I gotta quickly put this up because this thunderstorm outside is wicked awesome. Hopefully the lightning won't cut the power. Before I continue I just gotta say one thing that's got good news and bad news. I'll get the bad news out of the way. Originally I was going to put up a fanfic of Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, but I feel like I shouldn't. It's kind of hard to explain, but I don't feel obligated to write about the Lakota Sioux tribe without knowing what they struggle with now or be involved with the tribe. I'm not of that origin, and I'm okay with that. There are readers all over the country and all over this world and the last thing I want to do is write about something I don't know, because to me, that's unethical. You don't just randomly write about something like the Armenian Genocide when you have no historical facts, knowledge, personal relations and those you can go to for questions. You need to know what you're writing. That's why J.K. Rowling based the Harry Potter books in England, that's why most locations in Stephen King's novels were Maine (and that's a state I'm very familiar with). No matter how much I love and respect the culture and Native people, I have no right to write about them, even if it's a fanfiction of a movie. I hope you understand and support me on this.

But on the bright side, I've got a fanfic to replace it, and it'll be up to you what the final fanfiction will be before college starts. :) Hopefully that makes you happy. It'll be a poll on my profile.

Without further ado, here's the 26th chapter. Enjoy. And thank you, once more.

Chapter 26

She wasn't always in the form of a child. Long ago, before humans even had the sheer idea of electricity or other worlds, Misery was one of the most powerful spirits along with myself and Death. Back then, when medicine was scarce and medical knowledge was being mistaken for witchcraft and shunned, every human suffered the most from her and Death. We worked in the night, scarcely in the day. I would terrorize them in their nightmares, Misery would haunt their very thoughts, and sometimes the misery she would bestow would lead them to their death. Grim never liked what he called 'crutches', and I didn't like how Misery would feed off of my prey after me. She was a stalker, and I knew-everyone did-she wanted for me to bestow the gift of darkness to her.

She used to be in her own body that she passed in, a young and quite honestly beautiful woman no more than eighteen years old. No one knew of her death besides herself and another spirit who kept herself hidden. Misery would twist and manipulate the truth to the point no one would ask and care anymore, since she wouldn't bother telling her death. If spirits like myself, Jack Frost and Misery died and became us, the death could explain everything about them. My death told of the dedication I had for my family, but the foolishness in believing that the dark could be trusted. Jack's death told of his love for his sister, and his recklessness as a teenager that he so precariously balanced on a string. Misery...well, it's a difficult subject.

She used to have such long hair, blue as it was now. It was like the color of tears, and her skin was so white it was close to borderline silver. Her eyes used to glow a pale aqua as well, almost in the appearance of the tears of the victims she preyed on. Always wore that superior, arrogant smile, too.

But then a war broke out between spirits and Guardians. By then, the Guardians only consisted of Sandy, North and Bunny. Tooth wasn't even a mere thought, and Jack didn't exist at all. The war started after Cupid's sentencing, when he was forced to give up his immortality and force his firstborn to take his immortal namesake, even if he didn't want to. So many spirits were angry with the Elders, believing that Cupid was innocent and that love should be unconditional, not just limiting to those who aren't human. Disagreements broke into violence, and the first one to strike was Misery herself. She hated Cupid, so of course she would side against him. The Elders didn't listen to her, nor wanted her support. So she attacked both sides. She nearly destroyed the entire society of spirits, killing off the faeries Mother Nature had as her children, killing humans as they wept, and purposefully targeting young spirits.

She was mad. Grim had no choice but to destroy her body, but her spirit was still intact. You cannot fully kill a spirit. Only Man in Moon had that power.

That war...I avoided it like the plague. Many of the good spirits grew furious with us "dark" ones, like myself, Misery, Grim, you name it. I hid away in my lair from searching eyes and murderous thoughts. Though miles underground, I could hear the war overhead. Angry screaming, thunder, the ground shaking...I still shudder at the memory of just watching from the distance.

Not like I wanted to participate. I was just defeated, weakened, by the Guardians. It was my first war against them. The second would come five hundred years later, after Tooth would be initiated into the group and Jack would be a new spirit.

