Chapter 13 – Where Darkness is Bred and Light is Found

I'm back! Sorry that this update took so long. I really did try to get this out earlier, but it really wasn't happening. I was finishing up my abroad program and decided to devote all my effort to that, and then adjusting back to life at home took longer than I anticipated, but you don't need to hear my ramblings… On with the story…

Previously

"What's going on, Jack?" Kyle snapped, worry coloring his words. "Where's Karla?"

Jack did not say anything, but simply pointed down. Before the two boys lay a hole that was almost obscured by tangled vines that had wrapped themselves around a decrepit bedpost.

A cold something wafted up from the hole and swept over the odd assemblage like death's final breath.

"What's down there?" Kyle whispered, his ire momentarily forgotten.

"It's Pitch's lair," Jack answered. "Pitch will be at his strongest down there. The place is like a maze of living darkness."

"Sounds fun," Kyle grumbled.

Moving as one unit, Kyle and Jack brought up their weapons and smashed through the vines blocking their path.

Karla would not suggest traveling by shadows to anyone. She hated it. She could tell anyone that by the first ride. The second ride was completely unnecessary and only reinforced her absolute dislike for this particular mode of travel. Her stomach rolled as all of her sense shut down, and she was floating, but not in the fun underwater kind of sense. It was more of a lost and disconnected feeling.

And there was also the apparent lack of courtesy Pitch had when it came to hosting guests, for Karla was unduly and rudely dropped onto a hard, cold floor that she assumed was Pitch's lair.

She stood slowly and shakily, taking in the high stone walls with solid columns and sweeping arches.

It was amazing from an architectural standpoint, especially since a lot of it did not seem physically possible, but its vastness and emptiness only made it seem lonely and very, very creepy.

"What do you think?" Pitch's low voice came from somewhere… deep, below, above… Karla really could not tell.

"Ever thought about hosting a haunted house," Karla asked. She brought out her knife and felt more confident with something solid in her hands. "You certainly have the space for it. You could cash in big during Halloween."

Pitch sighed, and Karla swore that it came from behind her, but when she turned no one was there.

"The problem with you teenagers is that you think you can't be scared any more," Pitch's voice commented. "One horror movie after another and then you think you're immune to the fear. But…"

A nightmare reared to life before her and screamed.

Stumbling back, Karla almost joined the nightmare with a cry of her own, but she managed to choke it back. Instead, she swung trembling arms at the nightmare, but the horse merely eyed the knife in her hands with contempt.

"Really, now," Pitch said somewhere off to her left. "I think teenagers have the most fear. With your childhood fantasies and nightmares not quite shaken off and the unknown of adulthood looming on the future's horizon… Make's for quite a potent mix, doesn't it?"

Pitch laughed and its sound echoed relentlessly through the winding space. Shadows danced across the darkness.

"Stop it!" Karla yelled.

Another bout of laughter replied.

"Stop it!"

As if answering her unspoken cry for help, a shaft of light blazed through the darkness, and Pitch snarled as if the light had been physical blow.

A figure appeared from the light. Karla would recognize it anywhere.

"Jack!" she nearly sobbed and ran towards the light.

Her feet pounded on the stone beneath her and she even used her hands to push herself along. Her whole being screamed at her to get close to the light—to get away from this darkness—to flee!

"Jack! Jack!" Karla's hands reached out towards to her friend, but to her horror, Jack only seemed to become smaller and smaller as if he were running in the opposite direction.

And this time Karla really did sob. She stopped her frantic, useless run and brought a fist to her mouth to stifle the sound.

A hand touched her, and Karla whirled with the knife cutting down wildly.

"Woah, Karla," a welcome voice said. "It's okay. It's me."

Jack was suddenly before her, and Karla grabbed his hoodie tightly in one shaking fist to confirm that, yes, he was real.

"Let's get you out of here," Jack murmured. He raised his free hand to bring her close to himself, but a wave of sand cut off the motion and they were flung apart once more.

"Karla!"

