Getting into their back-stories now.
OMG I need to vent to you guys cuz ur my only friends
I just agreed to work 9 hours a day 5 days a week in my very physically demanding job! And just before NaNoWriMo too! I'm going to be a zombie until January!
They celebrated Jack's successful first show well into the night, with the absence of Pitch, who had ducked out again to do who-knows-what. Tooth said he was giving nightmares to kids and drinking their fear, but Jack was inclined to think she was joking.
When everyone started to get sleepy, they halted their games and activities and settled down in the living room to talk. Emily curled up against Phil's fluffy side and yawned.
"How did you all get here, anyway?" she asked. "I know about Jack, a little, but I want to know everyone's story! I bet it's a great bedtime story!"
"Well, I'm the newest recruit, besides Jack," North said. "I brought Phil here about forty years ago. I met him in the Himalayas when I was mountain climbing. He rescued me from an avalanche, but we were trapped in a mountain cave together for almost a week before the snow cleared and I was able to hike back down. We became close friends, and I was surprised how civilized he was! He had a kitchen and made food and everything! He could even read and write! Of course, he acquired all his supplies by stealing from local villages. He always wanted to be able to have a job and pay for things himself, so I promised I would find him one.
"I took him to a few places, first as a cook in a little cafe, then to some shows and things like that, but no one was willing to accept that this great big creature was any kind of intelligent. We were thrown out of more than a few places, and everyone refused us lodgings. Mr. Moon found us one day, I guess he'd heard of us, and offered us a position in his Freak Show. Phil was reluctant at first, but I had a feeling in my belly that it was important for us to accept this, so we did, and we made a new family here!"
"That's so sweet!" Emily cooed dreamily.
"Forty years?" Jack asked nervously. "That's a long time . . . stuck on this train for forty years . . ."
"Oh, it's not like that at all, Jack!" Tooth piped up. "We get to travel, and meet new people, and do fun things all the time! There are some towns that welcome us, and invite us to see their attractions and stuff, so we get to go out and mingle with the people! Of course, they think we're all just in costumes, but they don't question it. It's like a magic act, it wouldn't be fun to watch if the magician showed you the tricks he did afterward, would it?"
Jack brightened up at the thought of traveling the country and seeing attractions. Tooth flew out briefly and returned with a photo album, sitting between Jack and Emily to show them pictures of their adventures; standing in front of museum exhibits, riding roller-coasters, eating food captioned "World's Best/Biggest -", among other activities. Tooth's fairies skipped around on the pages, twittering to each other their own memories. There were a couple of people in the photo's Jack didn't recognize.
"Who's that?" Jack asked, pointing to a picture of a girl that had appeared in several photographs. She had long, straight, bluish hair, and one of her eyes was almost white while the other one was black where it should have been white with a dark purple iris and a bright blue gleaming pupil.
"Oh, that's Amethyst. She was in our troupe for almost twenty years. She could levitate objects and could make force fields. We always joked that she was like a super hero." Tooth stroked the picture with a sad smile, which was echoed by her fairies. "She passed away about fifteen years ago. She was a good friend . . . I was sad to see her go." Her voice cracked at the end, and she looked away from the picture.
"What happened?" Emily asked quietly. Jack gave her a scolding look, but Tooth smiled in understanding.
"She got sick. Some illness she was born with, I can't recall the name now. She always said 'when you go, you'll regret the things in life that you didn't do, rather than the things you did'. Living up to her motto, she encouraged us to get the most out of every day, and was always excited to see new things. She died satisfied."
Emily patted Tooth's arm affectionately. "She was a good friend, I'm sure."
Jack's heart ached for his new friend, but something didn't quite add up. "If she died fifteen years ago, and she was with you for twenty years . . . how long have you been here?" he asked softly, trying not to sound insensitive.
"Wanna hear my story?!" she asked excitedly, perking up immediately.
"Yeah!" Emily encouraged.
"Okay! I was born- well, I think I was born, some time in the seventeen-eighties."
"Whoa, are you serious?! How is that possible?" Jack gasped.
