Hi guys! I know, sad chapter in the beginning, right? But it was necessary to set the stage. I hope you guys all had good weekends. I did too. Thank you for all the reviews I received. I wouldn't be the writer I am today without them!

Just to let you guys know, this is going to be a very dramatic story. It's only going to get so bad, but I'm rating it T, just in case.

Anyway, have a nice night!

The lights are out. The children are sleeping. Pitch Black was creeping. Same old same old.

It had taken him just shy of a year to regain his powers and a little bit longer for him to be able to get out of his cave. The first night he'd stumbled out of his lair and felt the cool breeze on his face, rather than the dank, stale air of his underground home, Pitch Black spun around and let out a whoop of joy.

"I'm free!" He shouted, calling his nightmare Onyx to him. The shadow-horse came barreling out of the cave and Pitch leaped onto his back, just to feel the thrill of flying again.

"This time, the world will be mine!" He shouted as Onyx raced through the air. "Do you hear me, Guardians? The Boogeyman is BACK!"

Then his horse slammed into a jumbo billboard and Pitch found himself being forcibly tossed through the air where he landed in an undignified heap.

"As soon as I mend these blasted broken bones."

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

After that, the Boogeyman decided to keep a low profile. He spread a few nightmares around Burgess, and the rest of the world, but he never ventured out of his cave until the daylight had completely faded. He also refused to ride Onyx anymore until the Nightmare had had an eye exam.

The lack of nightmares in Burgess, helped, no doubt, by Sanderson, was something that irritated Pitch greatly, so every evening, instead of just sending the Nightmares to go take care of them, Pitch visited each bedroom and checked each nightmare individually, to make sure that it wasn't in any way happy or nice.

Pitch was currently in the bedroom of a ten-year-old named Elizabeth who was scared of snakes.

He watched the little girl's nightmare grow stronger and take hold of her. The glittering black orb above her head told him that she was in the middle of a snake pit at a zoo, and the scaly, loathsome creatures were surrounding her. There were several species even Pitch didn't recognize, and there were some he did. The girl's nightmare seemed to be herpatologically correct, at any rate. The snakes that surrounded her were all poisonous and they all had a lightning-quick strike. She just stood there surrounded by the slithering beasts.

Pitch Black loved snakes. They were so easy to slip into someone's sock or shoe. And they made great birthday presents! Pitch sucked in the child's fear like a hot drink and smiled. Delicious. Then he looked back at the child's nightmare and decided to give her a real fright.

Elizabeth didn't hate snakes. She actually loved them. so why was she having a nightmare about them? Oh yes, because she was afraid of them. Snakes, drowning, being kidnapped, thieves, monsters, horses, spiders, ghosts, and a thousand other things besides. But mostly snakes.

Her fear of snakes had originated when she'd gone to the bathroom in her cousin Bert's house in Florida. It had been about three years since that had happened. Before that, she'd loved snakes and hadn't feared them. Now, if someone even made a hissing sound she would shriek until she was hoarse. The snake she'd found was a huge one, and it had been crawling up the toilet pipe. She'd gone to sit down and received a very painful and quick bite in the rear end. She'd been six at the time.

Something like that could really traumatize a little girl and she hadn't seen a snake without shrieking since.

Elizabeth tried to run, but they'd corralled her into a corner. "Go away!" She screamed. The snakes hissed and she instinctively whimper, crouching as far down as she could.

The snakes hissed again and this time it sounded like laughter.

"G- go aw- way!" She whimpered weakly. She couldn't stand it. Her fear was growing by the second.

Suddenly the snakes all backed away and Elizabeth felt something cold touch her arm. She turned around and screamed.

There was a giant Asp right behind her. It's eyes were huge and it's fangs glistened with black poison. it's body was thicker than five of her and it's head looked like a giant spade, swaying back and forth, back and forth. It was hypnotic.

On some lever, she knew what it was going. Trying to hypnotize her so it could eat her alive. She tried to fight it.

"it's just a dream. It's just a dream." She muttered weakly.

The snake opened it's mouth and laughed in a human voice. A silky, horrible voice that made shivers run up and down her spine.
"Oh, isssssss it?" The snake asked.

