Note: Hey guys, hope you all doing alright with covid-19. I finally have some time to write now (ironically while the world is in peril) so hopefully, I can make some progress and submit bulk chapters. Stay safe/ Ca va bien aller.
Also certain changes to the story: North's two pair of swords are now sabre.
Chapter 24
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence
-William Shakespeare, Macbeth
Meanwhile, back on the ship, Bunnymund frantically marched back and forth while North continued to examine strange ruins written on the deck edge of the ship with his monocles. Bunnymund pulled his ears in exasperation. "Something's wrong! They are taking too long! They aren't even responding to our communication anymore!"
North grunted in reply.
Bunnymund groaned. "Aren't you worried? Look at Mick and Pick! They getting impatient! I swear I saw Mick approach the wheel before I stopped him with a glare! We have to do something!"
North finally glanced up at Bunnymund in amusement. "Dear friend, was there a time where Tooth has given up?
"No." Bunnymund looked confused. "Heck, she's stubborn as a bull."
"Or does Sandy seemed to be the type to abandon his friend?"
"No! Of course not."
"What about Jack who has during our darkest time, failed to ever surprise you with his neverending twists?"
"Ugh. Come on North. What are you trying to say?
"I'm saying, you should believe in them, just as the kids believe in us. Just believe." North said simply. Then he went back to studying the ancient magical rune as Bunnymund began to fume in the corner with his arms crossed. North thought the magical rune was strange. He could have sworn he saw them somewhere, a long time ago, during his young childhood. But his memories blurred no matter how many times he tried to bring it back into the surface. There was a person ever so important to him-someone who showed him the wonders of the invention and learning novelle things. Someone who was a father to him.
But he could not remember. Any time he tried to recall such a man, all he had was headaches.
Strange enough, he had not realized there were gaps amongst his own past until Pitch came unconsciously into his workshop. There were too many mysteries surrounding Pitch, the request of the Father Time and the direction the old friend has pointed for them. The Mother Goose or Katherine was like a sister to him. It has been a while since he last talked to her face to face. He has become busy with the role of Guardian and also managing his workshop and Christmas all year round. Yet, he thought, she was involved in this somehow. After all, she was the Guardian of stories and that could only mean one thing: she has altered stories to her likings which have involved Pitch and the Guardians.
North has tried to ponder what could cause her to alter stories when Katherine was an anthropologist who truly respects history to record historical events with deadly accuracy. She knew the importance of keeping records of battles in the past and of the future without biases. He could only imagine the reason why she has altered the stories to her liking. It was due to something very grave.
North's eyebrow creased in worry and wondered why the man on the moon led them down to this path. However, his worry was cut short by sudden static that filled the air. Mick and Pick sighed in relief as if they didn't know they were holding their own breath. Happily, Bunnymund sprinted to the radio where the light has turned green and picked up the headphone. Then, his expression quickly turned sour, then to serious concern.
"What the hell were you doing while we were in the dungeon?" Jack fussed. Sandy looked at Pitch for the answer and Tooth stared at Pitch with slight sadness as she felt hopeless in their next plan- whatever that was.
"I was talking to Molten." Pitch started running up the stairs and to the endless halls and he slowly recollected the conversation.
Pitch stood as the dark olive door closed behind him. Inside the room, rows of waxed candles lit up the room amongst the shelves filled with macabre of animal bones, jars of unidentified body parts, strange artifacts such as African masks and voodoo doll decorated the room. In the middle sat a large wooden desk and a red teared up an armchair. Behind the armchair, a navy and violet coloured window stretched out like a spiderweb.
"You have quite a large collection," Pitch said dryly.
"Thanks for noticing. They do make such nice decor. It's amazing what humans horde in their little tiny house! I thought it was something they might not miss." Molten chuckled.
Pitch took a note to find out who had a collection of unidentified body parts. He thought it was too much of overkill because it screamed for attention in desperation.
"So, why did you have to go and kidnap the adults? A bit noticeable, don't you think?" Pitch asked as he raised the strange animal skull by the candlelight in odd admiration. "It would have made the disappearance of children a lot easier to handle if you didn't go about kidnapping adults in daylight."
Molten stared at Pitch straight in the eye. Pitch stared back without flinching. Sighing, Molten tilted the armchair backward.
"Ok, I know that wasn't a good idea, but I had to." Molten shrugged dismissively.
"You had to?" Pitch raised his eyebrows and scowled as if he was addressing a reckless teenager.