But the girl could not answer her friend as sand filled her gaping mouth.

"Ah, ah, ah," Pitch's voice said as if scolding naughty children. "You're playing by my rules here. And I'm not done."

Karla rode the wave of sand like a terrifying trip down rapids before they deposited her once more on solid stone. Shaking, Karla coughed up mouthfuls of sand and rubbed the grit from her eyes.

Above her empty cages hung on long chains and creaked in imaginary breezes. Karla shuddered at the thought of what they had once held or what they were supposed to hold.

If Pitch's lair were some sort of medieval castle, then Karla would guess that she was now in some sort of throne room based on its elaborate (although twisted) décor.

"Welcome."

Karla turned and saw Pitch standing before her with not a care in the world.

There was a scuffling sound behind her, and Karla turned in time to see the Guardians plus Kyle burst into the room.

Nightmares immediately formed ranks, blocking off the Guardians from Karla and Pitch.

"You don't seem to get it, Guardians," Pitch sneered. "My home, my rules."

"The girl does not belong to you," North bellowed. "Release her, and we will leave your filthy hole."

"You don't get it," Pitch shouted back. "I don't hold her here." Pitch held up his hands as if to prove his point. "Her own fear is what keeps her captive in this place."

"Stop saying that. I'm not afraid of you!" Karla screamed. She raised her knife in front of her body. "I've faced much worse than you."

The Nightmare King chuckled as if that amused him. "Really now? I'd like to know what could be worse than me."

Jack yelled out a warning, but Karla heard it too late for the Nightmare King had already reached and grabbed her chin roughly.

Karla's whole body went numb, and the knife clattered to the floor as smoldering golden eyes burned into her own.

Teary blue eyes blinked open, and Karla tried to smother her sniffles.

Feet ran past her, and Karla shrank further into the bush she was hiding under. The young girl tried to ignore her drippy nose and just breathe through her mouth. That proved just as useless since she was still hiccupping from her recent cry.

Daddy did not like it when she cried. He would be angry when he saw her like this.

"Karla?"

The five-year-old almost gasped with joy.

Her auntie had come to rescue her.

"Tia Esperanza!" Karla exclaimed, crawling out of her hiding place.

The dark-haired lady opened up her arms, and Karla climbed readily into the older woman's lap.

Esperanza was not really her aunt, but she said family ran deeper than blood. Esperanza was smart and she never lied, so Karla snuggled deeper into her aunt's embrace.

"What is wrong, mi amor?" Esperanza asked after placing a kiss on Karla's golden locks. "I come to pick you up, and you are in tears."

"Some of the older boys were mean," Karla mumbled. She did not want to talk about this. Her auntie was here, and everything was all right now. She did not want to think about those mean boys any more.

But her aunt was a stubborn woman.

"What did they say?" she prompted gently.

Karla picked at her nails, delaying.

"Mean stuff," she answered shortly. Esperanza tapped the child's knee expectantly, and the five-year-old added reluctantly, "About mama."

Esperanza hummed as though she understood.

"Is it true?" Karla asked. She turned around so she could see Esperanza's face. "Was my mama a slut?"

Esperanza's reaction was immediate. Her hazel eyes flashed with an unfamiliar ferocity, and her grip on Karla tightened.

"Ay! Don't say such words, especially about your mother," Esperanza scolded sternly.

Karla flinched at her aunt's tone, but she had to know.

"But was she?"

Esperanza met Karla's eyes and studied them as if weighing how much to tell her.

"She was many things," Esperanza began slowly. "She was beautiful. Carefree and adventurous. Young. Too young..."

Her aunt trailed off for a moment, and Karla knew her aunt well enough to know what she was thinking. Esperanza missed the mother Karla never knew. Mama was with the angels, Esperanza would always say, but it did not seem to make her any less sad.

"She was a good friend," Esperanza continued. "And smart, but... she also made some very unwise decisions. Mi amor, your mother made many mistakes, but she was not a slut. And she was so brave."

