Okay, first I wanted to say: thanks for the reviews! Also, sorry about the slight error in the previous chapter. It should have read 'Chapter 24', not 'Chapter 23'. This is chapter 25. Just to avoid confusion. Enjoy!

Chapter 25: Taken

Melinda didn't stop running until she was on the other side of the Realm, where Pitch wasn't likely to hear her. Once she was certain that there was a good amount of distance between them, Melinda let it all out. Her knees gave way under her. She howled like a banshee, her howls drenched in fear and sorrow. She pressed her palms against her forehead as her tears spilled down full-blast. The pain in her chest was so great she almost wished she had no heart. At least she'd be spared from this kind of affliction.

She couldn't believe it. Pitch was...was dying. He'd looked like some hundred-year-old vase. But why hadn't he said something? Why had she kept her in the dark?

Even as she asked this to herself, Melinda saw the answer. He hadn't wanted her to worry. But the realization just made her more frustrated. Hadn't he been the one to say that a bitter truth was better than sweet lies? His entire job was based on truth. He showed people their greatest and deepest fears so that they could become stronger. But why had she been a different case? Had he thought her too weak to be able to cope?

Slowly, Melinda's sobs died. Her ragged pants returned to regular breaths, and she dried her cheeks with her black cloak. Using the cold, rough stone for support, she pulled herself up once more.
An idea was forming in her mind. It was risky, but it was the only way. It could upset the balance and make the guardians act...but honestly, what did Melinda care? She wanted her father back.

She suddenly became aware of the mask in her grip. She looked down; the snake's empty sockets stared back at her almost expectantly. It was practically asking her, 'So, are we doing this or not?' Melinda licked her cracked lips and slowly brought the mask to her face. The moment it was on, it was as if Melinda had put on a new identity.

She wasn't just Melinda anymore. She was the Bringer of Nightmares.

Three days later...

"North! This'd betta' be good!" Bunnymund snapped as he adjusted the leather straps on his feet, "I only got four months 'til Easter!"
"Trust me, is good." North's usually-jolly voice was gravely serious. He looked at his fellow guardians one by one, "Zee children...zey are being threatened again."

Nobody gasped, but everyone froze at whatever they were doing: Tooth actually stopped chattering to her mini-fairies, Sandy's gold airplane halted in mid-flight, Molly looked up from polishing her gun, and Jack paused in the action of freezing his eggnog.

Finally, the silence was shattered.

Molly gripped her iron gun tightly. Her voice was as hard as a steel knife, "Who?"

"I zink it is Pitch." North answered sullenly, "For look! At least ten percent of children have stopped believing!"

Everyone turned their attention to the enormous globe. While it would look normal to most onlookers, the guardians' eyes were trained to recognize even the tiniest difference. Indeed, the lights were still twinkling brightly, but at least one out of ten lights had died out.

"What..." Jack straightened, "What's going on here? Is Pitch back?"

"I don't think so." Tooth answered, "We haven't seen him since..." Her violet eyes darted to Molly, "...y'know."
Molly winced and rubbed the spot where she'd been stabbed. Jack put a hand on his friend's shoulder before saying, "Yeah, now that you mentioned it, Pitch didn't seem too interested in gettin' back into action."

"But who else could this be?" Bunny retorted, "Kids don't just stop believin'! There's gotta be a reason! And that scum-suckin' ding bat's the only one who'd do this." He pulled out two boomerangs, "I say we go to that dag's place and choke him with his own sand! It's all he deserves!"

"Oh, sure, rabbit!" Molly said sarcastically, "Let's just go marching into enemy territory and let his Fearlings rip us to shreds! That'll definitely help the children, won't it?"

"Stuff it, sheila!" Bunny pointed a boomerang at her, "Yer still new here. Ya don't know what it's like, havin' that blighter buzzin' around in yer face like a gnat. Why don't we just swat him down already?"

