and becomes its own person.

Now take Jack, who has three hundred years worth of demons to carry...when his dark side is separated from him, what happens?

Chaos.

Disclaimer: Don't own RotG. Do own Kvol, so don't steal him.

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.-Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"

Every person, no matter how good, innocent, or caring, has a dark side.

No exceptions.

Now normally, this is not a problem. Most people choose to suppress their darker half, focusing instead on the good parts of life. Others choose to let their two sides work in conjunction, their personalities turning into a strange mix of good and bad, black and white, until all their feelings and morals attain a washed-out grayish color. Others still let their darker half remain dominant, and these are the most dangerous.

But what happens when you become a Guardian?

What happens when keeping your darker half is no longer an option?

What happens to your darker half then?

Why, they become their own person, of course…

Something was wrong.

Or right.

Whatever.

The point is, something was definitely different.

It had started soon after he took his Guardian Oath:

Before, he had demons. No one can remain entirely sane after three hundred years of being alone (no, his brief time as a Protector* did not count—in fact, the eventual massacre of his friends and coworkers only served to make his demons stronger) and he himself was no exception, immortality or no immortality. The end result was that he eventually ended up with a dark, resentful corner of his mind which seemed oddly fascinated with death and destruction and which he suppressed to the best of his ability.

He had also named it Kvol, just for the heck of it, but that's beside the point.

But now, for some reason, he no longer had any demons to suppress. Because ever since he took his Guardian Oath, Kvol had simply...disappeared.

At first, he attributed it to his newfound place among the Guardians, resigned to the knowledge that it was only the thrill of no longer being alone that chased away his demons, and that sooner or later, he would once again hear Kvol's deriding taunts in the corners of his mind. But that day never came.

As much as Jack would like to deny it, it unnerved him. His demons were a part of him, the two linked in a deadly dance of dark and light and black and white, both fighting for dominance. To have his longtime foe simply vanish was worrying.

And as much as he tried to stifle the feeling, in a strange way, he also missed Kvol. That cruel, heartless voice had brought horrible torment to him, it was true, but it was one of the few constants in his tumultuous life. No matter where he went or what he did, Kvol would always be there, mocking him. And a part of him had enjoyed the constant interaction with his foe, imaginary and hurtful though he was. At least it was someone.

All in all, he was worried.

He flew haphazardly, barely paying attention to his surroundings as he kept his ears alert for a sound, any sound, from Kvol.

Nothing.

He shook his head. What was he doing? Was he actually wishing for his tormentor to come back? How sick was he?

If Kvol had really gone for good, than it was more along the lines of a good riddance than anything else.

He should be happy.

And so, ignoring the hollow feeling in his chest, Jack soared away to the Pole, his trademark mischievous grin on his face.

He did have a bit of a lesson to teach to the elves, anyway. No one dipped his hoodie into a vat of chocolate sauce and got away scott-free.

The snow-covered forest was silent.

The thin hiss of steam broke that silence.

Quietly, the figure strolled through the trees, steam rising at every step as his bare feet touched the snow, turning the snow to steam on contact. His tattered ash-gray cloak brushed against a branch, setting it aflame.

The figure stopped.

His hazel-orange eyes stared into the sky, the only visible feature of his hooded face. They glinted with fury, grief, and madness.

And he chuckled. A low, sinister sound, like pebbles tumbling down the side of a roof.

"...Missed me, Jackie?"

A/N

Jack hears voices and has an imaginary friend/enemy/torturer. Yay.

*The Protectors were a group of three spirits, dedicated to protecting the world from various demons and evil spirits. Jack joined their ranks in 1907, and remained with them for over fifty years. Unfortunately, the three original members all died gruesome deaths on June 12, 1963, leaving Jack alone to grieve their deaths. He never fully recovered.

The Protectors are mine. Don't steal them.

Side note: Kvol means "torment" in Icelandic.

Review? ^^