"Brave how?"

"She had you."

Esperanza touched the side of Karla's face, and something akin to wonder lit up her hazel eyes.

"Now, chin up!" she ordered as she wiped away the remaining tears on the child's face. "You know the truth now. Don't let anyone tell you different. Smile! You're beautiful like your mama when you smile."

Karla beamed for her aunt and was rewarded with a laugh like music.

"Ay dios mio, child! You'll be sweeping boys off their feet with a smile like that in no time."

Karla scrunched up her nose. "No. Boys are icky and mean."

Esperanza chuckled as she stood and took Karla by the hand.

"Let us go," Esperanza said. "You will stay at my place until your papa comes to pick you up at seven."

Esperanza began to sing a silly little tune in her strange language. Karla only understood a few words, but skipped happily to beat. She burst out into giggles as her aunt swung her up. Up, then down, and back again. Up and down. Again and again.

Her worries disappeared with the motion until the swinging stopped.

Karla's merry giggling turned into horrified sobs.

She was seven now, and had barely seen her aunt in the last few months. Now that she could see her aunt, Karla wished she hadn't.

They had told her cancer had taken her auntie. Karla had demanded to know why it could not give her back.

No one could answer her.

"No!" Karla cried. She reached out for her aunt, but hands of iron clamped around her shoulder, keeping her in place. "Tia! Tia Esperanza!"

The box closed over her aunt's sweet, still face.

Those iron hands turned her around, and she now was looking at eyes made of fire.

"Be quiet," her father growled out at her.

A fowl stench rolled off her father's tongue and slapped Karla across her face. The horrible smell scared her.

She quieted.

"Better," her father said. "Now will you continue to embarrass me?"

Karla shook her head.

"Good," he grunted.

The man plastered a respectfully mournful look on his face and went to talk to some other people. Karla sat heavily in her chair and observed her father behind blonde bangs.

Her father smiled when appropriate, forced controlled words out, kept his hands from shaking, and turned his fowl smelling mouth from people's noses. Her father knew how to play the part. Her father was strong, Karla decided. If he could hide his feelings, why couldn't she?

Taking in a shaky breath, Karla set her face to one of blank apathy, straightened her spine, and arranged her hands neatly in her lap.

Tears sprang up in her eyes, and Karla fought them back. She had to be strong. Strong like her father.

She clenched her hands into tight fists until pain flared up in her palms. Karla squeezed harder for the pain in her hands was much more manageable than the pain in her chest.

When her father came back for her hours later, Karla was still sitting. There was no sign of her tears.

Her father nodded once as if in approval. "Come."

Something light beat inside her chest, and she scampered off the chair and after her father.

Karla replayed the simple nod she had received from her father in her mind; it was the closest thing to a compliment her father had ever given her. She never noticed that the horrid stench from her father had gotten stronger.

"Don't fall behind," her father snapped.

Karla had to jog to catch up, but just when she was about to grab her father's hand, she suddenly found herself walking into her second grade classroom. It was only two days after the funeral. She had not wanted to go back to school so soon after Tia Esperanza's funeral, but her father would hear none of it.

She stumbled into class, bleary with sleep.

"Good morning," Miss Cashion said.

Karla turned to answer, but her foot got caught on the bottom of her too long skirt. The girl tumbled forward, and a hand came out to catch her.

Karla cried out in pain when the hand closed around her forearm. She did not remember the next few seconds, but she later found herself sitting against the teacher's desk and her jacket removed to show her bare arms.

"Karla," Miss Cashion said slowly. "Where did you get these bruises?"

Karla looked down to see the myriad of bruises that littered her arms. Miss Cashion was staring at one in particular that looked distinctly like fingers.

"I—"

Tell the truth, Tia Esperanza's voice whispered in the back of her mind.

"Daddy was teaching me a lesson," Karla said, remembering her father's words from last night, or at least the words she could pick out from all his slurring. "I was bad."

Karla hung her head in shame.

