The images resembled nothing more than terribly drawn ink pictures. Though the Guardians didn't have too much difficulty in deducing who was who in the drawing. Yet, they began to grow more real as Fable read her accounts. Jack found himself enraptured by her words, her descriptions. The sketches that floated above the book grew more realistic, and a setting of forest accompanied them. The other Guardians were looking around; the five were captured in Fable's tale. "He is a strange creature, his temperament is hard to gage, but nevertheless we are all we have. The moon still refuses to speak to me; Pitch says he will probably never speak to either of us."

It appeared to be night, and before the Guardians was a fire, embers blazed into the blackened skies, the smoke shushing out the light of the stars. Before the fire, sat a woman dressed in a simple brown dress and a faded traveling cloak. Her face seemed to be consumed by a mane of leather brown curls, which stuck out from the hood of her cloak. "I'll admit, Pitch still makes me nervous, I've confronted him on the matter, but he says that it is simply part of his being, he is fear embodied after all. But I must speak plainly; it is not his presence that puts me on edge. There are times where he has reduced me to small mouse, hiding in the brush, cowering for fear of death in the talons of an owl."

The brightness of the flames began to dim, as if consumed by some impending darkness. Jack felt his breath catch in his throat, Pitch stepped into the light. His needle point teeth bared in an attempted kind smile, his eyes, so bright in their yellow hues, yet so cold. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Frost looked up to find North watching the scene unfold, almost horrified. Jack didn't understand until he noticed a creature that followed Pitch into the light of the fire. Which had become almost none existent, as if the monster at the Boogeyman's back was an absence of light. "Pitch came from the forest tonight, after getting his fill of fear from a village close by. Everything was normal, but he was accompanied by heathen shade. So dark, it snuffed out the fire, so cold it made my hands shivered and my teeth chattered. The creature stayed at his side and remains right now, watching me like a starved beast. Pitch is drawing his power from it, like he does with the fears of the children he encounters. In the face of this particular fear, those felt by children are made foolish."

Pitch took a seat opposite Fable, he smiled at her. She didn't return it; she only had wary eyes for the monster. In that moment, Jack realized how terrified Fable must have been at that moment. Looking upon the shade, he understood, the thing had no constant form. It shifted; its lack of a face was eerie, made it far more threatening than that the horses that Pitch had been so fond of when Jack first met him. At times, it would talk despite there being no mouth. Other times it would shriek and scream at random, causing the younger Fable to shudder. "I questioned Pitch endlessly about the origins of his…companion. It took hours of prodding and appealing to his arrogance. At last, he explained that the fear came from a girl on the verge of womanhood. A girl who was married off at the age of twelve to a man who was practically older than her father, a man who… forced himself on her every night."

For a moment, the Guardians saw the image flicker, catching the sight of the present Fable. She was found trembling, but the sight of her was gone as quick as it had come. Now the Guardians found themselves standing at the edge of a village. Fable stood apart from them, attention focused on a teenager who was carrying wood, her hands blistered, her face kissed with black and blues, her steps composed of stumbling, shoulders low, head bowed in sorrow. "Pitch explained that soul of a broken child better yet, a broken youth is the kind that holds the most potent fears, the 'most delicious' were his choice of words. Charlotte, the girl, he fed off of, feared shaming her family, feared her husband, feared her priest, feared her own bodily weakness, and feared that the next beating would kill her yet to born child. Even I could smell it on her, see it on her. That faceless mass of consuming and shifting darkness followed her, and Pitch was at his strongest when it accompanied him while we stayed at the child's village."

The scene melted, smearing the image of Fable observing Charlotte. There was a snap, and it was gone. Leaving the Guardians speechless and the storyteller haunted. Shaking her head, Fable shoved her journal back into her pack. "It was the only time Pitch fed off the fears of unfortunates like that, at least in my presence. After parting ways with him, I went back to the village, the girl had killed herself. I know this because they buried her outside the graveyard."

Bunnymund was the first to speak after a long and uncomfortable silence. "Sheila, I…"

Taking a breath, Fable replied. "I don't deserve your sympathy, I should have done something when I saw her and I didn't."

Tooth was practically in tears now. "How could you not…"

The storyteller closed her eyes. "Drop it."

There was silence. In that moment, Fable was completely gone from the Guardians. Her eyes glassed over, and her lips reduced to a very thin line. Jack understood now, Fable hated herself for not doing anything, telling this story was literally tearing her down. He found himself pitying her, and felt the urge to try and comfort her. Yet he knew that she wouldn't give him that. "The point is that Charlotte is not the only one whose fears are of that caliber. I've met many children and teenagers with fear that could easily make a dwarf out of the terror that she felt. Pitch didn't just stop feeding off children like Charlotte for my benefit; he was never that considerate of others. No, he stopped because to tame those nightmares and fears required a lot time and work that he hadn't the patience for. He has had years to gain knowledge in how to wield such nightmarish things, and if he is visiting the rooms of teenagers, it means that he is making weapons that will be far more frightening and dangerous than what he had before."

Her words left the Guardians in shock; in fact the workshop had gone completely quiet as if every elf and yeti were listening. Even the Baby teeth had ceased their squeaks and flitting.

Turning, Fable leaned forward, resting her hands on the control panel of the Globe, her head dropped. "What's worse is that the children he is targeting are at the age where it is almost impossible for them to believe in saviors made up of creatures they think are beings of lore and childish fantasy."

Author's Note: So, here is Pitch's new plan of attack. Fable is really becoming a tragic character isn't she? Hope it works for you, I always tend to make kid's media very dark. Warning, they may be blood, and there may be torture. Anyway, I saw Wreck-It Ralph today (looooved it), and Rise of the Guardians (love it even more than the first time I saw it), and Le Miserables (AMAZING STUFF!). I am also going back to school next Monday, so updates may start becoming fewer, but I will make sure I post at least once a week if I can. So, review and tell me what you think!