Everyone knew she wanted to be looked up to, and not in a family or loving kind of way. She wanted to be superior. Because I held a noble title, she sought for me. Ever since her existence was created, she would hunt me down during my lowest moments and try to bring me to a breaking point. She thought that if she broke me, I would make her a princess, or a queen of nightmares.

Yeah, like that would ever happen.

Once her original body died, she found a younger vessel to use. A younger girl in the colonial times just died from a sickness by the time she found her body, and before Grim could take her away into the light world, Misery took her body for her own use. Though the soul of that innocent child before was gone, the child suffered...Everyone heard a soul far away scream in agony and distress at the sudden intrusion at another spirit.

But...by the time the truce was made, the Elders made the worst decision they could possible make.

They ordered for us to ignore her. Treat her like a child, now that she was in the body of one. Put her in her place, and don't be afraid to defend yourself if she attacks.

I didn't listen to them. I couldn't ignore her, because she continued to find me. She could smell my misery from miles away. I could be by the beach and she'd find me within minutes, when she originally stood in a forest forty seven miles from the beach. That's how strong she was...but she was weakening.

She was weakening because the more she used the vessel of the young child, the more her spirit drained. It was all black magic.

And that's what she was seeking now.

She walked through the woods, almost floating by how swift she was, until she stopped at a cluster of trees. A dim light flickered from inside the darkness of folded trees, acting much like a cave of branches and thorns. With a giggle, she skipped over to the hollow cave, bending her head over to peer inside until her silvery blue hair fell onto the grassy floor of the forest. A thin smile spread across her lips in pleasure.

"Hello, Hecate."

The shadow that sat inside the cave of branches and thorns looked up from underneath her wispy hood, a previous unamused frown turning into a smirk.

"Well, if it isn't Misery herself," the witch greeted, and flourished a hand in front of her and the small cauldron, "Please sit. I have missed socializing with you."

"As have I with you, Hecate," Misery gracefully landed on her knees, her white dress fluttering at the sudden rush.

Hecate pulled back her thin and worn hood to get a good look at the spirit in front of her. Hecate wasn't just any witch. She was The witch. The universal goddess of witchcraft, sorcery, the moon, magic and ghosts. Hecate was one of those spirits lots would avoid, only seeking her in dire situations. Like Mother Nature, Hecate didn't choose teams or followed the ways of good and evil. She often isolated herself, but if people of both mortals or spirits come for help, whether good or evil intentions, she'll grant it. By the Elder's view shared with the Guardians, she was a cruel spirit that had no remorse for her actions, that couldn't care less if her magic murdered humans or destroyed families. Knowing her, she would say she was keeping the balance between good and evil by committing both, but she wasn't. Like Misery, they shared an amusement on the suffering of others. They were like sisters.

Hecate's raven black, curled tresses fell from her head around her shoulders once her hood was down. Misery grinned, liking that her flaming red eyes still shone like the fires of Hell itself. She thought Hecate was the prettiest spirit of all, but certainly not as prettier as she was now.

"I see you've found yourself a new vessel...Cassandra." Hecate drawled, running a nimble finger against her red lips.

Indeed, Misery did. Hecate knew Misery's spirit would die if she didn't find a vessel that lived a longer life than the child form she once took. She almost looked like her old self, with her hair reaching the small of her back and just as tall as she once was, almost inches shorter than me. Her skin retained that silvery bluish hue, and her eyes stayed just as scarily pale as usual. Still, her voice sounded like a child's. That's what made her creepy, a spirit worth fearing.

I hated her for how she was. I was the King of Nightmares, the Bringer of Fear, the Boogeyman. Yet more people feared her than me. I hated her so much. I still do.

Hecate was the only one that knew of Misery's real death, and it was one that once we all learned it, it almost made us pity her. It almost made every single spirit, even the heartless Grim himself, wince and believe she had some sort of right to act like that. Her life as a human was miserable as ever. She was born into aristocracy, or at least the lowest form of it. Her father, without consent of herself and her mother, even her eldest brother, betrothed her to a duke at the age of eighteen. The reasoning behind him was to gain status. But Misery, of course, had to fall in love with the duke. Though the duke was well over thirty-as it was not considered taboo as it is now-he agreed to the marriage immediately. But Misery's daydreams grew sour once the wedding day grew closer. The duke only agreed to get closer to her mother, who at the time was going to go through a divorce with Misery's father. And although knowing he was betrothed to her daughter, she craved him as well.

