Survival

Chapter 4: First Nightmare

It was dark and cold. 'Where am I? Last I remember was Pitch... Oh. I must be in a nightmare. Great. Just what I need. Wait...' He was under water. This wasn't just a nightmare, it was a memory. 'I'm in the lake. Must breath!' Floundering, Jack struggled to try and reach the icy surface for the much needed air. Too bad he had never learned how to swim in his mortal life, but after centuries of observation he had a good idea of how it worked now. Using his hands and feet like a frog he drew nearer to the elusive surface only to realize it had frozen over again. Beating his fists against the unyielding ice he struggled. His lungs burned and he could no longer feel his limbs. Then he noticed a complication; the more contact he had with the ice, the thicker it got. He screamed in frustration before he remembered to conserve air. Too late. Water came rushing into his lungs in a freezing torrent. He was dying yet again. His vision was black at the edges. This time the moon was not present. He was to die utterly alone. Suddenly there was a large cracking sound behind him and the sound of something falling into the lake. Using his last strength he turned his head to see none other than his little sister in the same situation as himself. Pointless. His death was pointless. How could this happen? What had he done to deserve this? Sure he was on the naughty list but his sister never was! Wait, did this part really happen or was it a twist of fate constructed by the nightmare? He couldn't remember. It had been so long ago. Had he only seen part of the memory stored in his teeth or was this a perversion? Struggling to reach for his beloved sister his vision narrowed until it was completely back. He could feel nothing. He was nobody now. Just someone who died without a cause in a frozen lake.

He came to throwing up water.

"Hello again Jack. Did you miss me? You were out for almost 15 minutes! I hope it was pleasant, but by the looks of it, I doubt it. Shall we continue?"

Spluttering and choking, Jack glared at the Nightmare King. "What *cough* did you *cough* do to me? *cough* Why do I have *cough* water in my lungs? *cough* It was just a nightmare!"

"Oh Jackie. Did you think you were the only one improving your skills these past 137 years? I have made some improvements as well. Those daggers I used had ruins carved in them which your body assimilated when the daggers were absorbed into your bloodstream. Now not only does your mind live your nightmares but your body as well."

"You're sick."

"Oh no, my dear Jackie Boy, I am just having fun." His grin spread upwards at the twisted use of Jack's center. "Now, to continue where we left off." A rope of nightmare sand slithered up Jack's only good leg and around his torso like a snake. It squeezed tighter, constricting his breathing, when suddenly spikes shot out along the rope tearing into his flesh. "Much more effective than individual knives don't you think?"

It hurt. It hurt so bad. Tears were frozen in tracks down his face. Those thorns had to be at least two inches long each. How much blood could he loose before he passed out again into another nightmare? This was not looking good. Also, could be die? Could immortals die? Sandy had, but was revived again once he could separate himself from the rest of the nightmare sand since they were made of the same elements. Was death an option? Suddenly there was a mighty tug on the rope and it recoiled dragging the thorns with it in long spirals down his torso and leg 'till it finally lay limp on the crimson floor. Jack's scream echoed around the chamber. He was being shred to ribbons. Shredded alive. His blood was abandoning him. Running to the floor. Running for freedom. If only the rest of Jack could as well.

Pitch circled to the front of Jack. He was a sight to behold. Blood was splayed all over his front; on his face, robes and hands. With a malicious grin Pitch examined his fingernails, hypnotized by the way Jack's blood reflected the flickering torch light. 'What does it taste like, I wonder?' Not able to resist any longer he brought his fingers to mouth and his tongue swept over the scarlet droplets. 'Hmm... Copper and pine and fresh snow... It's warm. Strange that a winter spirit would have warm blood.' "You taste wonderful Jackie. Want to try?"

Before Jack could react, Pitch stuck his hand in Jack's mouth. Revulsion. Pure disgust was all Jack could feel as he was forced to taste his own life force. Before the shock could fully wear off, the sticky fingers were removed. Lucky for Pitch or he would have lost those digits.

"You look magnificent, except your hair. It's too pure. Needs some color don't you think?"

Knowing where the next strike was to come Jack poured his fading strength into putting his half forgotten plan into action. 'Armor. I need a helmet.' Just as Pitch was bringing down a dark, glittering club at the side of Jack's head ice spread on the intended target half forming a helmet before it was shattered. Jack's head snapped to the side from the force of the blow. The blow had been softened but still resulted in massive whiplash.

"Clever Jackie Boy. Using your head now are we? Too bad it won't be enough."

Jack was loosing consciousness again. Blood loss and blunt force trauma to the head was not a good combination. As his vision was fading he barely registered the fact that the club was coming down again and this time connected with his skull at full force.

A/N Yay! I have one review per chapter! Thank you so much for following. I will be trying to comply with requests to make the chapters longer. Why is that so hard?