Dark watched as Pitch shrank away in the last of the gloom, his golden eyes fading away as the tip of the sun rose over the horizon. She felt heavy hearted, but no less pleased with the task she had been left with. Piper and Jak stood either side of her , with Uni further off behind. Dark twisted her head slightly to make sure the Unicorn wasn't about to charge and attack her, and saw the creature rubbing her hoof with her head, leaving flakes of dried blood floating to the ground. Piper had told her Uni had eaten another Labrador for breakfast.

"Well thank god he's gone," Jak said as soon as Pitch and his Nightmare had left, fading into the dawn. "He really does make an exit, doesn't he?"

Dark shrugged. "He's Pitch Black, I suppose that comes naturally."

"No, nothing comes naturally, especially not cool ones. One time, I had just told this great story, about a flying man eating spider, and pointed behind the group of kids I was telling. When they turned, I turned into a gigantic wolf spider and leaped at them, then exploded into thousands of tiny spiders. That was fun."

"And the point of that was?" Piper asked him, frowning.

"That I am astoundingly, unquestionably, the most incredible being on this planet."

"What have I told you about lying?"

"That I should give it a go one day?"

"No, that you should never claim to be something you're not."

"But I've never claimed to be anything less than fabulous."

"Exactly."

"Excuse me?" Dark asked impatiently. "Are we done?"

"No," Jak said.

"Yes," Piper told her, glaring at him. "Now, shall we?"

Dark shook her head, turning away. "I can't."

Piper cocked his head, frowning at her. "You told Pitch you would, that's why he left this to you."

"No, but what if Jack's there? He can't see me with you, I can get you in, but you'll have to find the teeth on your own."

"Jack won't be there, and at any rate, I think I have something to help," Jak replied, his candle flickering through his smile. "I am, after all, spirit of Halloween."

"Oh no, not the-" Piper looked away as Jak pulled open his jacket and groped through the inside pocket, as though it could contain more than a wallet. Then, unfathomably, he began to pull out a mass of thick, black material, heaving with the effort. He held it up with a skeletal hand before fishing out a mask to hold up beside it.

Dark laughed, then realised he wasn't joking. "No. No way."

"Why not?"

"Because... just look at it."

"Well," Jak sighed, clicking his fingers. "That's a shame, because Pitch doesn't trust many people, and he left this very big, very important task to you. Pity if he found out you wouldn't do it, eh?"

Pitch arrived in the small, dark urban suburb of London, the night only just starting. The Nightmare under him shook nervously, impatiently stamping the ground, but trying to escape his attention. It was the same Nightmare that had been bothering him for the last eight months, ever since he had retreated back to his lair. It was the one that had changed.

Dismounting, he shooed it off towards the filthy and run down apartments, it kept glancing back at him, but he followed it anyway, through an alley littered with shattered glass and into a complex barely lit by filthy yellow lights. They crept up to the second floor, and Pitch could feel fear seeping through every door, not one single occupant without a shred of unhappiness. Ah, human slums. What a delight on such a fine, cold and dark night.

The Nightmare stopped at the very end of the corridor, turning it's head to look back at him one final time. "Show me," Pitch hissed angrily. "Show me who has changed you."

With a small whine, it disappeared through the stained door. Pitch cocked his head and continued to follow, flowing through the thin wood into the derelict apartment.

It was tiny, with ilth covered carpet and peeling wallpaper. The television was on, showing a violent horror film, and a man lay snoring in an armchair in front of it, an unlit cigarette in his mouth and empty bottle in his hand. His damp, dirty singlet was rolled up over a large, hairy stomach, and there were black shadows under his eyes. Pitch shook his head in disgust, summoning a Nightmare with a click of his fingers and sending it zooming over to him.

The changed Nightmare had moved on, towards a side room, where the scent o fear was strongest. Pitch had a feeling what he would find inside, the same feeling he had felt the last eight months. It had taken him that long to track down the Nightmare that was no longer his, to make it lead him to its new master.

The door to the room was ajar, and Pitch noticed the lock had been beaten off it savagely. A soft, murmuring voice rose from inside. "Bad horse. I haven't seen you for over a week. Where were you, Lil? What were you doing?"

