Chapter 36: Two Birds, One Stone

Jack cried out as the Night Mare slammed into him full force. He flew backwards, slamming into a gold wall with a grunt. His nerves were on fire, and he felt bruises forming on places he didn't know he had.
The Night Mare snorted at the sight of him, and that was enough to fuel the sprite's anger. He extracted himself from the wall, meeting the creature's eyes viciously, "Don't know how you guys got in, but I know how you're getting out!" With a cry, he waved his staff. Brilliant white bolts shot through the air and pierced the Night Mare. Black sand splattered across the walls and floor, glittering like dark diamonds.

Jack grinned. He'd only just arrived with Sandy and he'd already taken out one! Of course, the Sandman's palace was still oozing with Fearlings, but it felt good to burn one like an ant under a magnifying glass.

Placing the staff on his shoulders, the guardian of fun prepared to eliminate some more...when the Nightmare Sand began to move.
Jack froze, his eyes wide.

The sand surged like an obsidian river, glittering in the golden sunlight. It separated into two masses; then, they took on the shapes of two more Night Mares, these ones having two heads.
Jack was so shocked he almost stumbled. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart was pounding with panic.

The two-headed Night Mares stared at him for a moment. Then, with blood-chilling roars, they charged towards him.

Jack screamed and hurtled out of the room, slamming the door behind him. When the door buckled, he backed away, hugging his staff as though it were a blanket.

"What the heck...?" He could hardly believe what he'd just witnessed. He'd fought Night Mares before. They were supposed to die when he hit them, not come back to life! Furthermore, they shouldn't have been able to become even more frightening. Jack had never felt so confused in his 317 years.

He'd been so lost in thought, he hadn't noticed the inky tentacles curling around his ankles.

"Wah!" Jack fell on his chest with a solid thud, the air knocked right out of him. His staff clattered on the floor right next to him. He barely had time to gasp for breath; the cackling creature effortlessly dragged him across the gold floors. Jack yelped and clawed for his staff, but the distance between them was rapidly growing. He tried to hold on to something - anything - that would help him.
"Lemme go!" He shouted.

"Hi-yaah!"

A second later, a high-pitched scream echoed through Sandman's palace. Black sand coated the winter sprite. Jack winced, disgust seeping in his system, "What the hell?!"

"You're welcome!"

Jack froze, then looked up. Tooth stood before him, a triumphant grin on her tan face. She was wearing bracelets with curved blades sticking out of them. Her bright feathers were stained with Nightmare Sand, but she couldn't care less.

Jack had never been so happy to see the queen of fairies. "Tooth!"

Tooth giggled, her cheeks reddening, "Hey, Jack. Are we too late to join the party?"

"We?" Jack echoed, ecstacy and relief bubbling in his heart.

Tooth held a hand out, offering to help him up. Jack accepted it, narrowly avoiding being cut by the blades. The fairy hoisted him up with a grunt. As Jack brushed off his sweatshirt, Tooth gestured to the gold-encrusted window, "Ta-da."

Jack followed her hand, and a huge grin formed on his lips. Down below in Sandman's gardens (flower beds of every kind, statues marking the entrances, and a fountain at the center, all made of Dream Sand), the guardians were fighting the Night Mares.
Bunny kept throwing egg bombs at the flying, demonic horses; North's swords were a silvery blur; Sandman was using his whips to eliminate two or three at a time; Molly was standing in front of the fountain, shooting at anything black.

But something was missing.

He turned to Tooth, his eyes wide with anxiety, "Where's Lucy?"

"Oh, she's fine. Don't worry." Tooth put a hand on her friend's shoulder, "She was up all night making these for me." She held up her wrist, "So I put her to bed."

Jack released all the air in his lungs, placing his hand on his heart, "That's a relief." Tooth smirked knowingly before handing him his beloved shepard's hook, "Come on. We have Night Mares to kill."

And kill they did. The six guardians fought harder than they ever had, but it proved to be more difficult than they had anticipated. While the Night Mares stayed dead at first, they came to life right after they were destroyed. Not only that, but they became even more terrifying and deadly upon resurrecting. One grew long black teeth like a shark's and nearly bit Molly's leg off. Another turned into some awful horse-bat hybrid. Another spat knives.