She tried to answer, but the asp had her in it's coils. "Nighty-night, Elissssssabeth." The snake hissed. She screamed again and the giant snake lunged. Then the nightmare ended and she woke up screaming.

Pitch pulled out of the little girl's nightmare right before the snake struck and he had an evil glint in his eye. "That was wonderful!" He murmured as he shifted out of corporeal form and into his shadow-stage, so that he could be unseen and also watch the aftermath of his little trick.

The parents came in a few minutes later and she was still screaming.

They tried to console their screaming daughter and Pitch left her room, laughing quietly. Oh, how good it felt to feed on her fear. Absolutely delectable. Pitch was about to head for home, (caves,) when he felt another very dark dream happening on the other side of the street. It was very powerful.

Pitch lifted his head and sniffed. The scent of fear filled his nostrils and he sighed. This was what he lived for. Causing fear and terror, everywhere he went. He followed the scent like a bloodhound on the trail and eventually came to a small house on the end of the street with a small flickering light on in the upper left window. Pitch let out a contented sigh and floated up to that window, peeking in to see who was having the pretty little nightmare.

It was a little girl. He could tell that right away by the long strands of black hair that lay on her pillow. Her back was to him, but he could see her skin was white and she was trembling.

"Ooh, one of those nightmares. Wonderful!" Pitch said as he slipped through the window in shadow-shape, slithering across the room like the serpents he'd slipped into little Elizabeth's dream. He came to rest, standing over the little girl on the opposite side of the bed. He was right. Her face was very white and her eyes were squeezed shut against the Nightmare.

"Oh, how beautiful," Pitch whispered. And he wasn't talking about the girl. The nightmare took shape inside the black orb he creates simply by passing his hand over her head. Another animal nightmare. Spiders this time. The girl was in a tiny room that was crawling with the creatures, and they were getting closer and closer to her.

"Spiders. Interesting. Let's see how you like these little Arachnids," Pitch said, dancing his thin fingers over her nightmare orb. When his fingers touched the nightmare, spiders began to pour into it like a sea. Big ones, little ones. Poisons ones and daddy-long-legs. Tropical spiders and spiders as big as hubcaps! Spiders with yellow coloring, spiders with black. Black widows, hairy spiders, they were all there. They were surrounding the little girl. Spinning, biting, clicking their fangs. Her fear was delectable.

Inside her nightmare, Illana Morgan was screaming her head off.

Why? Why had her wonderful dream about running in a marathon turned to spiders? Why was it always spiders?

She was in a big dark room. Everything was black, and she couldn't see. She was sitting down, up against a corner, and her skin was covered in goosebumps.

"Let it end," She murmured. "Let it end, please. I'm scared." She closed her eyes, not that it made any difference, and clasped her hands together. She prayed, just like her momma had prayed when she'd gone into the hospital. She prayed that this Nightmare would end. Then, she felt a skitter across her leg. She screamed and tried to stand up, but her legs wouldn't support her.

"Go away!" She screamed, trying to move away from the corner by crawling, but her hands met something hairy and big and she snatched them back with a squeak. "Go away!" She yelled, kicking out. Her foot met something hairy and she heard an angry hissing right next to her. Then, in a flash, they were on her. Crawling all over her skin, hissing and spinning webs all over her. She thrashed and tried to scream, but the spiders crawled inside her mouth and spun webs that stuck her mouth together. she could feel a few crawling down her throat and she tried to hack out a cough, but she couldn't breath. They were sucking the very air out of her room.

The webs in her throat didn't help either. She tried to scream and open her eyes, but spiders were crawling up onto her face and spinning webs over them. She thrashed, but her whole body was covered in the creatures and they were spinning her around like she was in a tornado, only instead of winds, they were spinning webs that would become her tomb.

"Wonderful." Pitch said again, laughing as the tide of eight-legged creatures engulfed her. Her fear was growing. She tossed and turned in her sleep, whimpering and crying. Pitch could see welts and bruised begin to form on the child in the dream's skin. It was then that be decided to stop. Pure terror was all well and good, but he didn't want to-

Suddenly the little girl's eyes flew open and she stared at Pitch, who was frozen over her bed. His mind raced. What was he going to do? Did she see him? Maybe he could slip out of there and not even be noticed. He'd done it many times before. Then he saw the look on her face. It was one of ultimate fear. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open in a silent scream.