Pitch slipped through the door to see a thin, dark boy sitting up in his bed, a threadbare blanket wrapped over his pale body. The room was empty but for the bed and a small, broken wardrobe beside him.

The boy reached a shaky hand out to stroke the Nightmare, his long dark hair falling over his eyes, which, like his father, had black shadows beneath them, but one was slightly larger. A bruise. The Nightmare noticed Pitch within the room and drew back, whinnying.

The boy's head snapped up, and he started once he spotted Pitch above him. Defiantly, he furrowed his brows and snarled like a cornered animal. "What did you do to Lilith?"

"What did you do to her?" Pitch replied, studying the boy's face. The longer he looked, the more bruises appeared, along his arms, neck and face. "Who are you?"

"I didn't do anything," the boy snapped. "Lilith is mine, and if you come any closer she'll kill you."

"No she won't. She can't protect you. She didn't, did she? She can't stop your father when he's drunk; she can't stop the others at your school- when you bother to turn up." Pitch pulled each thought out of the boys head as each wave of terror rushed through him. This child was unstable, broken and tormented. How on Earth did he steal his Nightmare? "Now,who are you?"

"Who are you?" The boy was trying to look fierce, despite the shaking in his hands. His eyes flickered to the door and window.

Pitch sighed. "Foolish boy, you can make this a lot easier by telling the truth. Who are you, and what did you do to my Nightmare?"

"Lilith is mine! And take one step forward and she will hurt you." There was so much menace in the boy's voice that Pitch's resolve wavered or a moment; he almost believed him.

"She can't hurt me- she can't hurt anything-"

"Yes she can," the boy insisted, and Lilith tossed her head. "She hurt Hannah and Lucas! She pushed them off the roof! And then we made Alex hurt the teacher!"

Pitch froze. His Nightmares shouldn't have been able to hurt human children, not outside of their dreams. Either this boy was lying or... he cocked his head, inspecting the boy. "When did you first see... Lilith."

The boy seemed to sense the change in Pitch's voice, and he shifted in his bed, glancing again towards the door. "I had a nightmare, and then, I made it stop. When I woke up, Lilith was there. How did you get in? Are you Voldemort?"

Ignoring the Voldemort question, Pitch bit his lip, thinking. There was something different about this child, he felt. And it was something to be used. "What do you mean you 'made the nightmare stop'?"

"I dreamt I was lost in a forest, and there were wolves chasing me," the boy replied cautiously. "I was scared, and I didn't want to be... so I became a wolf, and chased Lucas. Did my father let you in?"

"No, he didn't. Who's Lucas."

The boy blushed. "He's a guy from school. He's in hospital now. Are you going to kill me?"

"I'm not. Listen, child. I can take you away from here. If you help me, I won't hurt you, and you will never have to see your father again."

"Are you going to lock me up because of the teacher?" he asked. "Because I didn't do it! Alex had the knife, ask him, he doesn't remember where he got it!"

"This isn't a punishment. I have more Nightmares. If you show me what you did to Lilith, what you did to Alex, you can live where ever you want, do what ever you want. But I want your help. Come with me, and you will be a prince."

The boy had look very tempted, until Pitch mentioned the word 'Prince'. He snorted. "I'm not stupid, don't lie to me!"

Pitch frowned angrily. How could this child refuse him? He was the king of fear! He got what he wanted. "Ask your... Lilith then, she can tell you."

"Oh, I will," the boy replied, looking cocky at Pitch's stepping down. "Tell me what he wants, Lil."

Pitch watched as the Nightmare and the boy stared into eachother's eyes, annoyed. He couldn't even hear what they were saying. Whatever the child had done to the Nightmare -Pitch refused to name her- he had changed her irreversibly. The boy frown, and looked up at Pitch. "Are you sure? Really?"

Lilith neighed, and he stroked her gently before standing up, revealing too-long pyjama pants and a ripped t-shirt. He looked up at Pitch and gave a sly smile that almost gave Pitch shivers. "My name's Jaxon, I'm going to trust Lilith."

Pitch gave a small, creepy smile of his own back at the child. What a fine fearling he'd make. "Get dressed, then we have a lot to discuss."

Please tell me anything you think might be wrong with the chapter, and what you think about Jaxon. Pretty please vote and comment!