Survival

Chapter 3: Welcome to the Dark Ages

"Oh Jack, what have you done?"

'Of all the people to see why did it have to be him? Not even the Guardians know! Only Phil! I've just added fuel to the fire...' Mind still reeling from pain and dread, Jack missed Pitch's hand swinging towards his face and connecting with his cheek. A loud slap echoed though the torch lit chamber. Jack roused from his thoughts enough to glare daggers at the Nightmare King. The slap helped him snap out of it and focus on the situation at hand.

"Since you are obviously used to self inflicted pain I get to be creative. How to break you?" Pitch was circling Jack like a shark with an expression that would frighten said shark.

Jack had a look of concentration on his pale face as ice spread from the broken ends of his humerus fusing the bone together to reduce muscle tearing. 'Ironic really, it's called the humerus. Not very comical if you ask me.' Now in Jack's mortal life he was not well versed in anatomy, but living for centuries eaves dropping on billions of people you pick up various bits of knowledge; especially when your frosty activities cause injuries to passersby. Pain bloomed in left shoulder blade. Brought out of his reminiscing Jack realized Pitch had stopped behind him. It felt like a blade of sandpaper was stuck through bone.

"You really should be paying attention Jackie. I just gave you two options, but you obviously wanted option number two."

Gritting his teeth in agony, he asked: "What was option one?"

"Sorry Jackie, I may offer it again later, but until then we are sticking with option number two. Now relax! Enjoy yourself!" He twisted the dagger of nightmare sand, causing chips of bone to separate and tare through Jack's back muscles. Jack was so thin there really was not much between his pale skin and fragile bones. 'So light even the wind can carry him.' Pitch left the blade in the now gaping wound. The blade and handle were slowing thinning as they dissolved into Jack's bloodstream "Now, where next?"

Jack's eyes darted around the room trying to come up with a plan. Blood was running down his back, a strange sensation. It would start to frost at the edges of the trail but the flowing rivulets would thaw the glistening streaks. All that training hadn't been for nothing had it? One aspect he had trained was creating ice without the use of his staff. His staff was like an amplifier for his powers but not the source. His shoulder was burning and itching while his arm was frozen but broken. He tugged on his right arm experimentally. It did not hurt too bad. The ice held. 'Okay, lets do this' Ice formed on the shackles on this wrists and ankles freezing them and a few links of the chains. He jerked inward with all his might to shatter the bindings.

The ruins glowed.

"Sorry Jack. You're not the only one who's been improving. While you were playing with ice, I was playing with the dark magic common in my heyday. Welcome to your personal dark ages!"

Another dagger suddenly appeared in Pitches hand and found itself embedded in Jack's thigh. It stuck there as Pitch backed away again. A stream of blood stained his pant leg as it ran down past his ankle and dripped onto the floor to join the splatters already formed there. 'Maybe I could push the blade out by forming ice inside of myself? Worth a try at least.' Before he could get enough ice formed inside his thigh the dagger had already dissolved into his bloodstream. 'Not good.' Now that wound was itchy too. Did that mean the other dagger had dissolved as well? He couldn't feel it anymore so it must have. 'So I just have to change tactics. Armor! I just need to encase myself in ice so Pitch can't pierce through it!' Before that idea could be put into effect another dagger punctured in between his ribs on his side and slid along the indentation between the selected ribs till it met his sternum leaving an itching, burning sensation in it's wake. He could no longer take it. A scream ripped though him as the dagger was removed and Pitch slid his finger into the cut and widened it, making a disturbing squelching sound as it too traveled the length of the new incision, tearing as it went. It was too much. His nerves were overloaded and his mind shut down, falling into unconsciousness. Too bad he only escaped to another of Pitch's playgrounds.