Disclaimer: Not mine. Now read the author's note.

AN: Before you guys read the chapter there is something I want to stress here: I have never read the novels of the Guardian's of Childhood, and I'm taking facts about them from wiki. I know I'm not being 100% canon, but neither is the movie, mind you, so I tried to draw a middle line.

I hope the absurd length of this chapter make all of you forgive me for making a huge flashback out of the chapter, but I felt that we need some background to answer the question of "why Pitch is interested in Danny".

Having said that, I wish to dedicate this chapter to Inviso-Al and Daniella Violet Moon for being awesome and reviewing every chapter so far. I love you guys (TT^TT)

BTW. I'm still posting chapters unbetaed, and I did try some fancy wording, so I guess that I might have screw-messed up a little bit. Plus the typos. Gotta hate those. Anyway, I'm rambling. So I'll shut up now, because you didn't come here to read my rambles, you came here to read some fic. Which I know, so I'll keep my thought's to myself, because that's what considerate people do, and I'm smart enough to know when you are fed up with me rambling... Pretty smart of me, huh? knowing when to shut up and all... Yeah, now on with the chapter :P

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Chapter 5: The flashback before Christmas.

Everything finished before it started, defeat being there both after and before everything. He had been tossed aside, buried, forgotten. He had been forced to remain in the shadows, withering, as the guardians put an end to the dark ages. He had been forced to remain weak while his name —his name, which once struck fear left and right— became something laughed at, a source of mockery from society to whomever believed in it, in him, anymore. On those light-filled days, the Boogieman had become little more than a memory and a joke. The king of Nightmares had lost his realm.

It was no mystery that the dethroned king of darkness wanted it all back: the respect, the glory, the tremble his mere existence caused in all the children in the world; so he spent his exile within the shadows, thinking and plotting, planning and preparing for the right moment to build the path for his triumphant return, to put in motion his plan to get back what was rightfully his— the world.

Bitter centuries he spent alone, alone with his the memories of the happy old days in which humanity had been reduced to a trembling masses of frightened beings; even the bravest men amongst them feared his name and the shadows. Those once joyous times kept on poisoning his soul, tormenting him to no end as they mockingly reminded him of what was lost to him.

He could never forgive them, nor his old friend Man In The Moon, nor his lapdogs —the Guardians. He still remembered the cursed day it all began: a long time ago, to bring to an end the happiness Pitch Black had been basking in since the King of Nightmares conquered Earth, Man In The Moon had called his first guardian, Sanderson Mansnoozie.

Mansnoozie —his small, golden body hiding power that could even rival Pitch's own influence on the hearts of kids and grown-ups alike— was clearly both a threat and an enemy, for he was a source of light, while Pitch himself was shadow.

A struggle began between good and evil, between light and darkness. The dreams the little Mansnoozie brought about with his golden sand seeded the idea that the world was filled with an endless beauty that could be attain it they dared to look beyond the fear they were buried in. Pitch, on the other hand, kept on manipulating the shadows, trying to keep alive the dark flames of fear that lived within each and every single being, so the gaze of humanity would forever remain in the darkness, allowing him to feed from their agony. The tiles began to turn on the once invincible King of Nightmares with the first guardian: he was no longer all-powerful, and, for the first time, he felt threatened.

As the time passed, the light began pushing the darkness, the same way the sun pushed away the night. The terror in the heart of men became weaker with the pass of time as the dreams were followed by wonder, then hope —all of which would be strengthened by a queen with the power of bringing back the happy memories, even when despair was supposed to drown them away.

Time after time, Pitch fought alone against each of Man in the Moon's guardians, and time after time he would lose a bit of ground and control over the world he once ruled completely. It was clear that Pitch soon would have to strike with everything he got to put end to the forsaken ones who opposed him before they made their influence to overpower his: it was time for war.