"Let me try to explain. It's very hard to remember the earliest years of my life. I wasn't born exactly in the conventional way. How can I explain this? I was more . . . created. Someone in Germany doing genetic experiments created me. I think, according to Mr. Moon, a man was trying to get a human embryo to develop in an egg. A hummingbird's egg, to be exact. His experiments all failed, but with my egg . . . he did something different with it. Mr. Moon says he rescued a fairy, and when you rescue a fairy, you get a wish, so he wished that this particular embryo would take to the egg and live. Of course, as you can see, I'm not quite human. Still, This man was amazed by my beauty. He made a habitat for me to live in, and I stayed in there, learning and growing, for many years, while he tried to replicate the experiment.
"He did a lot of tests on me, I remember, but mostly, I wasn't allowed in the lab. One day, though, he threw out three tiny, failed eggs in frustration. I picked them up, and could sense the little embryos inside, and I wept for their lives. My tears fell on the eggs, and brought them back to life. That's how my girls were born. They're obviously a lot different than me, and I knew the doctor would want to experiment on them. Don't get me wrong, he was a nice man, I wasn't afraid of him or anything, I was just protective of these girls, like they were my own daughters. So I hid them from him. Eventually, he died, and I had never seen the world outside, so we stayed in my habitat until Mr. Moon found us.
We've been with him ever since. Back then, it was just Pitch, Sandy, and the four of us. Eventually, another man joined us, but he was mortal, and he died, too. Then Bunny came along!" She grinned happily at Bunny, who was slouching on the couch, listening to the stories intently.
"What's your story, Bunny?" Emily asked diligently.
"Mine's not all that interesting. I don't know where I came from. The earliest I remember was hiding in a forest in Australia. The town near me had legends and rumors about a giant hare, and several hunting troupes were sent in to capture me. Mr. Moon found me when I was still quite young. I was completely wild, but somehow, he knew I was capable of human intelligence. He took me in and trained me until I became who I am today."
"I remember when you were brought here," Tooth chimed in. "It was 1848, you were the sweetest thing, but so fiesty!"
Bunny barred his teeth at her, but she just giggled at the memory.
"What about you, Sandy?" Emily asked. "Were you first?"
Sandy shook his head, and a picture of Pitch popped up about him.
"You know, I've never heard Pitch's story," Bunny noted. "He never talks about his past. It's suspicious."
"I'm sure it's nothing," Tooth said, though she sounded unsure.
"Let's ask him when he gets back!" Emily said, but her voice was getting scratchy and she kept rubbing her eyes.
"Not tonight, Ems, you need to go to bed."
"Aw, but that's not fair!" she complained.
"We're all going to bed, too, Emily," North told her. "We all need our sleep."
Jack was exhausted when he finally climbed into his bed. He was certain he'd never had so much fun in his life, and he was half expecting to wake up in his bedroom in the morning, this having all been a dream. He curled up under the covers, hearing Tooth's hushed voice saying goodnight to her girls before she clicked her lamp off, leaving the car in total darkness.
=======================BLACKICE=========================
Jack felt like he was floating. Maybe he was floating, he thought, recalling his new-found powers. He felt his staff heavy in his right hand and gave it a squeeze. Looking around, he discovered that he was in the middle of the circus tent. It was empty, save for the VIP box full of stern, grumpy looking men, and Mr. Moon standing a bit behind him.
Where are the others? Jack wondered. And what am I doing here? The show isn't supposed to be until Friday . . .
A pang of fear shot through Jack like a rocket as the VIP people began moving toward him. A private show . . . because I'm new, maybe, Jack thought. He tried his best to compose himself as the people got closer and closer, until a space in the small crowd revealed one figure left behind in the box.
Emily gave him an encouraging smile, but Jack's mind was far from eased. More and more questions began filling his thoughts, until his mind came to a sudden halt when a new figure emerged from the shadows.
Greg, Jack's father, came up behind Emily and rested a hand on her shoulder.
