Pitch could not move. He barely breathed. He sat there against the rock, on his knees, unable to comprehend the events that had just transpired. He had been cornered by his own nightmares, unable to stop the rampaging stallions as they came for him, but someone, or something saved him. The image of Blacks face was burned into his eyes, no matter how much he blinked, he could not get rid of the picture. He remembered her new divine white eyes, sending a shiver down his spine. That was the only thing that was different from the little fearling he created four hundred years how could it be her? He had seen her die with his own eyes, whats more he caused her demise, yet not a minuet ago he stood face to face with her. It was not possible. The strange figure he saw just could not be Black. Why would she wish to save him at all? He thought to himself. After everything he had done she hated him, He had tried to murder her not a few days ago! Whatever that THING was, it wasnt Black.

He slowly stood, and silently slithered around the path, back the way he had came, carefullly looking around corners incase his nightmares returned. When he had kidnapped Black from Bodie, he had the power he needed to crush the Guardians, he no longer feared them. when Black had destroyed the crystal, he lost that power, and regained that fear of the Man on the Moons servers. Ever scince then they had become more intent on capturing him again. He swore he could even sense anger emitting from them. As he quietly treeked through the darkened woods, searching for the broken bed frame that led to his original home, he tried again to form a logical explanation to the figure he saw.A number of absurd possibilities grew in his head, all quickly being disproved and dispelled or simply thought ridiculos and forgotten. At one point he had thought her a ghost, but he knew ghosts, he knew them very well. The lost souls helped spread the fear that sustained him, but what he saw was no ghost.

His head began to ache before he would give up. He had been so wrapped up in the oddities identity that he almost passed right by the opening to his hollow. The nightmares would find him here eventually, but at least he could rest comfortable here until then. Once inside he found his hollow globe glowing brilliantly in the darkness, taunting his failures. He crossed his slanted bridge with ease, and snaked around dark halways hidden within the hundreds of shadows that lived here with him. He came to a small, almost empty bedroom. The only contents were a large bed, covered in black silken sheets, and a large mirror that stood from floor to celling against the dark gray walls. He crawled on top of the cold sheets, resting his tired bones on the firm matress. He breathed slowly, trying to relax his muscles. His eyes were shut, but he was far from asleep. Blacks face seemed to be permently etched in the back of his eye lids.

He was unable to find a reasonable explanation to seeing Black. The closest thing he could fathom was that the Man on the Moon had revived her somehow, he had done it before with that over happy Guardian Jack after all. But Jacks body was not imprisoned and destroyed as Blacks was. Being sealed inside a crystal was much different from simply falling into the ice. There was nothing physically to bring back. and Black was HIS creation, not the Man on the Moons, how much of an effect could the other worldly being have on his fearling? Putting all logic aside, and going along with the fantastic illisuion that Black really was alive and well, he was unsure of how it made him feel. A part of him was happy that his creation and once 'friend' wasnt dead as he presumed, while another part of him was furious that the one responsible for his latest failure had survived and was still tredding through this world with him. He was not sure why the little part of him was relieved at the possibility she was alright, but then again he was also unsure why he would wish her dead if he could. His heart fought against itself and the conflicting emotions worsened his migrain, setting him in a disturbing confusion.

He layed there for what seemed like hours to him until he could no longer take it anymore. His eyes snapped open and he grit his teeth in frustration, unable to get the rest he desparetly needed. The only thing that would cease his waring feelings was to deny that it was Black that he saw. It was easy considering that he still could not find a plausible way for Black to be alive at this point, but the blessiing was also a curse, as the lack of an explanation toyed with his mind as his emotions did his heart. He growled deep within his decided to just forget about the creature all together and he prayed that he would never again meet the imposter, but as he spoke the words in his mind, he heard the horribly familiar thudding of hoof beats in the distance. As he began to run from the sounds, all other thought left his head. He knew to run, and for now thats all he could think of. Run.

Grimm stood before an opening in a rocky cliff, knowing about the house of horrors hidden was the place Pitch had brought her, and stole her power to create a new dark palace within the stone. The painful memories caused her to shutter, but she pressed on inside. After the night of fighting, her death and rebirth, and the job Manny had given her, Grimm was exausted, and needed a place to find proper rest. She hoped that because of the memories of his failure, and the damage done during the battle, Pitch would not return, and this was the only place away from any kind of city she could think of. She would have loved to go back to Bodie, in her own bed with her precious books, but she was worried that Jack might try and find her again, so she decided not to return until she was absoloutly sure she was safe again. She had said as much in her letters, and hoped Jack was watching over her books like she had asked. She would be heart broken if she returned to find them in a dusty state, covered in mold and wearing away with age. Most were already old and falling apart to begin with. She had stolen them from dump sites and garbage cans after all.