Pitch saw something behind those eyes that were frozen in fear. He saw a glimmer of pain and it made him feel guilty. He never wanted to truly hurt the children. He just wanted to scare them a bit. She held his gaze for one second, then two, then she whispered something before her eyes closed and her hair became completely white.

Pitch jumped back, shielding his eyes. The white was so brilliant that it reminded him of Jack Frost. But, what had happened? Why had she-

And then he realized it. He stared down at the girl, his mouth open in horror. This girl was dead. He'd killed her. He'd murdered a child!

"Oh no." He said, his eclipse eyes wide and fearful. No, this wasn't right! He didn't kill children! He only scared them. Since when was fear enough to kill?

It was enough for Sanderson. His mind told him. "Shut up!" He said angrily. "Shut up! I need to think." He paced around the room. For some reason, his eyes kept being drawn to her shock-white hair. It had been so black a moment ago.

"How could I have done this!" He said, forgetting his anger. He knelt beside her bed and lifted the little girl's eyelid. Nothing. Not a glimmer. Not a flicker of life. She was dead. "How could I have done this?!" Pitch said again. This time his voice was full of anguish. He was breaking down. He'd never gone this far! Never! He stared down at the little girl and her fear, so delicious to him only minutes before, now repulsed him.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps out on the landing.

"Anna? Are you alright?"

Pitch recoiled at the noise. His eclipse eyes were wide with- What? Fear? No, he didn't feel fear. Anger? At himself, maybe. Worry? Possibly. He staggered back into the shadows and stood there, staring at the white-haired child. How could he have done such a thing?

Pitch heard more footsteps, right outside the door and a voice. "Anna? Can I come in sweetie?"

Pitch's face completely drained of all color. Her mother. that's who it was. It couldn't possibly be anyone else. She would come in and see her dead child, and then. . .

Pitch didn't know what. He didn't know what to do. His grey hands were sweating, which he found to be very annoying and he wiped them on his robe, trying to think. What am I going to do? He thought anxiously. He knew that the penalty for killing a child for the Guardians was banishment, but he wasn't a Guardian! Would his immortality be removed? Would they hunt him down and catch him like a fox? Would they kill him?

He was so agitated and focused on his thoughts about the repercussions of his actions that he didn't hear or even see the shadowy figure looming behind him.

"Pitch?" A deep baritone voice said behind him.

Pitch whirled around to see a tall figure in a black cloak, holding a scythe over his shoulder and a pair of black raven wings unfurling from his back standing right behind him.

"Thanatos." He gulped. He should've known Thanatos would show up. It was his duty, after all.

The figure stepped closer. "Yes. It's been a long time." His voice was like the beat of a drum. Slow, rhythmical, and at the same time completely chilling.

Pitch nodded, his eyes flitting from the bed to the hood over Thanatos's face. If there was one spirit, besides Sanderson, that he feared, it was the Grim Reaper.

Thanatos caught his gaze and he looked over at the bed. "Well, You've done it again, Pitch." He said, letting out a deep moan that Pitch assumed was a sigh.

Pitch closed his eyes, trying to quell the fear that was building up inside him. Not that he didn't have a good reason to be afraid. Not only did Thanatos, the literal god of death, have power over the lives and deaths of every single being on the planet, but he also had the power to take away immortality, from anyone. He was the only one, apart from the Man in the Moon, who had this power. Adding on that he was considerably older than MiM, about as old as time itself, and you can see why Pitch was completely terrified of him.

"This isn't my fault," He began, trying to regain his composure.

"Of course it isn't." Thanatos said, moving past Pitch and over to the child, (Anna?)'s bed. "Just like it wasn't your fault in Montreal, or Italy, or Phoenix."

Pitch cringed. The Reaper was naming places he'd been in the past. Places he'd been, and the homes of people he'd killed.

"Yes, but-"

"Do you realize how serious this is?" Thanatos asked, turning to look at him. Or at least, his hood turned in Pitch's direction. His voice was still calm, but Pitch could hear the anger in it. "This isn't some drunk, passed out on the streets. This isn't an old man, dying of cancer in a hospital. This is a child." His voice was slow and steady, with an undefinable accent lacing the edges of his words. Something old, and powerful.