"No . . . NO!" Jack shouted, as Emily turned and began walking away with their tormenter. He tried to go after her, but the VIP people closed in on him. Dozens of hands gripped him all at once, holding him back. Long-nailed fingers dug into his shoulders and hips and arms and head as he struggled for freedom, crying out for help. The room darkened and, one by one, the hands left him.
As the last hands released their grip, a new panic overwhelmed Jack.
"No, no! Don't leave me! Please! I can't do this by myself! I need help! I need someone to watch out for me!"
He twisted around frantically, trying to locate any source of light, any at all. He could feel nothing, not even the ground beneath his feet, he could hear nothing but his own panicked breathing and his heartbeat throbbing inside his head, and he could see nothing, not even the shape of his hand in front of his face.
He longed for something, anything to pull him from this purgatory. He would have gladly gone crawling back to Greg's house, as long as there was light and warmth and someone to acknowledge he was there, that he was, in fact, alive.
Suddenly, he was surrounded by water so cold that his skin didn't register temperature, only pain. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to save them from the frigid water. He held the little breath he had, but his lungs already burned. He flailed his arms and legs, swimming with all his might up, up, up, as the cold sank into his skin, deeper and deeper until it reached his muscles, and they froze solid, leaving him helpless.
Reality faded in slowly. Jack realized that what had woken him up was the burning in his lungs as he held his breath from his dream. He took a deep calming breath and waited out the sleep paralysis, allowing tears to stream out of his eyes.
By the time it faded and he could move again, he registered a soft glow moving under his bunk. Silently, Jack peeked over the side of the bed to look under him.
Sandy, responsible for emitting the small glow, was gently shaking Pitch's shoulder. Pitch frowned and gritted his teeth in his sleep, jerking away from Sandy, but Sandy was persistent.
When Pitch finally woke up, he let out a soft, exhausted groan. "What is it, Sandman?"
Jack assumed Sandy was showing him pictures above his head, but Jack had retreated back into his bed so he wouldn't be seen.
" . . . I see. I apologize. Thank you for waking me." Pitch said the words so soft that Jack barely heard them, but he burned with curiosity. Pushing a button on his phone under the blanket, Jack realized that it was almost four in the morning. He was about to go back to sleep when he also noticed that he had 52 text messages and 23 missed calls.
Jack held his breath again, a new anxiety developing in the pit of his stomach. He knew he would have to deal with this, sooner rather than later, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it in the middle of the night. He tried to forget about it, but Jack didn't sleep the rest of the night.
=======================BLACKICE===========================
Not having to wake up at 4 am to set up the circus meant the crew could sleep in. Unfortunately for Jack, who could not forget his dream and the looming messages in his phone, this meant fidgeting anxiously in bed, his eyes burning with exhaustion and his mind whirring with unpleasant thoughts, as he watched the car become lighter and lighter as the sun came up.
Tooth had told him that she typically woke up first, at around seven, but seven came and went, as the fairy was too tired from staying up all night partying, and dealing with her own nightmares of being back in the habitat and trying to hide her girls from the scientist.
Jack gave in and decided to look through the texts, at least. He opened his inbox and scrolled to the top of the long list of new texts. They started out with a lot of 'where are you?'s, merging into threats that got more and more creative, then, surprisingly, there were twenty or so texts involving emotional apologies, promises to change, and begging for him to come back.
Jack was stunned by this development. He had never apologized before, and Jack was starting to consider going back, but those texts eventually ended and the threats returned, with more enthusiasm, making the decision much easier for Jack.
The last three texts were even more shocking than the apologetic ones. They were surprisingly stoic, as though he was sober for the first time in his life, and they reminded him greatly of his mother.
What are you going to do about school?
I've called the police and reported you missing. They're launching an investigation and have likely notified your schools.
The police would like you to call so we can all talk.
Far from easing his worries, Jack felt like he was about to throw up as he realized the police were looking for them. Of course, he knew this would happen, and he knew it would have to be dealt with, but now was the time for dealing with it, and he didn't know what to do.
He looked across the car at Tooth's sleeping form, and wondered if his friends would want to help him, or if they'd be angry at him for having the police after them. After all, they would all probably get in trouble if he was caught.