When Miss Cashion did not answer right away, Karla looked up and saw a deep frown that marred her usually kind face.

"Am I in trouble?" Karla asked hesitantly.

Miss Cashion shook her head. "Not at all, sweetheart."

She handed Karla back her jacket and told her to take her seat.

Later that night, her father smelled funny again.

He slapped her many times, but Karla did not say anything until the men in blue barged into their house and grabbed at her father.

"What did you say?" her father yelled at her along with many other words she did not know. Two of the men in blue wrestled her father out the door and into their black car. "What did you say?"

"Papa, Papa." Karla reached out for her father, but a man in blue held her back.

Karla opened her mouth and screamed.

She would later find herself sitting in an unfamiliar room. The men in blue told her many things there.

They had come because the neighbors had reported sounds of glass breaking.

They said Miss Cashion had reported the bruises on Karla's arms.

They said something about "domestic violence."

They finally stopped telling her things and asked if she had any questions.

Karla looked up at them. Her eyes were dry, but something inside her broke.

"When can I see Papa?"

A chilling laugh sounded behind her, and Karla whirled in her seat.

For a moment, she had thought the laugh had been her father's, but the dark man behind her was not her father.

"So this is your greatest fear?" the man in the black robes said.

Karla turned back around, but the men in blue where gone, leaving her alone with this strange man. She bolted out of her seat and ran to the door. She jiggled the knob, but it stuck fast.

"There is no escape from this, my dear Karla," the dark man said.

Karla pressed her back to the door and faced the man in black.

"Where is my dad?" Karla demanded. She narrowed her eyes and tried to look fierce. Her lower lips quivered.

"Trying to be brave?" the man sneered. "Trying to be strong like daddy dearest? Oh Karla, he's never coming back."

The brave face crumpled. Karla sobbed and fell to the ground.

A hand stroked her cheek.

"You loved him, didn't you? Despite everything he did to you? It was because you feared losing the last of your family, isn't it? He was all you had left."

Karla looked up at the dark man. Was it just her imagination or did he get bigger?

"That's it," the man purred. "Give me your fear."

Karla sobbed again, and this time, she let the tears fall.

The dark man made a noise like he was enjoying a great banquet.

"Karla!" a voice called out so faintly, she almost did not hear it. "Karla."

Her head jerked up, her eyes darting around the room, but there was only the Boogeyman, his eyes closed as he enjoyed his feast.

"Karla!"

"Jack?" Karla whispered.

The dark man choked as if a bone got lodged in his throat.

"Hey! Don't forget your number one annoying buddy!" another voice piped up.

"Kyle?" Karla added.

The dark man stared down at her in shock.

"What are you doing?" the man asked, but Karla could tell the question was not directed at her.

"You may have gathered fear while I was gone, but you're still not at your best, Pitch," Jack's voice answered. "Did you really think you could take on all five Guardians?"

Pitch leapt to his feet just as the walls of the police office began to crumble.

"No!" the Nightmare King screeched. "This is my nightmare, Sanderson. You have no power here."

In answer, the walls disintegrated faster.

The Nightmare King screamed, and black turned to gold.

It was mercifully quiet for a minute or two with no light or sound.

Eventually Karla realized her eyes were squeezed shut, and she blinked open her eyes to find herself in a deserted playground.

She was eight now and completely alone.

Karla sat totally still on the swing set with her back straight and hands folded, same as the day they had buried Tia Esperanza.

The winter wind blew though the playground, and Karla resisted the urge to shiver. She did not like Burgess, but she hardly had any choice in the matter when the social worker had dropped her off at her foster parent's house.

"Be a good girl," the lady had said. "The Leung family is very nice. I'm sure they will love you."

Karla refused to answer. She already had parents; she did not need foster ones.

"Are you going to swing?"

Karla looked up, and found a boy with hair and eyes the same rich, chocolate brown staring back at her.

"I'm waiting for Papa," Karla said. She straitened her spine and hoped the boy would get the hint.

He didn't.

"Are you going to swing?"

