A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long! School, basically. That is all. Leave reviews, tell me what you think! Thanks!
Chapter 5 – An Offer
When Jack regained consciousness, he found himself still drifting behind the endless dark of closed eyelids. The cold around him felt familiar, comforting; and for a moment he didn't recall the events of hours previous. The winter spirit got as far as snuggling his head back into the folds of his hoodie before remembering he was not perched on a snowy tree branch or rooftop. Jack's stomach lurched at this realization and his eyes shot open, a small gasp followed by several deep breaths escaping the winter spirit as he fought to calm his nerves while scanning his surroundings.
The light was dim, and the gentle ping, ping of dripping water could be heard in the distance. It echoed in the darkness, and Jack had no idea how large the room was, but from the way the slightest noise was amplified, he could take a guess.
With a slight groan from the soreness in his midsection, the winter spirit propped himself upright, squinting in an attempt to penetrate the expanse of the chasm. The floor beneath him was cold, and Jack wondered absently whether the chill emanated from him, or the environment itself; it was moist to the touch, a clammy surface that set unease reeling in the pit of Jack's stomach. Then one sickening thought shot him straight into a near panic.
My staff!
"Oh no," he breathed as he scrambled and groped the floor in the darkness in search of the familiar, knotted wood of his beloved shepherd's crook. "No, no, no no no."
Anxiety seeped from Jack's pores as he all but crawled across the dark, damp floor, keeping one hand outstretched and touching the wall and the other searching the ground, tapping and running along it in the hopes of brushing against the wood. He shot a couple of small bursts of glowing frost from his fingertips, and the floral patterns crept across the dark floor, the bioluminescent properties of the not-your-average frost he wielded coming in handy in the dark chamber. The swirls of ice hadn't spread more than a couple feet before Jack laid a hand on something solid; something solid other than the wall and floor. Hope rose and caught in his throat before dissipating as quickly as it had arisen when he crept closer and strained his eyes to see what his hand rested on.
They were a dark pair of boots, followed by black-clad legs and a shadowy robe that furled and unfurled as if it were made of smoke. Jack blinked before slowly raising his eyes to meet those that belonged to the creep that had stalked him out there in the forest. Great.
The dark spirit was staring down his nose at the white-haired boy, an amused expression flickering across his angular face before being replaced moments later with a bored, emotionless slate. In one of his hands was clutched Jack's staff. The winter spirit nearly felt sick to his stomach—his fate was no longer in his own hands, and the stranger knew it. What could he want from him, anyway? The shadow-clad man twirled the hooked end absentmindedly as if he meant to entice the boy, keeping what would probably be his liberation just out of his reach. He then carefully removed his feet out from under Jack's searching hands and, in one fluid motion, bent over to pluck the winter spirit effortlessly off the ground by his hood before he had a chance to protest.
"Hey, hey hey," Jack managed as he teetered unsteadily on his heels, long legs sore from being folded in a crouched position for…who knows how long. The whole thing was extremely shady, really. And now this guy had his staff, which was just awesome. Icing on the cake.
Jack was balanced by a shadowy hand-like tendril that gripped his collar long enough to steady him before releasing its hold on the frosty fabric. "I do appreciate the groveling but really, that isn't necessary," the dark spirit stated with a low chuckle.
Jack glared up at him, a light blue shade unnoticeable in the dark dusting his pale cheeks. "That's funny. Really, though. Who are you? Not to mention, how can you see me? Want to give me back my staff? Yeah, probably a stupid question…"
The man held up one grey hand to halt the flow of questions from the boy. "The Boogeyman, King of Nightmares, the monster under the bed…" he started, taking Jack's staff in both hands and examining the wood while turning it over slowly as if trying to read every crevice as he spoke. Jack's fingers twitched—his shepherd's crook had been practically a part of the winter spirit since the Man in the Moon had put him in the world. Jack's mind reeled at the thought of his staff in an enemy's hands- It could be broken, burned, or the spirit simply could refuse to give it back. Jack didn't know what would happen if his staff was destroyed, but his guess was it wouldn't be good. The boy shoved his uncomfortable thoughts aside for the moment as the man continued. "…those are only a few of the names I have been given over the millennia." He paused. "As for your first three inquiries, they will be answered at a…later date."
Jack snorted, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm sure."
"I simply wanted to propose an offer of…partnership, of sorts," Said the Boogeyman. Jack cocked his head, scratching at the back of his hair absentmindedly before replying. "If you just wanted to talk, was the huge shiny weapon really necessary?" The dark man shrugged, sharp mouth drawn up slightly in a sneer. Jack continued. "The offer; what if I refuse?"
The Boogeyman closed his eyes, sharp teeth showing a bit as he let out a chuckle. He then turned his attention back to Jack as he leaned in closer for emphasis, golden eyes boring into the small-framed boy before him. "It wouldn't be wise for you." Penetrating eyes swiveled back to the staff that was clenched in his ashen hands before returning to the winter spirit, whose already pale skin tone had lightened noticeably, making his face appear gaunt in the dim light. He smiled to himself, watching the boy's Adam's apple bob with nerves while he considered the threat in his words.
Jack didn't like it, not one bit, but as long as this guy had his staff…it was hardly a choice.