The battle between the King of Nightmares and the forces of light wasn't like any other war ever fought. It was unknown who would come victorious when it started, but, ultimately, fate gave it's back to Pitch, and smiled upon the guardians. The good prevailed over the shadows, and the dark ages came to an end.

Pitch Black had lost and, in his defeat, he became weak. He had barely escaped destruction by running away in the nick of time. He was forced to humiliatingly retreat and hide while his perfect realm of fright crumbled, and a new life of happiness for the mortals was born from the dark ashes of despair. And soon, the world, once submitted to his will no longer needed him, no longer wanted him, and rejoiced on its newfound freedon. Then, at some point, as he struggled to regain the power once lost, Pitch began to be forgotten.

But the once king was not about to resign himself to the crumbs he feed of now to keep his existence going (specially not after having tasted the ultimate power for so long). Pitch knew that the one he needed out of the way the most was the one who had managed to stand up to him on his own when he was at the strongest: he needed to get rid of Sanderson Mansnoozie, the Sandman. So he began, snatching away little golden specks, one by one, and searching for a way to corrupt the root of dreams into sources of nightmares.

Getting rid of dreams was essential to Pitch's plan; after all, the wishes that people fought to attain were born out of dreams, and, without something to fight for, the world around humans would become hallow and empty —A perfect terrain for fear to blossom.

Pitch's plan had been flawless. He would first make sure that the happy memories of childhood couldn't be easily brought back by the Tooth Fairy; then he would put an end to his greatest nemesis, the Sandman; and make sure that hope could not be born again by striking during Easter, preventing from it to happen. Then, while he took over the world, he would laugh at the moon, while his old friend was forced to become a witness of everything.

Things had gone just as he had expected at the beginning, tricking the bombastic Nicholas S. North to summon all the guardians and leave their realms unprotected allowed him to steal all the reminders of happy times in the Tooth realm; then he took out Sandman easily, and was about to do the same with the rest of the guardians. But then, the unexpected happened: Jack Frost —a winter spirit he never considered as worthy of his attention— got in his way, attacking with a shocking amount of raw power, creating a chance for the others to escape.

The wildcard that was Jack Frost managed to keep the last spark of belief alive; an insignificant miscalculation that should have been easily fixed, but wasn't. As Pitch made his way to destroy the last light of the last kid, he was bested. The kids fought with the courage he fought so hard to crush, and being affronted with such a strong positive emotion struck hard on the still recovering Pitch, who had used quite a lot of his power in the fight already. Then, as he launched an attack against the kids whose faith had been reestablished, the worst happened: The light turned the nightmares back into dreams, and the black, corrupted sand he had used to destroy Mansnoozie became golden once more, and the guardians of dreams was revived.

Everything began to fall like a house of cards after that.

In a matter of minutes, Pitch went from having the upper-hand to being beaten by the Sandman. The confidence the dethroned black king had attained in his plan was lost, and Pitch feared that he would once again go back to how he had been after he lost the war: a helpless shadow that nobody feared anymore. In the face of the fear Pitch was now feeling, his monsters of black sand, the night-mares, turned their greedy, gold eyes towards him, ready to consume their own creator.

When all was said and done, all his great comeback had mounted to was another failure.

Pitch Black, was once more pushed into the never-ending darkness and baring a punishment he didn't deserve under the ravenous presence of the embodiments of fear he had created.

Pitch Black was bitterly aware of how unfair it had all been.

He had been refused a chance to get back what he had lost.

All Pitch had ever wanted was been remembered and feared, and to make the world go back into the realm of delightful nightmares and torments it was always supposed to be. Why should he be punished for it? Pitch didn't understand. All he knew was that those centuries' worth of efforts hadn't been rewarded: his life kept on being simply a display of one deception after another. He would fight and he would fail, that was all his life amounted to: a never-ending cycle of deception.

Under this thoughts, and trapped in an even deeper state of abject misery than any other he had ever been trapped in before, Pitch lost whatever fighting spirit he had ever struggled to keep. So, with no force to fight his own fears anymore, Pitch simply lied there, lifelessly, not caring if he stopped existing right then and there.