But he couldn't hide from the police for the rest of his life. He planned on getting custody of Emily so they could live their lives without worries, and he was determined to do so. He crawled over his bed to the desk and opened the drawer where he had put the documents he needed. He had his and his sister's birth certificates, social security cards, immunization records, and other important papers, but he pulled out a thick file of papers he had looked up about adopting his sister.
Basically, he was supposed to move out of their father's house, get his own home that could accommodate a child, hold a stable job so he could support her, and then take their father to court and prove that he was an unfit parent and that Jack could do a better job.
Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. If he believed that Emily's life was in danger, he could have lawfully taken her from the home to the police station, but this . . . this was just kidnapping.
Jack was beginning to lose hope that he would be able to get out of this. At the very least, he hoped Emily would be adopted out into a good family, but as for Jack . . . he would likely be facing jail time. He would probably lose the new life and new family he had acquired.
The sound of Tooth yawning and stretching awake startled him, and he stuffed the papers back into his bag and pretended to be asleep, not ready to talk about this just yet.
"Girls," Tooth whispered into the bird cage. "It's time to wake up!"
Jack heard the little fairies beginning to flit around the cage, and the comforting sounds lulled him back to a shallow sleep.
He only slept for a few hours, waking up again at 10. The only one left sleeping was Bunny, and Jack went to the living car to join the others. As usual, Pitch was absent.
"Jack, come on!" Emily said impatiently on the couch.
"What's going on?" he asked, sitting beside her.
"Sandy's going to tell us his story now!"
Sandy nodded, getting into position in front of the TV. He waited a few moments for Tooth to drag Bunny out of bed. Then he started making pictures above his head that Jack couldn't understand.
"Okay, he wants me to translate for him," Tooth said. "Before he starts, he wants us to promise we won't tell Mr. Moon or Pitch what he's telling us."
"What? Why?" Jack asked.
Sandy gave everyone a stern look and held up a pinky. He then went around to each individual person until everyone had pinky promised.
He went to Jack last, but Jack was reluctant to promise. He didn't think keeping things from Pitch would help Pitch trust him more. Plus, he'd seen enough movies to know keeping secrets was a bad idea.
He looked around at the others' urging looks, and Sandy's insistent expression, before also pinky promising.
Satisfied, Sandy went back to the front and Tooth resumed translating for them.
"He says in order to understand how he got here, you have to know Pitch's story, and Mr. Moon's. He doesn't know where they came from, but he and Pitch have existed since humans have."
Sandy expanded the images so instead of being over his head, they covered the surface of the coffee table. Figures of him and Pitch appeared, and others appeared around them, but Pitch and Sandy grew to be the biggest.
"There were other beings like them," Tooth continued, "but Sandy and Pitch were the most powerful." The figures of Pitch and Sandy separated to opposite sides of the table, and the smaller beings separated accordingly. Then, a clock appeared over the middle of the table, the hands spinning fast, and the figures slowly began to shrink and dwindle away until only smaller versions of Pitch and Sandy remained. "Pitch and Sandy were on opposing sides, and the lesser beings were separated as well. Over time, these entities lost their power until they all disappeared, leaving only Pitch and Sandy."
The figures were then shown fighting each other, but smaller copies of them were shown shaking hands. "So, they fought each other, but then became friends?" Tooth guessed, unsure of this development.
Sandy shook his head, changing the picture so it showed a scale, with Pitch on one side and Sandy on the other. Whenever the scale tipped in favor of one, the other fought to keep the balance.
"They were trying to keep balance between them?" Tooth tried again. "So, they fought, but they . . . respected each other?"
Sandy nodded and gave her a thumbs up. The scene changed and was replaced by Mr. Moon and his brother, with the year 1489 in gold letters above them. Ringmaster Solveig appeared to be standing in front of an adoring crowd, while Mr. Moon stood in his shadow, glaring jealously at him. "In 1489, Ringmaster Solveig was some kind of idol, and Mr. Moon envied his fame."
