Instantly panic siezed him and he swiftly grabbed his sword, clutching it tight like a lifeline. Panic turned to anger as he watched the Nightmare King appear, reincarnated from the spewing sand on the floor.

"Pitch Black," he spat with disgust, eyeing the evil figure infront of him, slowly making his way to the Globe. North followed suit, not letting his opponent get the better of him. "You have no right here. Leave before I make you." Pitch just tutted and shook his head slightly in reply.

"Now now, that's no way to treat a guest."

Anger ravaged through North's body like he had never felt before. Pitch was not a guest. Consequently, the Cossack felt no guilt at brandishing his curved sword and thrusting it towards Pitch's neck. It did not take the Nightmare King by surprise though, he had been expecting some hostility. His glowing amber eyes bored into North's brain, searching for his fears. He was scared for the boy.

Without a sound, Pitch smirked and fell back, the shadows embracing and engulfing him. A deep, corrupted cackle reverberated through the large room, shaking North to his very core.

"No matter how much I would love to fight you right now Nicholas, I did not come here for you. I assume you found out little friend in the Antarctic, yes? How is he doing? I heard that he's been... out of it for a while." He laughed and again North felt the urge to jump forward and slash his throat with his blade. He did not do so, just stood his ground and glared defiantly at Pitch, not giving him the satisfaction of revealing any emotions.

"Leave the boy alone Pitch, you have nothing against him. Your battle is with us."

"You know nothing old man. Jack may not know it but I have always been with him. Hiding in the shadows, watching him, following him. Feeding off his precious fear. Such delightful fear - he has so many things to be afraid of. Should I tell you some of his fears?" He sneered, not waiting for a response.

"He fears he'll never be seen, never be believed in, never have family or friends to call his own. He fears that no matter what he does and no matter where he goes he will only cause destruction. He fears the death that his winters cause and he fears his own death. Or more precisely, lack of it. He fears that he will never die and will be forced to live an eternal life of solitude. He has many past traumas, but I shan't go into detail about them now, I'm sure you'll find out soon enough anyway,"

What? What did that mean? North had no time to think before the Boogeyman spoke again, his tone menacing and evil. "He has many new fears too - he's afraid of disappointing you Guardians, never getting your approval, never earning your praise. He fears you are just using him and when he is no longer needed you will discard him once more. You see North, he only wants to be wanted." North's heart plunged to his feet and down through the hard wood floors. And here he was, thinking there was nothing Jack was afraid of.

"I know more about him than you ever will Nicholas. You don't deserve him." Pitch sniggered as he once more fell into the comfort of his shadows, plunging the whole room into darkness, including the belief lights on the Globe. North spun, wildly flourishing his blades and slicing silently into the thick, inky air.

Above him, the lights slowly flickered back into existence. Pitch... where is Pitch!? The Guardian of Wonder stumbled around the globe, his eyes steadily adjusting to the blinding lights.

"Pitch you coward where are you?! Get out of the shadows and face me!!"

The ground under North started to tremble and shake violently. He tried to move but his feet wouldn't budge. He looked down to see black sand trapping his feet in place, sliding around his boots like malevolent whips and crawling up his oegs.

"Oh dear, sweet, näive Nick. Haven't you ever heard of a distraction?" Pitch cackled wildly, the black sand beneath the Russian man engulfing him more and more by the second.

No. No no no no.

"JACK!!"

...

Jack tossed and turned in his restless sleep. His mind haunted him, constantly finding ways to taunt him dragging back a nightmare from a few days ago. He'd never had a problem with water before, after all ice was water. But... these dreams, no, nightmares, absolutely terrified him.

He dreamt of drowning in cold, murky waters, with nothing but cold dark wet above and below him. There was no light to be seen, not even a glimpse. The moon was dead and, soon, he would be too.

He thrashed and kicked below the surface, muscles aching and lungs begging for air. His arms flailed effortlessly as he sunk further and further down into the abyss. Something slimy grabbed at his ankle, looping and twisting around his bones. Suddenly, with a painful jerk, the whips tightened, dragging him down into the harsh current. He gasped for air, only to suck in more icy liquid, ironically burning his throat and lungs. Black dots swarmed his vision but he couldn't tell - everywhere he looked there was black. He twisted and turned, trying to escape the slimy ropes but to no avail. His arms reached above him trying to find something, anything that he could grab onto to prevent the inevitable.

His head began to feel heavy and soon his struggling died down for he had no energy. Fear consumed him. Yet he did not fall unconscious, instead he kept falling, sinking, drowning into the cold dark wet.

_

A scream tore from the Winter Spirit's lips as he awoke with a start, falling off the chair onto the hard floor with a thud. Head swimming, he greedily gulped for air, gasping and spluttering. Sucking in the divine oxygen his body craved.

"Oh Jack. Did you have a nightmare?" The question echoed around him, spoken by a sinister, mocking voice. "How sweet. How... pathetic."

The Nightmare King rose triumphantly from the shadows, snatching the weakened spirit's chin and forcing him to look up. Black tendrils crawled from under his cloak binding Jack's wrists and ankles behind his back so tight blood was drawn. The boy struggled under the Boogeyman's grip, but could do nothing. Wincing, he looked up at the shadows glowing eyes, cerulean orbs dilated in fear.

With a greater strength than it looked like he had, Pitch rose, grabbing Jack's neck and dragging the boy up with him so he feet were well off the floor. The Nightmare King squeezed his throat, making the Spirit of Winter choke and, for the second time since he woke up, gasp desperately for air. He struggled uselessly under the Shadow Man's strong grip, bony fingers digging into his pale neck.

Pitch cackled wickedly as he watched the boy begin to lose consciousness. There was so much fear radiating off this one inedequite being.

"Oh Jack, how useless you are. I never imagined it would be this easy. A broken twig and a bit of nightmare sand and you're already too weak to even defend yourself. Pathetic really. I had so much more planned for you." He spat mockingly at Jack, hurling him across the room in one swift motion.

He tumbled to the corner of the room, twisting and turning wildly, smacking the floor with each turn. A large crash erode when he slammed into North's new inventions. He felt them breaking underneath him, sharp points digging into his body. He didn't care though - every part of his body was in too much pain to care. His head throbbed, his heart seared and he still felt like he was being choked.

More sickly black sand creeped out from under Pitch's cloak towards the ever-weakening Jack. It rose, towering over him and the last thing he heard before his world faded to black was a frantic voice calling his name.

-

I'm not sure how long this story will be as I have quite a few ideas I'm just not sure how to add them in yet.

Have a fab morning, afternoon, evening or night :)