As Pitch fell into a depressed, borderline-catatonic slumber, the world outside his realm continued to shift and move. Days became moths, months became a year, two years, three, and then Pitch opened his silver-golden eyes. The slumber that was supposed to have last an eternity had been cut short. But he had not woken up because he was ready to come out of his slumber; no, something had awakened him, something delightful and glorious, something he had not felt for so long: Fear. True fear. The one that has its roots in the deepest part of human's heart; a fear humans once felt while facing of the world around them, a fear that was born from a darkness more bleak than any other.

Pitch sat on the dirt ground he had been laying on. The black horses that had once chased him into his realm had long since crumbled into dust —or they no longer could feed of his almost-fading existence—, leaving behind a shapeless mess of black sand. However, Pitch barely paid attention to the physical aspect of the obscure, underground lair he encountered himself in; instead focusing on the feeling that poured in from the outside world.

As dull eyes slowly regained their shine, the obscure man marveled in the fright he could feel from the outside. Slowly, as if coming out of a daze, he could feel more little sources of fear spread all over the world, but they paled in comparison to the one that kept on delightfully reminding him of the ones that were once abundant in the ages he was at the peak of his power and domain.

Pitch moved to stand up, barely noticing that the legs that had once grown too weak to support his own weight were now containing a strength that had long since left them. The heart in his chest that had long since stopped beating drummed a dark tune, and his very being was waving off a hope he had never thought he would regain. He stood up on the quiet darkness and made a move towards the hole in the ceiling, which connected with the clearing of the forest that rose outside his realm.

For a moment, Pitch recoiled as the dim light of the stars that poked his eyes —he had grown so unaccustomed to any form of light that even those became blinding—, but he decided to ignored his discomfort as he turned into a shadow, moving forwards, focused on the source of that marvelous spark fear with an obsessive drive, moving him towards it.

It was within a blink of an eye that the dethroned king of nightmares arrived to the outskirts of the small town of Amity Park, even less from there to the window of a brick house with an odd-shaped, green construction on top. However, the peculiarities of the house didn't even registered as he practically teleported inside a room in which a black-haired teen was tossing and turning in restless sleep, droplets of cold sweat running down the pale temple of the human.

As the unknown teen was clearly engulfed on a nightmare, Pitch's lips grew a fond, and let out an almost loving smile as feelings of full terror glowed out of the small body and gave Pitch a welcome embrace. A slender, grey hand touched the sweaty forehead with a caring touch while silver-gold eyes glowed with greed and hunger, making the sleeping whimper unknowingly.

Pitch stayed motionless besides the teen, clawing to the feeling emanating from him like a shipwreck would a table of wood. For Pitch, it was as if the whole world had reduced itself to the boy in front of him.

Even though Pitch had focused every bit of his conscious and power towards the kid within his sight, there was something interfering with his ability to feed off from him —which he intended. As Pitch tried to grasp the power the fright in the boy would provide, it let him pass through like an untouchable fog. It was like he was being offered the world through a wall of glass; Pitch could practically savor the palatable fear, but the quelling thirst in his throat was not being at all satiated. But he kept on trying: the promise of what would come to him if he reached forwards was so unattainably sweet, so delightful yet tormenting in its unattainable state.

Pitch's instincts made him aware that he needed to find a way to break the barrier that separated him from his food if he ever wanted to return to the peak of the world. So, focusing every bit of power he possessed, he focused on the fear again, which displayed itself like a the most divine spectacle, in the shape of an ethereal painting he could taste rather than see. He tried to take a hold of the fear he could see, but it slipped from his fingers like water, leaving a tingling sensation on them.

"No, I won't turn into him," the teen cried in his sleep, as if the touch of the King of Nightmares had worsened his nightmare.