Mr. Moon was then shown by himself, kneeling in front of a circle with candles and symbols around it.
Then something strange happened. The sand images . . . they went fuzzy for a second, so Jack could see that Mr. Moon was doing something, but he couldn't tell what it was. From the center of the circle, Pitch emerged, though before he could draw up to his full height, he was stopped by a heavy chain around his neck, the other end of which was anchored to the floor. He struggled against the chain furiously before he confronted his captor, who stood watching smugly. The figure presented Pitch's figure with a scroll of paper and a feather pen, and Pitch seemed to refuse at first, but after thinking about it, he signed the scroll.
All the while, Tooth was still narrating, though it was hardly necessary any more. "Mr. Moon somehow summoned Pitch in some kind of ritual, and talked him into signing a contract."
The scene changed to show Mr. Moon in front of a large crowd standing next to what looked like a large cage covered by a cloth. Mr. Moon yanked the cloth down to reveal monster Pitch, growling and snarling at the crowd.
Tooth didn't bother explaining this one, or the last scene, which showed Pitch alone in the cage, looking forlorn, as another clock showed the passing of time, until a figure of Sandy appeared and approached him. The mini figure of Sandy looked to be beckoning Pitch out, but Pitch shook his head and held up the chain that was still around his neck.
A thought bubble appeared above Sandy's head, with an image of the balance from before. Then Mr. Moon came up and offered the contract to Sandy for him to sign.
The scene disappeared before it showed whether or not he signed it, and Sandy got Tooth's attention to translate more of the pictures above his head.
"I think he's saying that he didn't sign the same contract as Pitch," Tooth translated. "He signed one like ours, it's just a regular job contract, and Pitch's is different. I guess it's some kind of supernatural thing."
Sandy gave her another thumbs up, and Emily started gushing about how cool the story was, but something was still bothering Jack. As everyone started getting ready for lunch (or in Jack's case, breakfast) Jack waited for an opportunity to talk to Sandy.
"Sandy," he said as they fell behind the group. Sandy looked up at him innocently with a ? appearing over his head. " . . . What did Mr. Moon to do summon Pitch?"
Sandy's expression darkened, and he patted Jack on the arm sympathetically, shaking his head, before floating off after the others.
Jack frowned suspiciously. More and more he was starting to think Mr. Moon wasn't someone who could be trusted. He looked at his sister with concern, not willing to believe that he had taken her from one hell into another, but looking around at the others in the car, he was sure he could trust them, and they would take care of each other.
The concerns were pushed aside as they continued their day, and Jack's excitement grew as the show approached. He once again found himself bouncing around the backstage area that evening, to the amusement of his friends.
Tooth gasped as she peeked through the curtains. "Look! It's packed!"
Bunny, North, Sandy, and Jack crowded around her, looking through the tiny space in the curtains. There were a lot more people today, mostly children. Jack scanned the crowded VIP box for Emily, but had to move out of the way as the clowns finished their act and came back through the curtains.
"I wonder why there's so many?" Tooth wondered out loud.
"It doesn't look like theirs any more than when I came here with Emily," Jack commented.
"That was a Saturday ," Bunny reminded him. "Today is a school day, and they have school in the morning. We probably won't have as many people the rest of the week."
Jack thought nothing of it as he got in line behind Tooth. Just like last night, he skated out and spun into place.
"That's him!" A voice cheered from the VIP box. "That's Jack Frost!"
Jack looked ahead and identified the voice as the little boy from last night, who's sister he had thrown a snowball at. Unsurprisingly, the sister was nowhere to be found. Jack smiled and waved at the boy, who screamed excitedly and pointed at Jack to show his friends.
Apparently, he had spread the word about Jack. He saw a few of the other kids from last night, and about a hundred of their friends. Emily, he finally found, was in the front corner of the VIP box, cheering for Jack just as loud as the others.
Jack beamed and waved back at them, laughing excitedly. He bowed and exited the stage still waving.
"Wow, I your a huge hit!" Tooth said excitedly.