"You think I don't KNOW that?!" Pitch said angrily, turning away from Thanatos. His eyes were clenched shut and his hands were balled into fists. His mind was racing. This was different from the other times. Then, it had been adults. Now. . .

"You know I can't cover for you this time, Pitch." The Reaper said. His voice, though low and threatening, now retained an undertone of pity.

"I know," Pitch whispered. His hands slackened and he opened his eyes slowly. He could feel his anger ebbing away, to be replaced by shame. "I didn't think. I couldn't-"

"A heart failure." Thanatos interrupted.

Pitch turned around, frowning. "What?"

"That is how she died. A heart failure. She went into the hospital a month ago to get a pace-maker installed. I was there. She nearly died, but the doctors were able to revive her. The fear you gave her put her pace-maker in warp drive and her heart couldn't take it."

Pitch closed his eyes and moaned. A pace-maker. That explained it. He'd given her too much fear, and it had overloaded her heart. She'd been scared to death.

"Are you going to-" Pitch began, but the dark spirit interrupted him.

"That... is none of your concern," Thanatos said sharply, causing Pitch to flinch. "I will do my job. You, however, cannot stay here, in this city. You must go."

Pitch stared at Thanatos. "Go? Why?"

Thanatos, who had been bent over the child's bed, examining her carefully, snapped up and stared at him coldly from under his thick black hood. Pitch could see the tiny pinpricks of red fire that were The Grim Reaper's eyes, glowing bright with anger, deep within the hood.

"Why?" Thanatos said, and the very air in the room seemed to stop.

Pitch gulped and took a step back. "Thanatos, I-"

"Why?" Thanatos asked again. "Because you've just killed a child, Pitch Black. There will be spirits out for your head now, and not just the Guardians."

Pitch froze. "W- what do you mean?" He said, trying to stop quivering in terror.

Thanatos advanced on him. "In all history, there has never been the taking of a child's life by a spirit. Ever. I should know. I've been around since before spirits existed."

Pitch tried to back up, but he hit the wall and when he tried to phase through it, Thanatos chuckled. "Oh, you're not going anywhere." He said, taking another step towards him.

Pitch's face drained of what color it had left and he stared, completely terrified, at the Grim Reaper.

"Not until I've had my say," Thanatos continued. "And Pitch, don't look so scared. I'm not one of the ones out for your head."

Pitch let out a sigh of relief, which petered out when Thanatos continued. "Yet. You've done a very stupid and very dangerous thing here, Pitch. All of us felt it. I felt it, and I'm sure the Guardians felt it too."

Pitch would've groaned, but he was too scared. Something about the spirit before him seemed to radiate fear, more so that even he did!

"As you very well know, the punishment for a Guardian's killing a child is banishment. For you, I think they will make it a little worse." Thanatos paused, then said the very thing Pitch had been dreading. "They'll take your powers, Pitch. And your immortality. You'll be branded a traitor, and I literally mean branded."

Pitch could almost feel the hot iron stabbing into the back of his hand now, and the one thought that kept racing through his mind was, How could I have done that?

Thanatos backed up a foot and said slowly, "I have no doubt you deserve your fate, Pitch. You deserve it a thousand times over for what you have done."

Pitch flinched. Now he was cowering against the wall, looking everywhere but at the Grim Reaper's hood. He knew that he deserved it. He deserved the pain he'd inflicted on others. What goes around comes around.

"I just want to say this: If you are smart, you'll go into hiding. And not just in those cold caves you call a lair. I mean, hiding. The only way for you to escape the wrath of every single spirit on the face of this earth it to dissapear off the face of this earth."

Thanatos's words seemed to snap Pitch out of his cowering trance. He blinked. The fear was still there but he could think coherently now, and he had no idea what Thanatos was saying. Disappear? How? He couldn't just jump on a rocket ship headed for Jupiter.

"I can't." He finally said in a husky voice. "I can't leave. They'll find me, wherever I go."

Thanatos laughed. It was like the rumbling of clouds and the sound before an avalanche. "Then you are dead, Pitch Black. Just... like... her."

Pitch turned then and, with one last look at the white-haired girl, fled.