At the sight of this, Pitch moved his head forward ever-so-slightly, unconsciously, to look at the boy, making a forgotten speck of black dust fall from his bangs towards the teen, and a vision flashed in Pitch's eyes as it made contact with closed eyes. Suddenly a world of destruction rose in front of Pitch; the images were invading his mind were brutal and raw. People ran in a very familiar fright as some sort of green beans threatened them into running. He could see the desperate plea in the eyes of people who looked at him in the eye, instants before he would bring the lives of their owners to their end. A symphony of screams pierced through everything and he laughed with a voice that was not his own, feeling untouchable. The power that wrapped around him was born out of despair and sadness; Pitch felt himself basking in a body that feed on misery and found joy in bringing the world to its knees.

Suddenly, a young, dark-haired, purple-eyed female jumped in front of him with arms stretched, "Danny, don't let him win," she begged Pitch, but he just laughed and raised his hand which was now shinning an unnatural green. Then, the shine intensified and a beam of green shot forwards to the girl, and he knew without being told that she would die when it touched her.

"NOOOOO!" He could feel the world around him disintegrate as the beam made contact with the girl, and, before he could register what was happening, he was pushed to a corner of the room he had been standing in before.

One instant he had been destroying the world, the next he was on his knees on a corner of a teenager's room. The change had been so disorienting that Pitch simply lied there, on the floor, mutely observing the teen who clutched his heart with a trembling hand while tears ran down his cheeks. The guilt in those blue eyes mixed with the delightful fright that had lead Pitch all the way to their owner, but both feelings slowly subdued as he brought his breath back into control.

"A dream, it was all a bad dream," the teen, Danny, chanted like a mantra, "I won't become him, I promised."

Pitch knew, without a shred of a doubt what the fear of this teenager was —it was painfully obvious. The human feared the very same thing he yearned: a world of destruction and darkness; however, despite the teen's current attitude, Pitch was sure he could see himself in this boy for, as the dream played on. The one the teen, Danny, was in his slumber found delight in others' fear as much as the King of Nightmares himself, and held a power that even surpassed the one he possessed as he was the absolute ruler of Earth. The dream persona was a kindred spirit, there was no denying it. And Pitch knew that Danny didn't just fear destroying the world randomly: the nature of the King of Nightmares allowed him to look into any soul and discover the thing it feared the most. For that reason, Pitch knew that turning into someone that would destroy the world was a fear born of certainty; the boy knew the visions were a real possibility and —although the details on how such thing would be possible evaded him— he was fighting not to stray from the path of light.

For quite a long time, the King of Nightmares had felt like he had been alone in the world; having no one who could understand his pain, no one to share the victory when he ultimately managed to drown the world into darkness.

Maybe it was because of this craving of finding empathy that Pitch had reached to Jack Frost in the past: he had been so sure that the spirit —who had lived invisible to the world just as he was, and who had been craving for a place to belong to— might be the person the King of Nightmares had been waiting all along to stand by his side and put end to his solitude. But Jack Frost wasn't that person. Pitch had been deluding himself.

The staff-wielding winter spirit had been walking the patch of light all along, but Pitch had failed to notice —blinded, as he was, with an unbearable desire to find some company in his endless, solitary life.

But this time, as Pitch Black saw the trembling teen in front of him, he knew he had found someone with an inner darkness as intense as his own, someone who could comprehend him more than any other being in the word; and yet, this teenager was resisting his fate, trapped in a pointless struggle: wanting to take a path of light while being destined by darkness.

The fear that Pitch had felt emanating from the blue-eyed human vanished slowly, leaving no more than a muffled presence that he probably wouldn't have noticed had he not been standing in the same room. But weather Pitch could currently notice it or not something he didn't care too much about: he knew what had been in the teen's soul, and with a little push he should be able to bring the world to the state it had been inside that sweet little nightmare of panic and destruction.