"I wonder why?" Pitch muttered sarcastically as he walked by. Jack shot him a suspicious smile.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. Pitch leaned in close to his ear and whispered.
"Don't let Mr. Moon know to talked to the children afterward. And be careful who you reveal your powers to."
Jack looked with innocent concern as Pitch exited the tent. He decided to be more careful, but snuck out and around to meet the exiting patrons anyway.
As if they were expecting him, a huge group of children swarmed around him as he approached.
"Jack, Jack!" the boy from yesterday shouted to get his attention. "I told everyone at school about you!"
"So did I!" a girl from yesterday said. "My friends didn't believe me, so I brought them to see for themselves!"
One of the said skeptics stepped up. "Do you really have ice magic?"
"Well, magic is a strong word," Jack answered ambiguously.
"You mean it's a trick?" the boy said as his face fell.
"No, I didn't say that!" Jack assured him. He crouched down to their level and they all leaned in as he spoke quieter. "But adults don't believe in magic, so I have to be discreet!"
"Maybe if you showed them your magic, they would believe!" a small girl suggested.
"Grown ups are pretty stubborn," Jack told her. "Sometimes, even if you show them magic, they don't believe in it."
"Yeah," another girl agreed, "adults are dumb."
Jack laughed loudly in agreement.
"Show us another trick!" a boy from yesterday demanded, followed by a chorus of agreement.
Jack smiled warily, but couldn't resist the hopeful wide-eyed children staring up at him. "Okay, just a small one," he conceded, "but you gotta keep it quiet."
They children cheered in hushed tones and followed him around the tent to the side, so neither the patrons nor the performers could see them. The big top had thick red and white stripes that were two feet across and ran vertically about fifteen feet up, with the roof of the tent hanging over the edges. Jack touched his staff to the side of the tent, and tendrils of frost spread from it to cover four of the stripes. The frost glowed a bluish white so it could be seen clearly on both the white and red stripes.
"Wow!" the children gasped in awe. A few of them reached out to run their fingers over the grooved spirals the frost made. They started giggling quietly before they were interrupted by their parents calling their names from the front. "We have to go! Bye, Jack!"
Jack waved at them as they ran back around the tent to their parents. Only Emily and one other girl stayed behind. Jack smiled questioningly at the girl, and she stepped forward and hugged him tightly.
He gave Emily a shocked look over the other girl's head, and Emily held a hand over her mouth to stifle her delighted laughter.
"Bridgett!" a woman's voice called insistently. The girl, Bridgett apparently, ran off around the tent to her mother.
==================BLACKICE======================
I have never felt this sensation before. I'm not in control. I can feel myself being pulled together in a physical form. It has been ages since I have taken this shape, it is an almost foreign feeling. But never have I been pulled into this form by an external entity.
As my eyes form, I can see that I am in a small, dark room. A man stands in front of me. He is tall and tan with dark blonde hair and dull gray eyes. The rest of my humanoid body forms and I am standing on an intricately drawn pentagram. I recognize the symbols, as I recognize the medium with which they were written.
Blood.
I didn't notice her before. Laying there at the mysterious man's feet, a tiny girl, no more than five. Her throat had been slit to provide the blood.
But that's not how she died. No, she was dead before her blood was taken. Had it been taken from a body with a beating heart, it would have gushed out of her before it could be used.
Only one thing could have drawn me here. I can still feel it, the residual fear. To summon a being such as myself, you need a sacrifice. And what better sacrifice for the so called 'god of fear' than to kill a child with their worst fears?
Her hair is still wet. She must have been drowned recently. My newly formed gut clenches at the sight.
The man is still looking at me expectantly. I try to leave, but the spell is strong, I cannot escape the perimeter of the circle, nor can I deconstruct and escape into the darkness. "Why do you summon me?" I demand.
"I want to make a contract," he answers simply.
I quirk an eyebrow at him. "I will not make any contract with you. Release me!"
"I will not! Not until you agree to my conditions!"
I glare at him with as much ferocity as I am capable of in this form. The fear emanating from him grows from a slight apprehension to a frail anxiousness, hardly any gratification.