"You can use the other ones," Karla pointed out.

"I know. I wasn't asking so I could use it. It's just... The swing looks so sad with someone sitting on it, but not swinging on it. I mean, it's even in the name. You swing on a swing."

"Swings don't have feeling," Karla said.

"How do you know?" the boy shot back.

"Because they just don't. Leave me alone."

The boy pouted, but turned away.

"It's much more fun if you're swinging," he yelled over his shoulder.

Karla did her best to ignore him and smoothed our imaginary wrinkles in her clothing. She was so concentrated on keeping her back ramrod straight that she almost did not hear the patter of running feet. By the time she did, it was too late.

Something solid slammed into her back, and suddenly she was flying.

She let out a surprised yelp and held on to the chain link of the swing.

"What are you doing?" Karla yelled down at the brown-haired boy who kept pushing her higher and higher.

"See? It's more fun this way," he shouted back at her.

"You're crazy!" she yelled down at him.

The boy grinned. "So everyone keeps telling me."

"Let me down!"

"Nah-uh."

"Let me down now!"

The boy did not respond this time, but merely focused on his pushing.

Eventually, Karla got tired of shouting at the boy to let her down. She even punched him once, but that only seemed to make him more determined to get her higher into the air.

Karla contemplated jumping, but the idea sent her stomach rolling, so she shut her eyes, telling herself the boy had to get tired some time.

In her dark world, she was suddenly flying. She went up; her spine loosened. She went down; the little, mean boys calling her mama a slut went silent. Up; the image of Tia Esperanza's box disappeared from her mind. Down; she could no longer remember that fowl stench that colored her father's breath. Up. Down. Again and again.

She did not mean to start laughing, but at some point, her ponytail had come loose and the tickling hairs made her giggle.

The boy laughed right along with her, and underneath it, Karla swore she could hear Tia Esperanza's laugh too.

His name was Jack.

And the day that she met him, her life changed.

Being the incredibly friendly and adventurous boy that he was, Jack took her everywhere.

He introduced her to a redhead.

"Jack," the ginger boy whined. "Girls have cooties."

Karla punched him for that comment, and it was the start of another beautiful friendship.

Jack pushed her towards the shy brunette girl.

"Your hair would look pretty braided," the girl said.

Karla told her she did not know how to braid hair.

That day, she went home with a golden braid hanging over one shoulder and a promise from the brunette that she would teach Karla how to do it herself later.

Jack even walked her home some times.

"I just made cookies," Mrs. Leung said. "Come and take a plate for your family."

Not about to let free cookies slip through his fingers, Jack stepped into the house, saying over his shoulder, "You have pretty cool parents."

Karla was about to correct Jack—they were not her real parents—but the words froze on her lips. She simply nodded instead.

It was many years later and many adventures later. Karla came home to find her foster parents seated at the dining table. Her foster parents only sat at that table during the afternoon for one reason.

"Karla honey, we want to talk," Mrs. Leung said.

Karla sat down opposite her foster parents, going through her recent memories to see if there was something she did that was punishment-worthy.

"What's this about?" Karla asked cautiously.

Mr. Leung slid something in front of Karla.

Karla stared wide-eyed at the paper. The heading spoke for itself.

"It's your decision," Mr. Leung said.

There was a count of ten before Karla snapped into action. She all but ran out of the room, avoiding her foster parents' eyes, but not forgetting to grab the paper from the table. She flipped out her phone before she reached her room and barely managed to dial the number with trembling fingers.

He picked up after the first ring.

"What's up?" Jack's voice sounded from the other side of the line.

"I—I need—please, Jack," Karla stuttered.

"I'll be over in two minutes."

Before Karla could protest, Jack had hung up and was knocking at her door.

That afternoon was the quietest Karla had ever seen Jack. She laid out her entire story for the first time ever. She finished her story by showing Jack the paper.

"What should I do?" Karla asked.

Jack blinked at her in surprise. "Why ask me?"