For the first time in three years Pitch felt that that which he had so long desired could be attained: a world of endless despair and fear in which he shall rule with someone by his side

However, as much as Pitch wanted to reach forwards to his newfound family, he didn't. It would be of no use to show himself in his current, pathetic and weakened state to the one he was destined to rule alongside with. No, he needed to plan the first encounter carefully, obtain the power to help to tempt the boy and get rid of the goodness in Danny's heart, so it could be corrupted. Then, after Pitch had regained his strength he would be able to claiming his prize, his son…A son, yes, that's what he could now see in the boy that had slumped back into the bed, looking at the stars beyond the window, shining into a sky with no moon.

So, before anyone could be the wiser about his presence in the room, Pitch left, silent as a shadow, to the outside, fully planning to feed on the fear that was unusually abundant in the small town.

It took Pitch Black little time to regain the strength he had lost in his last fight against the guardians by feeding of Amity Park's inhabitants. The people living in the small town seemed to be tormented by otherworldly beings of a kind Pitch had never once encountered before —ghosts. Each and every single time one of those specters made an apparition in the town, they would cause a massive wave of terror, but would soon be defeated by a white haired spirit which was clearly vent on protecting the human population —unknowingly ruining Pitch's feeding time, which thus came to him in the form of intermittent mouthfuls of intense, raw power.

Hadn't this white-haired "hero" been around, Pitch was sure his full recovery would have come in so much sooner. However, it wasn't the delay that bothered Pitch the most. The distinct fear that he had found in the teen was also present in the town's protector. Pitch tried to deny the implications of what he felt, but, after one night of following Danny Phantom, he saw the green-eyed soldier of goodness transform into his would-be charge and ally.

Danny Phantom was his Danny. That revelation came to him like a slap in the face.

However, despite of his anger at the turn of events, Pith didn't give up on the idea of making Danny a companion; in fact, he seemed more enamored than ever with the idea of it happening now that he knew the power the not-quite human possessed.

Not particularly interested in discovering which kind of non-human Danny was, Pitch never marveled too deeply on the fact that Danny seemed to be dead and alive at the same time, though a couple of curiosity-filled questions did pop on the back on his head. But questions could wait. For the time being he simply continued to gather power from the frightened citizens. It might not be as satisfactory to collect fear caused by other entities, but the fact that everyone in town could see ghosts —which human found to be quite terrifying— helped him gather power at too much of a fast rate to pass up the opportunity. So he stayed, enjoying his constant free meals as he thought of a plan to drown Earth in despair and bring Danny Phantom to the dark side.

Days became weeks and, in no time, late November became mid December, and the little town began to be decorated according the most popular festivity of the world —which hailed the Guardian of Wonder with a love and adoration.

The jolly atmosphere in the decorated cities all over the world radiated light and happiness, adding insult to injury to the King of Nightmares as it constantly reminded Pitch his defeat against the guardians. Had Pitch defeated the guardians of childhood, there would have been no more Easter, not Christmas, and the happy smiling children of the world would now belong to him. The only thing that brought some resemblance of peace to the number one enemy of the guardians was that certain teenager was sharing his hate and spite towards the whole cheery atmosphere —another sign that the teen belonged to the dark side with him.

Finally, a few days before Christmas, Pitch had gained so much power that he was certain he wouldn't be needing a too elaborated scheme to take on the guardians. He would simply use the same technique he had used with the Sandman's sand in the past to expunge the teenager's heroism out of him, so the darkness that sat inside of him would flow free as it should.

Turning Danny Phantom's heart bleak the way he corrupted the dream sand was an idea that came to him on accident when Pitch had been observing the ghost hero the night he first saw the white light that let Danny Phantom mimic a regular human appearances. Pitch could almost play the memory of the white-haired hero chasing around a little green puppy in the middle of a particularly cloudy night.

"Cujo, come here boy," Pitch remembered him calling the dog, which hopped cheerfully into the teen's hold. "Good doggie," the teen scratched the furry belly, making the puppy move one of his hinder legs happily.