"What's goin' on 'ere?!" Bunny shouted as he caught his sticky black boomerang, "I thought Pitch was weakinin'!"

"He should be!" Molly shouted as she ducked, barely avoiding a flying black knife. "He's only got a few believers now! Even I have more than him!"

"Then what's with the Rocky Horror Show?" Jack demanded as he sliced a Night Mare's head off.

"I don't know!" Molly replied in exasperation, "He'd need lots of sand to make these-" She trailed off, her stormy-gray eyes widening.
The girl spun around, scanning the area for her mute comrad. "Sandy!" Her shriek immedately won his attention.
"Where do you keep your Dream Sand?"

Everyone looked at her like she'd lost her mind. Even Sandman looked a little floored, but he still pointed to the castle. He mouthed, 'In the basement.'

Molly was racing towards the palace a second later. Jack dropped everything and followed her, his bony legs pumping.

The girl shot at two other Night Mares on the way there. Jack ducked to avoid the crumbling sand. Molly slid down the banister and landed smoothly on her feet. When she saw the doorway, her jaw dropped.

The large gold-and-copper door had been ripped from its hinges, and the walls were coated in deep scratches, like some great beast had dragged its claws against them. The chamber where the Dream Sand was kept was filled with hissing noises, as well as roars and neighs.

Molly and Jack looked at each other, a shared fear passing between them.

"The sand..." Jack could hardly say it, "The Night Mares are infecting it."

Molly reloaded her pistols with trembling hands, "I hope they had a good time, 'cuz I'm not letting them leave this place alive."
Jack grabbed her wrist, catching her off guard. He looked right into her eyes, his own gleaming with courage.

"We'll take 'em down." He vowed, "Together."

Molly looked hesitant, but after a minute, she gave him a small nod, "Together."

Then, they rushed inside. Needless to say, they were scared stiff at the view awaiting them.

The chamber, which had once been filled with glittering gold sand and the occasional delightful fantasy, was now a nest of monsters. Squeaking bats soared through the air like stormclouds, and the floor had become an ocean of Nightmare Sand. The teens could see all kinds of horrid creatures appearing, then disappearing in the dark waters. Several of them slithered out of the waves and exited the chamber, ready to attack the guardians outside.

In the midst of it all, on a little island, was a familiar figure. It had a worn-out, black hooded cloak and a suit of gray scales. Its hands were hidden with leather gloves with claws at the ends. A large serpent's skull covered its face. It was waving and motioning with its hands, like an insane maestro commanding a hellish orchestra.

Molly's gasp brought the person's attention to the two teens. It only took a second for Jack to recognize the figure.

"You're that person from the swamp." He held onto his staff with a white-knuckled grip, "The one who shocked the kids."

The figure smirked, "Guilty."

Jack had to wince at the person's voice. It was neither male or female, not deep or high. It was, according to him, the voice of the Devil.

"What do you want?" Molly raised her gun, aiming for the person's heart.

The figure threw its head back, its cackles bouncing off the walls. The noise rubbed like sandpaper against the teens' eardrums.

"What a silly question." The figure answered, "I don't want anything big; just my father. I want us to be a real family, and an immortal one, too. But if we're going to be together forever, you're going to have to step down."

Jack frowned, "Pitch? I thought he wanted Lucy."

The figure sneered, "That foolish, sweet-toothed woman? Ha! She's so puny and weak! Though I'll admit we need her - I need her - for our plans. In fact, if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here right now."

"What do you mean by that?" Jack growled, raising his staff. The end of it accumulated with supressed, wintry energy.

The figure scoffed, "Didn't Father tell you? You can't kill fear, Jack."

"I can try!" Jack zapped at the person, a flash of bright frost illuminating the gloom. The figure simply vanished in a puff of black smoke.

The teens looked around desperately, trying to spot the figure. They didn't think to look behind them.

The person grabbed Molly by the long braid, then wrapped an arm around her throat. Molly shouted and cursed, trying to fight the person off, but it was useless. She aimed the pistol at the person's face, but the figure leaned forward and shattered the gun with its teeth.