"Enough!" North shouted, sound uncharacterically angry. Immediately, Molly and Bunny stopped arguing and looked at Father Christmas almost bashfully. North nodded at their silence before saying, "Ve do not know if zis is Pitch's doing yet. I say ve zend Sandy out dere to see."

Sandy frowned and formed a question mark over his head.

"You interact more vith zee children more zan us." North explained, "Da, I zee dem on Christmas and Jack on his snow days, but you give zem sweet dreams ev'ry night. You are perfect for zeeing who is tormenting zee children."

Even Bunny nodded at that, "Makes sense."

Sandy gave North a salute before waving his hands. A large cloud of glittering gold sand formed an inch from the ground. Sandy jumped on it and waved at his fellow guardians as it brought him to the humans.

Once the Sandman was gone, Jack turned to North, "Do you really think he'll find out who it is?"

"Da," North looked at Jack with a soft, sad smile, "Ve must be hopeful, Jack. Without hope, ze world would be lost. Hmm?"

Jack hesitated before slowly nodding. His father-figure was right. They couldn't just wallow in despair. They had to believe that they could succeed. After all, that was the first step to victory: believing.

Melinda leaned against the fence of a backyard, panting and sweating. She pulled her mask off for a minute to dab her face. This was really starting to wear her down, and the five extra pounds of Nightmare Sand she'd stolen was beginning to run out. Plus, she was hungry, thirsty, and in desperate need of a shower. She was practically bathing in her own sweat!

But she couldn't give up. Not yet. She was doing so well.

Yes, that's right. She'd spent the last three days and three nights turning all dreams into nightmares. Melinda knew she was upsetting the balance; while a little fear was needed, too much of it made the whole world unravel. But deep down, she didn't really care about the consequences of her actions. She knew for a fact that fear acted as Pitch's nourishment. While she needed food and drink to live, her father depended on fear to be able to get up.

Ergo, the more fear that festered the air, the stronger he would be.

Melinda still couldn't rid herself of the image she'd seen. Of her father covered in ugly cracks, like a broken porcelain doll. It was like the picture had been stamped to the back of her eyelids. She had to swallow back a sob every time she thought about it.

She couldn't let Pitch die. He didn't deserve it. Even if the guardians wrote him off as some great evil spirit, he was so much more than that. They'd know that if they'd bothered to look underneath his scary smile and cold eyes. He was a man who bore many scars. He missed his daughter; a daughter who didn't even remember him. He was incredibly intelligent and learned. He was wise in his own way and didn't try to bite off more than he could chew. He could be stern, but he had a kinder, softer side. All he needed was a little attention and he bloomed.

Such a being didn't deserve to crumble away like some forgotten piece of pottery.

Wiping her eyes, Melinda slipped her mask back over her face. She still had around three-quarters of a pound left, and after that she'd be forced to go back to the Realm. Would her actions really make a difference, or would she only succeed in making Pitch furious?

Oh, well. Only one way to find out.

Melinda pulled out the list she'd been carrying. Three days ago, she'd stopped at an Internet café and written down every city, town, and village in America, Europe, and Australia. One by one, she'd crossed them out and infested each place with four times the number of nightmares as before. She'd only stop for a couple of hours to rest; she couldn't get too tired, but she couldn't slack off, either.

She crossed out San Diego.

Next stop: St. Louis.

She clicked her tongue, and Nyx walked towards her. Melinda sighed and stroked the Night Mare's snout. "I know, girl. You're tired. But think of Pitch." Nyx whinnied, but didn't pull away.
Melinda reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a large white carrot. Nyx sniffed it hopefully. Melinda allowed herself the flicker of a smile, "Yeah, that's right. Petroselinum root. Hemlock." She tossed it in the air, "Knock yourself out." Nyx chomped it down in two bites, neighing happily.

"Great. You're fed. Now let's go; we still got twenty-two cities to visit." Melinda adjusted her mask to make sure it wouldn't fall off and mounted Nyx.