Eventually, the ghost-boy put the dog on the ground and spoke to it like it could understand him. "Look, Cujo, I know you want to play but I don't have time for this. You have to stay at the zone." Cujo whined in return, its little black tail moving nonstop. "Fine," the teen spoke in defeat and created a glowing green ball of energy, and the dog perked and jumped out of his arms, chasing the ball the moment it left the teen's hands.

A-minute-or-so after the dog was back and the white haired pointed what looked like a metallic thermos on the puppy, making it vanish the same way Pitch had seen several other ghost vanish inside of the contraption in the last two nights. It was after this "capture" that the green eyes became blue and white hair became black. Pitch had been so angry, that he lashed out on an unlucky green blob that floated around idly.

As Pitch's shadow attack collided with the blob, it turned black and its once red eyes became golden, and bared a full row of pointy teeth Pitch wasn't sure was there before, before launching itself into a wall, making the people inside scream in fright seconds later. Pitch had found then that his powers had a very… interesting effect in Amity Park's ghosts, though he restrained himself from using that power on his would be son for the time being —though he practiced it in other small ghosts, looking for a way to control the ones he corrupted.

The plan of turning the hero into a fiend would be executed the day before Christmas. Pitch had found out after some observation —observation, not stalking, Pitch Black didn't do stalking— that his powers made the little ghosts he touched untraceable to Danny the same way the other's made him unable to feed for the fear the teen was constantly feeling.

Pitch could already see his new pre-Christmas scheme playing out. He would look the powerful teenager in his sleep, turn his heart black then have him join him —with force if necessary— into his fight against Christmas and all it entailed. Funnily, though, he would latter change his mind into corrupting him first: it looked like the teen wanted to get rid of Christmas even more than he did.

However, Pitch's evil plans would be ruined before he could put it into motion. For some reason he could not fathom, the guardians made it to the small town, wanting to take his future pupil away from him. Or at least that's what he figured when he saw certain rabbit spying the teen.

Not wanting to risk the guardian's ruining everything by "amending" Danny's increasingly dark attitude, by turning him to their side with pretty promises of light and righteous conviction, he moved silently on the shadows, until both parties came to an stop.

Not making a move yet, Pitch remained hidden, looking over the conversation between the guardian and his fellow raven-haired. Usually, Pitch would have taken actions sooner given that the guardian in front of his eyes was alone, and that the fear he had been consuming had gave him quite a buff of power; yet, he didn't. A part of Pitch —the part that had kept adamant about getting close to another being— made him stay in the sidelines, looking for a sign that Danny would be another Jack Frost. However, that restrain grew weaker with each insult the teen sent to the rabbit.

It wasn't until it E. Aster Bunnymund made a threatening gesture towards the teen that Pitch finally let his presence known.

"Pitch," The Easter Bunny looked around cautious. Danny rose an eyebrow at that, and Pitch began turning the shadows bleaker.

"Who is there!" Danny asked in the same way he had seen him countless in the little time he had spent in Amity Park. The fact that the teen referred to him now the same way he did his enemies made him chuckle heartily, the sound bouncing eerily in the somewhat-narrow alley.

"Come out, Pitch," the rabbit demanded and he complied.

The looks of horror he got from the guardian of hope as he showed himself wrapped in dark power was delightful, as it was the feeling of tossing the overgrown rabbit through a brick wall with a strike. It had been so millennia since his body had so much power within. He was almost as powerful as he was during the last great war, at the end of the years of darkness.

"Hey," Danny called loudly when it was only the two of them of the alley.

"Good night, Danny… or should I say, Phantom?" Pitch asked softly in a sultry voice. Danny didn't falter, not even at the presence of a being several times his height and wide.

"You are… not a ghost," he declared more than asked, before narrowing his eyes a little, clearly never once mistaking Pitch for a human given the gargantuan size, that reflected the power he currently possessed. "What are you?"

"A friend."

Danny slowly got into a battle stance, "Somehow I doubt that."