"Jack!" Molly screamed, her voice dripping with terror.

The winter spirit took the hint and fired another energy bolt. The figure held Molly in front of it; the bolt hit the girl, who screamed in pain. Jack gasped, lowering his staff. The figure chortled, "Good boy, good boy." Still using Molly as a shield, the person reached the door.

"Oh, and if you were wondering," The figure said, as if just remembering something, "I'm the Sweet Serpent. Remember that name; you'll be trembling to it very soon."
With that, the person tossed Molly to the floor and whistled sharply. The Nightmare creatures got the signal and poured out of the doorway. The guardians could only watch in horror as the storm of beasts sailed into the sky, spreading out to fill humans' hearts with horror.

Back in the basement, Jack knelt and placed Molly's head on his lap. Concern for his friend hummed through his veins as he checked her temperature, then her pulse. "A-are you okay?" He asked, trying not to sound as frightened as he felt.
Molly's heart was beating so fast from the shock of it all, she was sure Jack could hear it. She swallowed hard, trying to get the feel back in her limbs, "I can't feel my legs. Or arms."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Jack's pale cheeks were crimson, "I only wanted to immobilize that guy, so we could interrogate him. It'll wear off."

Molly sighed and held a hand over her eyes, "How bad is it?"

Jack looked around. While there was still enough Dream Sand to make sure there would be sweet dreams to come, it was impossible not to tell the difference in quantity. Jack would guess three-fifths of it was gone. Obviously, Pitch wasn't out to annihilating good dreams; he'd simply needed more sand to make those...those monstrosities. The more fear spread, the stronger he'd become, and the sand in his possession simply hadn't been enough. He was out for power all over again, after eight years of submission.
But why?! For revenge? If that were the case, why attack now? Had he needed time to replentish his numbers? And how could he be doing this? He was weak by now, wasn't he?

He winced, "Bad."

Molly groaned, "Who was that guy?"

"The Sweet Serpent." Jack invoulentarily tightened his grip on her, "Pitch's apprentice. The one who stabbed you, and the one who turned Halloween into a nightmare a few years ago."

"He's helping Pitch." Molly murmured, "Of course."

"We'll stop them, M." Jack tried to sound encouraging, "We will."

Little did they know that one Fearling had remained. It was in the form of a spider no bigger than a thimble, but it still registered the entire conversation.

Pitch witnessed the entire confab through the eyes of his spider. He chuckled as he admired his Night Mares' work; while he was still stuck in the wheelchair, the cracks in his skin were slowly closing. Not only that, but with a diversion like this, they wouldn't return to the Pole in time. He was hitting two birds with one rock. With the Dream Sand they'd stolen, his Night Mares would spread enough fear to snuff out a good number of lights.

Now, the guardians would have a taste of their own medicine. They'd know how it felt to be cast in the shadows, to be forgotten. He didn't want them to disappear, oh no. He merely wanted to teach them a lesson, just like last time.

But this time, he had help.

Speak of the Devil. The figure stepped forward and knelt down before Pitch, "Father, we managed to make a total of 50 kids stop believing in America alone. If we continue like this, half of your health will be restored."

"Good." Pitch nodded, "Be sure to take your time; too much fear all at once causes chaos, both for humans and for us."

"Yes, sir." The Sweet Serpent bowed her head before transforming into a black snake, slithering off into the Realm.

Pitch smirked, "What an intriguing Fearling. And my daughter's first, no less!" He held his head up like a proud father, "She will be of good use for the time being. It's nice to know my daughter's memories weren't lost. Just...misplaced. Speaking of which..." He waved his hand, and black sand escaped his robes. It shifted and frothed before showing him a dark bedroom. A familiar girl was lying on her side, hugging her pillow.

"Melinda, my angel. Can you hear me, by any chance?" Pitch reached out and stroked the image, trying to remember how it felt to stroke that face, "Won't you come home to your father before another kind of angel takes him?" He leaned forward, almost whispering into the girl's ear, "The day has died, my dear."

The girl's visible eye slowly opened.

It was completely golden.