"Very well, I will negotiate my release," I reply reluctantly.
"My demands are simple. I am tired of living in my twin brother's shadow. We grew up together, received the same treatment, went to the same school, had the same friends, and yet, he revels in success while I am left to clean up after him!"
"That's all very well," I hiss menacingly, "but I would like to get on with things, if you don't mind. What would you have me do? Not kill him, surely. You could have done that yourself."
The man smiles wryly. "No, that won't be necessary. I don't have the skills to command a crowd as my brother does. I require something else to gain their attentions."
"What is it that you and your brother do?" I ask, letting my curiosity get the best of me.
"My brother runs a travelling show of sorts, with performers and animals, to entertain the people of towns all over Europe."
"I know what a circus is," I snap impatiently. "What is your part in all this?"
"I have a small act of my own, amidst the acrobats and animals. A freak show. I showcase people with abhorrent deformities. There were only five of them, none of which were particularly spectacular."
"'Were'?" I asked skeptically.
"One died, two others quit, I sent the last two away. That's where you come in. I know you can change form. I want you to appear as a monstrosity that will shock and amaze!"
I glare skeptically at him. "That is all?"
"Not quite. One show won't be enough. I desire a lifetime of success. You must agree to remain in my freak show until I die. And, of course, you cannot kill me yourself. Do we have an accord?"
He holds out a scroll. Drawn on it is the same seal as is drawn on the floor, and below it are the stipulations of the contract. The small print does not escape me, and I see the line that secures my loyalty to him. I cannot harm him, nor can I allow any harm to come to him via indirect methods.
I growl at him. "I refuse to accept such an arrangement!"
"I will not release you from this circle until you agree!"
An involuntary roar rips through me and I lunge forward, stopping just at the edge of the circle as the spell binds me, but I give him a fright none the less.
I know I cannot harm him while trapped in the circle. He knows this too. He holds up the contract once again.
"Surely the lifetime of a human is nothing to an eternal being such as yourself!" he reasons.
I become desperate to escape the prison and return to the shadows. Letting out another enraged roar, I retreat back to the center of the circle.
"You are forgetting one thing! What do I get out of this? What payment do you offer?"
"As I said, I will release you from the circle."
"Not good enough. I want your fear."
He frowns at me. "My fear? I don't know how to give it to you."
"I can take it myself. After you die, I will extract it from your soul."
"Very well, I accept."
I twist my hand to bring shadows to the parchment and form words, editing it to accommodate the changes.
Hesitantly, I stretch out my hand and touch the document, my signature swirling out from my fingertips.
I'm in a cage. I'm less aware in this monster form, less mentally capable, but I am aware that I am in a cage and that I don't like it. I can hear voices outside, though I don't understand what they are saying.
The curtains are pulled back. Harsh light invades my sights and I growl in annoyance. More voices now. Gasps of horror and disgust.
I look at their terrified faces and feel their fear. It is a different kind of fear, an ugly fear. For the first time in my existence, I am self-conscious. Embarrassed. Ashamed.
I hate them. The people with their judgemental glares, as if the very sight of me insults them.
I growl again, this time with more intensity and purpose. The fear swells again, but the people do not retreat as they should.
It has been years. He keeps me in the cage. I don't need to eat, but I grow weak without fear. In this form, I cannot reach out to the fears of the world. I am barely sustained by the fears I collect from the people who gawk at me every evening.
Mr. Moon, my captor, has changed. His hair has turned white as Moon beams, his eyes have become a silvery blue. I know he has been cursed with immortality.
He carries on as though my torment will end soon enough. He is unaware that he wreaks with eternal youth. Unaware that I know of his deceit.
And I can do nothing to retaliate.
As long as he continues to draw breath, I can do nothing but let the hate in me build. He will die one day, and when he does, I will make him suffer . . .
A light comes down, a golden glow that I recognize immediately. Without my presence, he must have come to investigate. He has a name now, the people call him the "Sand Man". I briefly recall him going by another name, but I hardly paid attention to that sort of thing then.