The Opening was narrow, but not as dark as Grimm had remembered. She swore she saw a faint light burning ahead of her, and as she continued inward, she was suprised to find she was right. Pitchs old throne room had been compleatly remodled. The hole in the celling was spread until there was no roof at all, the room was compleatly open to the sky and its elements. The cracks and chips in the wall had vanished, leaving only a ring of beach ball sized crevaces that Grimm guessed were for lanterns. In place of Pitchs throne (Which Grimm was glad to see gone) stood an enormous tree carved from stone, rigid and rough, but maintaining a sense of awe and beauty. Grimm guessed that it must be at least fifty feet tall, and the trunk five feet in diameter at its base. Grimm guessed that the Man on the Moon had left it there for her, and she was delighted to see that a few of her returning crows had already taken nest amoung the branches.

As if on cue the moon, centered in the middle of the sky, and directly above the stone tree, shone brightly, illuminating the cave in a soft siver light. " Manny its beutiful!" Grimm whispered. she smiled gently at the moon as it dimmed once more. The crows glided down onto a few lower branches as Black placed a hand on the trunk, admiering the smooth surface. They watched her pleasantly as she traced an image on the stone. One cawed, and flew down, landing softly on Grimms head. It bent its head downward, until it was far enough to catch Grimms eyes. the action made her chuckle, and she rubbed her nose to the birds beak. It cawed happily, and flew off to rejoin its flock. For creatures of death, they are rather perky. Grimm laughed to herself. After a few paces around the room (which she had deemed, Stone-Tree, for obvious reasons,) She found a long hallway hidden within the shadows. The entire place seemed to be covered in darkness, but Grim didnt mind. In fact, she almost likd it. Still have to find some kind of light though, she thought, cant read in this place!

After trying a few rooms, she found one containing a large, double bed and a tall mirror clinging to the wall. Shocked, Grimm found that the bed had four shackles chained to it, two at the head and two at the foot. she felt sick to her stomach as she imagined what Pitch had placed them there for. with a few hard tugs, she managed to tear them loose, and tossed them into a corner. she approched the mirror, curious as to what she might look like now. Nothing much had changed about her, same face, same pale skin, same shaggy black hair, but her new white eyes caught her off guard. She blinked once or twice, studing her own orbs in the mirror. She liked these better, she decided. She brushed her bangs our of her eyes to better see her face. The movement caused her cloak to shift around her, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught something black on her neck .

She hesitantly pulled back the fabric, and ghasped. In the very crook of her neck, two black cresent shaped marks had been carved in her flesh. She traced them lightly with a finger. They felt odd, cold even. She knew right where they came from, and it made her knees shake. " Pitch " She whispered his name as if saying it out loud might summon him. Those where his bite marks he had left on her when he kidnapped her. She quickly pulled the fabric back over the scars. He branded her, she realized. He actually marked her as his. she had to sit down on the edge of his bed her legs were shaking so badly, but the matress only brought back the awful images of the shackles again. No. she thought. I cant be afraid of him anymore. He is gone, and I beat him. She straitened her hood, revealing half of the cresents, painfully obvious against her pale skin. They werent branding marks, they were battle scars, a mark of her stuggle and victory against the Nightmare king himself. She felt a sense of pride having them.

She yawned, letting go of her worries about the marks. She came for rest, and she wanted at least a few minuets of sleep before the tug of names began prodding her again. she crawled up the bed, unceremoniously flopping herself on top of the black covers. She inhaled deeply, trying to relax herself, but quickly wished she hadnt. She shot up, supporting her weight with one hand and covering her mouth and nose with the other. It still smells like him. She groaned. She sniffed at the sheets once more, and grimaced. Sure enough her nostrils were met with the sickeningly sweet smell of fear. She shook her head, and layed back down. She would get over it and the scent would go away eventually. She thought. Still, her nose wrinkled as she slowly fell into a light sleep.

She woke two hours later, and stared at the shackles lying abandon in the corner. They reminded her of Pitchs horrible intentions, and she could not stand looking at them any longer. She scooped them up in her hands, and marched tierdly down the hallway, past Stone-tree, and out into the cold snow. she would bury them so that she would never have to look at them again. She continued to walk until she was satisfied with the distance. She dug at the cold snow until she could no longer feel her hands, and kicked the cruel chains into the hole. She begn pushing snow over it, when she felt tiney freezing spots dot her back. She turned her face to the sky as more and more specks of white gently touched her face. It had began snowing again. Grimm didnt mind the cold much anymore, it was a reminder she wasnt as alone as she once was. Sure she was hundreds of miles from them, but she knew, Jack would be waiting on the day he saw her again, and maybe Toothiana, North and Sandy as well. she didnt think Bunnymund liked her very much, and doubted he missed her, but if she ever saw him again she would still be very happy. She smiled at the snow cascading around her. She would see them all again one day. She wouldnt have to keep living in the shadows

She would have loved just to sit there and remenice until the sun rose again, but a shark yell tore through the air, causing her to jump. She listened intently through the winter wind, and heard it again. Her eyes widened as she reconized it. " Pitch" she whispered.