"Ok! I wanted to. I was just curious about what humans were like! I also needed something to imitate and I thought humans were good subjects to imitate which I might add, it was only possible by absorbing their experience and their knowledge they had." Molten huffed. "So, I had to kidnap them!"
Pitch settled the skull back onto the shelf. "I see. And the children?"
Molten waved his hand disdainfully. "They were just collateral of course. They don't have much in their brain." Molten waved his hand disdainfully. Suddenly, Molten narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "But why would that matter to you? They are humans. You don't care about humans."
"What I care about is being indiscreet," Pitch snarled. "Look what 'indiscretion' led to your doorsteps."
Molten clasped his hands together. "That was all within the plan! Although, you coming along with them wasn't..." he trailed off.
Pitch avoided Molten's searching glance. "It wasn't my plan either to come here with them." Abruptly on cue, Pitch slipped and grabbed onto the shelf as he staggered forward. Lurching, he felt the tickling clock in his chest tick faster. Then, he bent forward and coughed violently. Gagging and heaving, the black liquid dripped down in chunks.
"Ah," Molten sighed in satisfaction in watching someone else in pain. "I thought so."
"What?"
"You are breaking down."
Pitch hacked. "Isn't that obvious?"
Molten walked over to Pitch's side and dropped a white handkerchief on top of the black liquid. The white handkerchief blackened. With his other hand, he grabbed Pitch's chin and tilted Pitch's head gently upward until he gazed Pitch crying black tears. Slowly, he wiped them away innocently.
"I can do it for myself." Pitch grabbed the handkerchief from Molten's hand viciously and then wiped away the rest of the remnants of black liquid. Then, he dropped the dirty handkerchief onto the ground. He watched it fall slowly, innocently, until it was submerged in black.
Drowning in black, wouldn't that be a lovely way to go?
Nightmare King, the black has always suited you.
Come, come, come
Drown in black.
Pitch clutched his head and hissed.
Molten chuckled as he leaned against the wooden desk. "Are they still bothering you? The elders always were egging you on."
"Nothing I can't handle," Pitch grunted.
"Really? Well, I guess we will see."
Molten pondered for a while."So that's why you are with them. You were hoping they knew how to fix you somehow."
"Yes. But instead, they put me in confinement." Pitch grunted.
"Ha! Of course, they would. That sounds exactly like what they would do. What a boring old bunch." Molten smiled mischievously and then murmured.
"What's that?"
"I said, they don't realize how important you are. You should be revered! Worshiped! Just like the good ole time."
Pitch remained silent. The shadow of the candles shook even though there was no movement of air in the room.
Molten checked his watch that magically formed from his own skin. "Well looked at the time! I better get the supper ready for my pet. And for you, you take any empty room in the basement. You should feel right at home."
Then, with a ruthless smile, Molten stepped out of the room, leaving Pitch behind alone amongst piles of bones and smokes. Pitch also looked around, then left.
The whispered wisp of breath carried an echo that drifted over the smokes over the candlelight out to the spiderweb kaleidoscopic window. With keen animal ears, one could hear the message in secret glee.
"They played it safe after all."
"That's why it took you so long to get us out? Just to talk with Molten? You wasted our precious time! Mick and Pick must be trying to do everything to leave right now without us." Jack exclaimed in disbelief and frustration as he quickly followed behind Pitch.
"I was collecting valuable information." Pitch hissed. Then, Pitch tsked in disappointment and stared dead into Jack's eyes. "You never been in War, have you?"
Jack frowned. "Of course not."
Pitch's eye shined with the primeval glow. "Information wins the war. And believe me, I lived through all wars"
Jack swallowed his saliva. Tooth tsked at the boys bickering and rushed to his Pitch's side."Ok, so what's the plan?"
Pitch cleared his throat. "I learned that he took adults for their memories and experience. He sucks them dry while keeping them asleep forever. That takes enormous amounts of energy and lethargy must settle afterward. I'm sure the catalyst to do so is through the window in his green room. While he sleeps, we strike a surprise attack. I will strike first and then you all must follow."
Sandy created forms of Dream Pirates and a sword that just went through them harmlessly.
Pitch smiled dangerously. "You got a good point, Sandman. I guess you aren't just made out of the sand after all" Then from his cloak, he brought out a small mason jar with clear water. "Luckily enough, I found a jar that contained moonlight in Molten's strange collection. He must have picked it up from somewhere. He brought his own demise right to himself!" He cackled. "Now, with the weapon at our disposal and with you all out of jail, puzzle pieces have fallen into places."
"Alright. When would he sleep?" Jack asked.
Pitch raised his eyebrows. "Right now. Why do you think I got you all out at this time?"