He doesn't speak. That much I remember. But he has his own way of communicating, by projecting his feelings to me, and in this way he asks why I stay in this cage.
I tell him about the contract. I think I should be ashamed to say this to him, my adversary, but I am numb to this pain as I am so full of other pain.
The Sand Man reminds me of the balance we keep. When one of us gets too strong, the other fights back. In this case, however, Sand Man is too strong, but I am unable to fight.
I thought he would gloat at my misfortune and mock me for it, but he surprises me. If I cannot rise up and tip the scales in my favor, he will fall to my place.
I don't know what he says to Mr. Moon, but the next night, he is in the cage next to me, twirling ribbons of sand like batons.
The people love him and hate me, but that does not bother me. That is the way it has always been, and that is the way it must be.
Jack . . . Jack . . . Jack, wake up . . .
Jack opens his eyes and looks around. For a moment he doesn't know where he is. He was sure just a moment ago he was in that horrible little cage talking to the Sand Man.
His memories return slowly and he looks around his bunk on the train to see who woke him up. Pitch is standing in the aisle between the bunks, looking at him warily.
Jack starts to ask what's going on, but Pitch holds a finger up to his lips and motions for him to follow him out of the car.
Outside of the train, Jack finds Pitch on top of the living car watching the stars. Jack floated up to sit beside him, waiting for him to speak.
"I wanted to apologize," Pitch finally said.
"For what?"
"For giving you that nightmare. It was my memories of how I came to be here. You must have been thinking about it before you fell asleep. I expect Sanderson told you about it."
Jack smiled sheepishly at him. "Sorry. Emily wanted to know everyone's history."
"It's alright. But I suppose you have some questions, yes?"
Jack jumped at the chance. "I'm dying to know what you do! You say you feed on fear; how? And what are you and Sandy, really?"
Pitch sighed. "I don't know what Sandy and I are. I don't remember any beginning, any defining point when we weren't and then we were. I don't even know exactly what our purposes are, just that Sandy brings happiness and joy and I bring fear.
"It was Sandy's idea first to give dreams. People needed dreams as a way of mentally processing what happened in the day. Sandy influenced the dreams to make them happy, and that made him more powerful. It was only by retaliation that I began infecting his precious dream sand to create nightmares.
"He's always going on about 'keeping the balance'," he continued ruefully, "but he's always been more powerful than me. Well . . . not always."
"What do you mean?" Jack asked innocently.
"Have you ever heard of the Dark Ages?"
"Yeah, we had to learn about that in my European History class."
"That was a somewhat feeble attempt on my part to eradicate the Sandman completely."
Jack gasped in shock. Pitch had tried to . . . kill Sandy?
"That was just before Mr. Moon found me. Needless to say, I now have a great deal of respect for Sanderson now."
"Did you really hate him so much?" Jack couldn't help but ask.
"It wasn't that I hated him specifically, I suppose I was just tired of fighting merely to keep us even. It was like playing chess and doing everything in your power to make sure it a draw. I wanted to win!"
"Do you still want to win?"
". . . No. It was a moment of weakness. I had forgotten how important it was."
"But why is it so important?"
"I don't know. Sanderson says it is to help the human race survive. Someone else has said that the fabric of the very universe depends on keeping this balance. I've also heard that we are preparing for something, that all will be made clear upon reaching this unnamed event."
Jack thought deeply about what he had said. It seemed that Pitch and Sandy were some kind of divine beings. It was almost too much to wrap his head around.
As he stared up at the sky, a bright light streaked across it. "Look! A shooting star!" he gasped excitedly, not caring if he sounded childish. "Quick, make a wish!"
Jack wished for the first thing that popped into his head, and for once, it wasn't for the welfare of his sister. He wished that he and Pitch would grow closer. Little did he know, Pitch was wishing the same thing.
So so sorry it took so long but was it worth it or what? Pretty long chapter, you gotta admit! So . . . forgiven?
Also next one will be a while cuz of NaNoWriMo BUT I am nowhere near finished with this story, it is my favorite of all my fanfictions.
Please please please review