She didn't notice the small, golden man watching her from the clouds.

A young man was curled up in a smelly, musky bed. His elbow was still covered in red dots, but otherwise he looked pacific. As his breathing evened, a sliver of golden sand entered his window and hovered above his head. It took on the shape of himself on a beach with a bunch of models serving him tropical drinks. His slacken face twisted in a perverted grin.

A dark figure stepped out of the shadows, a smirk on its pale, masked face. "Oh, what a charming dream." She whispered, "Leave it to a junkie to think of the impossible."
Melinda was actually disgusted. What was the point in this guy drooling over something that could never happen?

Unfortunately, she didn't have enough Nightmare Sand to create black sparrows. She had just enough for one more nightmare. One more, then she'd take her leave.

Her black glove reached into the gourd...

A gold whipped curled around her wrist, burning her like a flame.

"Ow!" She yelped, whirling around, "What the...?"

The Sandman. He was looking at her like she was a rat in his kitchen. He tightened his grip on the whip, making her whimper. Melinda pulled out her dagger and tried to cut the whip, but it turned to gold once it touched the dream sand. She gasped and dropped the knife, where it clattered on the dirty floorboards. The young man shifted in his sleep, but thankfully he didn't wake up.

Melinda sighed. She couldn't get out of this. Sandman had to be the one to free her, and judging by his expression, that thought hadn't crossed his mind just yet.

"Please." She tried, "Let me go."

Sandman shook his head, and pictures formed above his head. Melinda saw herself passing several sleeping children. Every time she passed by a child, the kid started bawling. Melinda felt a tremor of shame, but she still kept her voice even, "Please. I'm not doing this because I want to."

Sandman's expression softened slightly. He tilted his head, wanting more of an explanation.

Melinda sighed again and, after pausing, tore the serpent skull from her face. Even though her face had paled and lengthened slightly, it was still pretty much the same as it had been before. The golden man recognized her instantly, proven by his widening eyes and loosening hold on the whip.

"If I don't do this," Melinda said softly, "My father will die. Please, let me go."

Sandman might have let her go, but Melinda never found out. The young man in the bed happened to open his eyes for a second...and spotted her.

"Hey!" He barked.

Melinda gasped and whirled around, her eyes wide with terror.

"Who the fuck are you?!" The man shouted, turning his lamp on. Melinda, of course, didn't answer. She bolted for the window, trying to make it back to Nyx. But the man tackled her, pinning her to the ground. Melinda struggled to squirm free, but this guy was a lot heavier than she'd have guessed. That, and he had an arm coiled around her neck, blocking the air. Sandman stood there helplessly. He'd finished his dream sand too, and if this guy didn't believe, Sandman was powerless.

"Who. Are. You?!" The guy pinned Melinda down, grabbed her by the hood, and turned her around.

Their eyes met, and it was like time stopped. Melinda hadn't noticed at first, but this guy had olive skin, and curly dark hair.

And chestnut eyes. Just like herself.

Marco cracked a smile, "Well, well, well. Hey, cuz."

Melinda punched him in the nose, making him cry out and loosen his hold. Melinda seized the chance to scramble out of the room and into a grimy corridor.

Before she could reach the stairs, though, another door swung open. A tall, hairy guy saw her and grabbed her by the elbow. Melinda tried to pry his fingers off, but it was no use. "Let go of me!" She shouted.

Ignoring her, the guy grabbed a handful of her hair and turned to Marco, "Who's this, M?"

"My little cousin. Remember, the murderer?" He asked, holding his bleeding nose. His eyes twinkled, "We're gonna have some fun, Cole."

Before Melinda could attack again, a hand pinched the back of her neck. Her eyes rolled back, and she fell in an unconscious heap in Cole's meaty arms.

Sandman flew off, his gold eyes wide with panic. He had to tell the guardians, fast!