Rotg fanfic- Taken Over By Darkness- Part 1
Jack shuddered as he sat on the hospital bed. He couldn't stand it any more. The very thought of it- from each second to the next, he dreaded that it might happen again.
It started with the defeat of Pitch.
He was a Guardian, kids could see him- kids believed in him. He had never been happier. During the day, life was bliss. But then came the night. He couldn't avoid sleep no matter how hard he tried. But every time his eyes started closing, he fought to keep them open; because when they were shut everything went dark, dark meant sleep and sleep meant the nightmares.
He could never remember what they were about or what happened in them. The pure terror he felt waking up from one was almost unbearable. Yet he put up with it every day, or, more often than not, twice when the woke him at night.
The change was slow, subtle. He felt groggier than usual, but he blamed the bad night's sleep. His temper grew shorter, that too he blamed on sleep. The slow, throbbing sensation that grew over the weeks could not be ignored, though.
He'd never troubled the others with it, they were busy, and he didn't want to bother them with something so trivial. On the rare occasion they noticed, waking up screaming at sleepovers, they'd believed it to be a one off, as he'd told them, and given him an extra sprinkling of dreamsand that never seemed to work. Headaches he'd sometimes get due to the throbbing were believed to be solved by a bit of paracetamol. In truth, none of it ever worked. He just pretended it did.
He kept it up for quite a while, but his condition steadily worsened. The throbbing growing to an ache, then to stabbing pains, spreading right through his body, so that not a single part of him was spared the agony. The nightmares got so bad, he struggled to stay awake through every day. Every moment spent fighting the battle to stay conscious; a battle he was losing more with every passing day, as his strength and will faded.
Finally, only when he'd collapsed, overwhelmed by the multitude of problems, had the others found out. Then he'd discovered what had been happening to him at night. Pitch had been forcing nightmare sand into him. Every night, grain by grain. Into his blood, through his heart and under his skin. The dark grit had slowly been wearing him down and it had finally succeeded. Pain and a fever brought misery to his every waking hour, spent in the North Pole's hospital bed. He often swore he could feel the sand writhing within him. When he slept, the nightmares were almost enough to make him long for those short agonising stretches when he broke consciousness.
If only pain had been the end of it. If only the pain had finished him, that would have been so much better than what was to follow.
The sand's intended purpose was not to bring pain and despair to the youngest Guardian, but to take over his body and mind. Any pain it did cause him, so much the better. But controlling him had been Pitch's goal all along.
The Guardians hadn't known this at first, and had been frantic to save the young spirit. Trying everything they could, but it seemed to make little or no difference. Then, when things seemed to be turning for the better- his fever going down, and sleeps more peaceful- the first overshadowing began. None of them had been in the infirmary to witness the change, but they all saw it's effects.
Long, dark tendrils of nightmare sand curled through the doors, that were blasted open. They'd rushed over weapons at the ready... and they saw him. Jack-no, it wasn't him- they refused to associate the cheerful winter spirit with the monster they saw before them. Coal black hair, glowing eyes, the same sickly yellow as Pitch's and the once-pale skin ashen grey; nightmare sand curling round and flowing from their master.
A terrifying sight to say the least.
He'd fired blasts of ice around the pole, destroying many toys and injuring many yetis and elves who'd been too slow to get out of the way. The Guardians had managed to subdue him, by knocking him out, before he did any real damage. But the knowledge of what had happened had shaken the Guardians to their core. They didn't know what to do. They dreaded what their friend might do it if happened again, and even more so what they might have to do to stop it.
Jack had come back to himself, shortly afterwards, and when he finally managed to convince the others to tell him what had happened, he wished he had never asked. Every passing second since that moment had been spent with the knowledge, the fear, that that very second could be his last. That at any moment he could be taken over and forced to do Pitch's dirty work. He didn't dare think what that might involve, and he definately didn't want to think about what he might do to the other Guardians, when the time finally came- and their was no doubt that it would.
So, he sat there, on his bed, terrified. Muttering to himself.
"I can't, what if hurt- no, dont even think about it. Just stay awake, stay awake. I can't let anything happen to them. I have to find a way, have to keep them safe." His gaze, slowly, landed on the staff resting on the bedside cabinet, on the other side of the room. "I won't let myself hurt them. I have to keep them safe, stop myself from hurting them. At all costs. I must do it- I must." Slowly, he stood and walked across the room. "I have to- I must. Got to keep them safe..." He reached out to grasp the wood, as he had done so many times before. Holding it out in front of him with both hands.
"I have to."
Steadying his resolved, he tightened his grip- and then he felt it. A dark, malevolent presense, slowly draping over his mind. His arms shuddered "No! I have to!" He fought to keep the presense back. Hands tensing and loosening their grip on the staff, as he fought for control over them. He didn't want to do this. He really didn't. The last time, it had been so painful- and that awful feeling of emptiness... but he to keep the other guardians safe. He had save them. Had to do it.
Shaking his head to try and clear the dark thoughts away, he squeezed the wood of the staff, as he brought his head upwards. Taking a shaky, tense breath, he gathered the remains of his will.
"Jack!" He heard the voice as though from a great distance, it meant nothing to him anymore. Only one thought remained of Jack Frost. He had to do it.
His face screwed up, in preparation of the worst. Then, with the last of his will, he swung his hands round and together.
The snap could be heard throughout the entire workshop. The air suddenly deadened.
North rushed forwards to help the newest Guardian. The snow white hair turned black, as the two broken halves of the staff, clattered to the floor.
Authors note: first chapter ^^ hope you enjoyed it- I'll be back tommorow with the next oneso until them thanks for reading:-D.