"Because you always have the answer!" Karla wanted to scream at him, but she only shook her head, torn.

Arms encircled her in a warm hug.

"I only know one thing for certain about all this," Jack murmured. "You're so brave. You don't need me to tell you anything."

Karla nodded her head as she listened to Jack's steady heartbeat, gripping the adoption papers with a new sense of hope.

That night, Karla officially became a Leung, cutting all ties to the man she had once called "Papa."

That night, Karla finally arrived home.

When Karla opened her eyes again in that dark cavern, she and the Boogeyman were in the same exact position they had been when her vision had gone dark, so Karla wondered if any time had passed at all. She shifted and golden sand fell from her like fairy dust.

Pitch still had a grip on her chin, but it hardly bothered her any more.

"Let me go, Pitch," Karla commanded steadily.

"Trying to brave? To be strong like daddy?" Pitch sneered. "I thought you would have learned by now, Karla. That won't work."

"I know that," Karla said. Pitch frowned at her as if just starting to realize that he no longer had a grip on her fear. "I think instead I'll try to be strong like Jack Frost."

At the boy's name, Pitch's hand switched from her chin to her throat. He did not squeeze hard enough to cut off her air, but the threat was there and very real.

Karla could hear cries of outrage, and something—something sharp—pressed against her throat.

"Don't came any nearer," Pitch warned his onlookers.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Karla saw Jack falter in his approach.

Pitch noted everyone's hesitation with grim satisfaction.

Karla almost snorted at that. She needed no rescuer, not this time.

"Ever played hot potato?" Karla asked the Nightmare King.

Pitch switched his gaze back to Karla, confusion flickering across his face.

"I wonder if you're any good," Karla continued. "Only one way to find out."

Her left hand opened and revealed an ice bomb, her thumb already on the trigger. Not giving Pitch time to register what it was, she tossed it up into his face.

"This is my family," Karla said, using her free hand to sweep out towards Jack and Kyle. "Stay away from them."

Ice exploded between them.

Someone screamed. It might have been her or Kyle or Pitch. Perhaps it was all three of them.

Karla flew backwards and the still barely conscious part of her brain registered that she landed on something soft.

"Got ya, sheila," a voice said above her. "Crickey, are all of you as reckless as Jack?"

"Must of rubbed off on me some time ago," Karla muttered. Her teeth chattered. The oversized rabbit began rubbing her skin, and she nearly punched him for it. She did not like being touched, especially by mythical, creepy rodents. She tried to raise her hands to bat the rabbit away, but they refused to obey. It was then that she realized the Easter Bunny was trying to get her warm.

She glanced down and saw that ice covered her entire front half.

"You'll be lucky if you only get minor frostbite," Bunny muttered.

"Here," a deep voice said. A heavy red coat dropped into her lap, and Bunny wasted no time in bundling her up.

A yell caught Karla's attention, and she looked over to see Kyle throwing his ice bombs at lightning speed.

Pitch seemed to be having trouble fending off Kyle. Maybe it was because of all the ice in his eyes from Karla's attack.

"Pitch!" a young voice shouted.

Jack.

Karla strained to see him.

Jack flew at the Nightmare King, his staff raised.

"This ends now!"

Jack landed in front of Pitch, slamming his staff into the ground, and the whole world froze.

I hope the movement of the timeline wasn't too confusing. I was trying something new.

One more chapter to go people! Thanks again!

Answers to anonymous reviews:

Guest (1): Yep, Kyle and Karla are for sure going to be some trouble for the Boogeyman. Thanks for the review!

Guest (2): I can see what you mean by the repetitive bit. Unfortunately, that's what happens when I try to force/stretch a story, but I'll try to be more aware of it going forward (although there's really only one more chapter left). Thanks!

Dragonlovewater: Wow… you seem to have strong feelings about this. Don't worry. Most of the Jack-whumpage is done for now… Thanks for all the reviews!

Guest (3 and 4?): Thank you so much! Here's the update and sorry that it took so long.

~playing-in-the-mud