"Won't you hear what I have to say? How rude," Pitch began then, noticing Danny seemed to be listening despite his refusal he continued; "I believe we both have something in common. Something we both hate: Christmas." Danny's battle stance became less marked, less wary, and a spark of interest appeared in his blue eyes and Pitch grinned.

"Go on," Danny prompted.

Pitch's grin grew wide. "Together we can put an end to this times of joy and happiness; together we can take on the guardians and put an end to the days of light. Then, after there is no more wonder, hope or dreams, we shall rule this world, together, my son."

Any and all interest the teen had portrayed before vanished into a long, frustrated groan. "Great, another fruitloop," He mumbled to himself all to audibly before turning his gaze back to Pitch, "No. Look, pal. This whole evil partnership it's never going to happen," he resolutely denied.

At the face of this flat refusal, Pitch's somewhat peppy disposition turner sour. "Have it your way," he declared, and launched a heavy mass of shadow into the teen as a hallow of white light split into two. The attack landed on the teen while he was in his deceitfully-human appearance, making the boy scream loudly before passing out from the pain. Before the limp body touched the ground, though, Pitch caught it gently and lifted him from the ground easily.

The King of Nightmares would have used his powers to corrupt Danny right then and there, if not for the figure emanating from the crumbled brick wall. "Enjoyed your little nap?" Pitch taunted.

"Let go of him, Pitch," Bunnymund demanded, taking out two boomerangs from behind himself.

"Oh, aren't we feisty?" Pitch slurred, more focused in enjoying the moment than in to putting his plans in motion. After all, he deserved to savor his little moment of glory. Moving to the nearest brick wall, Pitch released the darkness he had been gathering for the transformation of the teenager, making the brick crack soundlessly. "I'm afraid that I can't do that, I might wake up the poor thing."

Snapping at pitch's words, Bunnymund leaped towards Danny, and Pitch swatted the rabbit back once more.

Pitch was mildly surprised that the guardian managed to stand up again with how much he was shaking, but fell down promptly after that.

"Need a hand?" Pitch offered, looking down even more on the guardian than he had been while his height doubled on Bunnymund's standing one.

Bunnymund growled, green, tear-brimmed eyes looked into silver-gold ones, with a fierceness that Pitch found quite comical given the situation. "You must be wondering," Pitch began anew, giving a step forwards, "about what is going to happen now… oh, yeah, I can see it in your eyes: the fear. Oh, such a beautiful fear. Fear for the fate and the pesky little children of Earth, fear for existence and, of course, fear of me," he grinned wickedly, "How the mighty have fallen."

"I won't give up, I'll defeat you," Bunnymund declared with laughable conviction,"you will be defeated, just like you were the last time." That one hit a nerve.

"Last time," A scowl formed on Pitch's face as he practically spat the words, after having his defeat rubbed in his face. However, he wouldn't show how much those defeat had bothered him; not anymore. He was about to become the ultimate ruler of the world, after all; so he forced himself into resentful calmness.

"A lot have happened since that time, rabbit, a lot indeed..." Pitch trailed absently, then his focus was back on the guardian, then down to the limp teen on his arm, "oh, so much indeed." He crawled Danny's much smaller form lovingly, removing a lock out of his face. He could almost see the gory nightmare the teenager was having and something akin to love blossomed on his chest as he gazed to the only person in the world worthy of ruling the world by his side.

"Let him go," Bunnymund, interrupted the contemplative moment, his tone sounded entirely repulsed. Pitch looked back at the bunny with disdain, only to find him standing weakly with his boomerangs in hands once more.

As much as Pitch had loved to humiliate the guardian, the whole conversation was turning too repetitive for his taste."Tut, tut, tut," Pitch wriggled a finger as he began summoning the shadows, and readied from a last attack, but not before going in for a last mockery of at the guardian's expense. "Shoosh, let's his wonderful little nightmare go on for a little longer, I'm sure this is past his bedtime."

