Zombie Apocalypse!
Zombie Apocalypse: That's it, they're done for. Might as well go down swinging right? Or maybe they can beat this thing….somehow
((technically they probably wouldn't even see pitch, plus he can just close up his lair, also nod would be p safe because you know living faster and stuff and they prolly wouldnt see him either BUT WHO NEEDS CANON LET'S DO THIS))
Pitch yelled, drawing back as the wide, bloody jaws came closer. Somehow he had gotten stuck with this Leafman, or Jinn, or whatever it was those tiny people were called, and now he was in this terrible mess. With a wave of his hand, nightmare sand rose up in a huge wave, pushing several of the monsters away in one go. With a grunt he kicked at another one of the creatures, and then seized Nod, who had just been about to be squashed. For some reason, since the outbreak of this disease amongst humans, Pitch had become unable to travel through shadows.
That had put a damper on his moods. With a cry he raised up a scythe of black sand, swinging it wildly at the moving corpses. It was awful. Yes, he could remove their heads from their bodies, but there were just too many. And his sand was weak. After that one strike, it crumbled into dust. He was absolutely weaponless. Nod could probably escape. He was quick and fast, and very minute. But Pitch was just as mortal as any human right now, almost completely powerless and very vulnerable. He was human-sized and no exception to the feasting of the zombies.
Pitch was backed up to the very end of the alley, back pressed against the wall with Nod on his shoulder. The creatures were climbing up the mound of carcasses, making their slow way towards Pitch. He gritted his teeth. No, this was not his ideal Friday.
The spirit looked up, searching for a solution. But there were only high-up windows on sheer walls. The building that gave the alley its right wall was about three stories high. Pitch's eyes fell closed as he breathed, becoming enveloped in the sounds of pained moaning.
And then he grabbed Nod.
"Wh-what are you doing?!" The Leafman yelled, struggling in Pitch's fist.
"Don't make me regret this." He merely hissed in response, and before Nod could say anything else, he hurled him up high. The figure was to land on the roof, a height he would never have been able to jump had he not been thrown.
Nod landed clumsily on the cement, hitting his side painfully. But he got up, moving to the edge of the roof to look down at Pitch, who was smaller. And there were only a few feet between him and the hungry, advancing creatures.
The spirit could barely see the tiny arm waving frantically at him from three stories above. He would never know what Nod was yelling at him. But he knew he gave him a chance to survive.
Nod could live.
As Pitch felt the rotted, decaying hand close around his arm, he closed his eyes.