Hey guys! As promised, here's another chapter up and running! ^_^
I do not own ROTG, just my OC
"It appears the rumors are true," the voice said. Though his back was turned to Pitch Black, he was more than aware of the presence of the King of Nightmares. "You have become soft, weak."
Pitch lazily walked along the perimeter of his old friend's establishment with his head held high and his hands clasped gently behind his back. "Really? Funny that you manage to hear such rumors, especially considering I am the only other spirit on this planet who still gives you the time of day anymore, no? And just how, precisely, have I grown weak as these rumors say?"
"As small a population as it may be, this region still has humans on it," the spirit reminded Pitch. "And the presence of humans will always mean spirits shall roam here. Even through the echoes of their whispers, word travels fast here."
He approached Pitch Black, cloak still over his head despite the harsh winds picking up. One thing he never understood about the Nightmare King was how he seemed completely impermeable to the weather, regardless of his history with Mother Nature. The spirit continued, "You used to take entire countries by storm with fear, all within a matter of hours! Now look at you! On a good week you might spread fear across a few cities and then simply vanish. It's because of that young spirit, isn't it?
"You spend a few weeks prancing about, courting some seasonal spirit, and you don't have it in you to spread fear anymore. This isn't because of your recent defeat against the Guardians, either. You don't just choose to limit spreading fear, you physically can't spread any more than what you already do."
Pitch casually picked up a small stone, roughly the palm of his hand, and held it out to his friend to see. "Interesting story of yours, really. I give you points for some of the creativity, too. Although isn't it funny how life works out? Here I come in the miniscule few hours you have left of your freedom before you're sucked back into your prison, searching for you in regard to your prior offer of an alliance, and how do you repay me? You question both my strength and will. You see, in the short time since my last defeat against the Guardians, my powers have more than doubled."
He closed his fingers around the stone, creating a fist. With a simple squeeze, the stone in his hand crumbled into nothing more than dust, which the Nightmare King let drop by the feet of the old spirit. "Meanwhile, your only exposure to the outside world in the past several millennia are a scant few hours every decade or so—and limited to the perimeter of this pathetic, disintegrating rock—and there's nothing you can do about it. How long has it been since Mother Nature banished you to this wretched prison? Tell me again which one of us is weak."
The spirit flung himself toward Pitch in rage but was pushed back against the stone wall by a shadow. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but your eyes don't! Look in a mirror and tell me if you see the silver rage of a true Nightmare King!"
Pitch Black did not turn to face his friend/challenger. Rather, he summoned a handful of his nightmares who stood dutifully in front of his master. "Do what you want," he ordered, "but don't kill him. And when he has begged for death, do not cease. Then—and only then—when he has broken, will you be dismissed to return home."
The nightmares charged the trapped spirit, helpless in their ruthlessness. In the midst of his screams, Pitch whispered, "Good bye, Lynx."