Soon enough, the bunny had been wrapped all the way to his neck into a cocoon of shadows. "I'm afraid it is time to turn off the lights," Pitch looked up to the night sky, to the glowing full moon. "Say goodbye to your guardian, old friend," Pitch spoke to the Man in the Moon —who he had been hiding from ever since his last comeback so he could take the guardians off guards when he finished them—knowing that there was nothing that his old friend could do from so far above.

Feeling full of himself, Pitch let the black tendrils go up extremely slowly, fully enjoying the fear coming from the guardian, and feeding from it until unconsciousness took the rabbit completely.

The King of Nightmares would have gone for the kill, but something slammed him on the back, freezing him in mid-blow. Literally.

Pitch, who had only ever encountered one person capable of controlling ice, knew exactly who had attacked him. "Jack Frost," Pitch spat as his shadows formed cracks in the thick ice the ice spirit had wrapped around him.

The ice that once would have been strong enough to make him retreat, and face him upfront has little effect now. The only reason the attack had landed had been because it came as a surprise, and Pitch was now easily freeing himself from the ice. However, once Pitch had break enough of the ice to see through it he noticed the true purpose of it had not been to harm him.

In a swift move, two guardians leapt forwards, one —North— cutting the cocoon with sharp, dual swords as the other —Jack— managed to snatch the passed-out teen in his arms easily, as the ice cave in to its master.

Pitch let out a growl as he began turning himself into shadows to escape through the displacement Jack had created to retrieve the human; however, he only managed to materialize himself outside in time to see a familiar swirling portal whooshing out of existence, the images of Santa's Workshop briefly flashing before he was left alone in the now-deserted alley.

A growl of fury pierced the heavens and sent a few car-alarms blazing as the King of Nightmares failed against the guardians again; however, instead of disappointment and depression, all that filled Pitch was the desire to destroy the guardians once and for all. So, this time, Pitch decided not to take any chances; he would keep on feeding from the people of Amity Park, only that this time, they would be running away from him, fearing him. The best thing was, that now that the guardians knew he was back he needn't restrain himself from wreaking havoc.

So, with a borderline-mad drive Pitch rose from the narrow alley to the open wide street, ready to prey in a town left without his protector.

To be continued.

.

AN: Ok, those were a lot of words. I hope you enjoyed it. Also, I wanted to apologize again for most of the chapter being flashback. But, hey! Danny is going to Santa's Workshop! Who is looking forwards to that *raises hand*. Very well… Oh, right, I said on the first author note that I was explaining the book thing. Well, you see, in the wikia of the movie it says that Sandman is the first guardian, but I think the books actually have him as the fourth; the first being North, then Bunnymund, then Toothania. I also skipped the whole story on how Pitch became Pitch, and why he calls MiM "Old friend" both in this fic and the movie.

Also, I know this might come as irrelevant but it's got to be said. Having Pitch obsess over Danny —though it makes sense with the setting— was hard to write without it sounding, well, gay. I have nothing against gay pairings, but it would be horribly messed up and over K+ in my book to go with this one.

Now, before I forget, I want to ask who you want the next's chapter POV to be on. We have yet to have North and Sandman, and Tooth, but I'm not a big fan of the fairy, and I doubt I could get a decent narration about her in character; in fact, I imagine the chapter's narration going like this.

Toothania looked at the unconscious boy, and almost moved forwards to check on his teeth. She remembered the teeth she got from the teen in his youth. He always brushed his teeth, and flossed. She wondered if they were still as white as she remembered , but knew permanent teeth were always darker than milk ones… except for Jack Frost's. His teeth were so minty-fresh and white….AND I'm going to stop there. I feel like brushing my teeth now.

Ok, back on subject. I still haven't decided if next chapter should narrated by North or by Sandman. So, you know the drill;

vote A for Santa

vote B for Sandman (Both are so promising and fun *sobs* I can't decide).

DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!

Ps. I make a 200 word offer per review, since the next chapter is going to be of an unknown length.