It's a disgusting story, one that would make anyone want to spit on the ground and sneer in distaste. It certainly became just that when Misery found her mother and her future husband in her own bedroom, fooling around. Heartbroken, she ran to her father to end the marriage, but he refused. Knowing his wife betrayed him didn't bother him the slightest, at least in Misery's eyes. But sure enough, it angered her father. Wrath of pure evil grew in her father, and days before the wedding, he murdered her mother.

Misery tried running away, tried escaping the absolute suffering she had to endure, but the duke tracked her down. He blamed her for the death of his lover, for she was the one who told her father in the first place. Once he found her, he kidnapped her, knocked her unconscious...did unspeakable things to her.

She woke up as the new embodiment of Misery, not hearing Man in Moon's voice besides her new title. She woke up aching, bruised and hurt. She woke up filled with hatred, and wished foulness on everyone in existence for her own misery.

"What brings you here now, little dove?" Hecate asked softly, touching Misery's forehead with her index finger.

Misery smirked, closing her eyes at the frigid cold touch of Hecate before opening her eyes, "I vowed revenge on someone, and I know this revenge will be the end of me."

"Aye," Hecate closed her eyes slowly, removing her finger from Misery's forehead, "I can sense it. Your spirit is dying. You will not survive soon, but I know what you seek."

"Pitch." they both said in unison.

Misery giggled, shifting her sitting position so she was cross legged and sitting up straighter, more dignified like a ruthless queen. "Pitch now devoted the rest of his life to a meager, meaningless human named Alice and her little sister. I want revenge on him for his hatred against me."

"Alice would be a good target. Do you seek to curse her?" Hecate continued running her finger against her red lips.

Misery shook her head, her silver blue tresses fluttering with the cold breeze, "No. At first I thought she would make the perfect target, since she is his love and he is crazy about her."

"Crazy." Hecate nodded in agreement, glancing at her spellbook next to her. Oh, the sheer collections of spells she could use in this situation. So many to choose from!

"But there's someone who poses a much greater weakness, to both of them," Misery grinned maliciously, "It'll both damage Pitch and Alice badly. The price is...deathly, too." she ended with a giggle.

Hecate smirked, "Who then? A Guardian?"

Misery shook her head, "No...her sister."

Hecate paused. Misery meant a lot to her, and she considered her a sister in a way. They related on many boundaries, but...now that Misery wanted to destroy a sisterhood that reminded her of their own made her not want to continue this dark deed. Normally her magic wouldn't phase her at all if it destroyed lives or relationships. But that Misery was targeting the half of a sisterhood...a bitterness grew in her mouth.

Still, she swore to the very fabric of reality that she must do the bidding to those who come to her, evil and good together. Misery was the latter.

With a sigh, hiding the clear emotion of disappointment in her choice, she opened her spell book and flipped a couple of pages, scanning down for the certain formula she needed.

"You do realize...that not only will Pitch track you down for this, but so will the Guardians and her Devout? Pitch will see to your final breath, and make you suffer."

"He'll suffer more than I do. I don't care of the punishment, I want what I want." Misery's voice was tinged with urgency. This needed to get done before the glare of the moon could find her and stop her.

"Fine...so mote it be," Hecate's voice echoed with the wind of the forest.

She drew out a dagger, the handle made of what looked like moonstone and ebony. She pricked her thumb and dropped three drops of blood into the cauldron, and then bidded for Misery to do the same. Once Misery's blood followed, she cleaned the blade with a blessed cloth and dropped the dagger into the bloody water that now turned pitch black in color. Following that were handfuls of crushed herbs, gemstones and bones that she broke in half. She plucked a feather from a crow that sat nearby and stripped it until all that remained of the feather was the stick itself, and dropped the tiny feather bits into the cauldron. Stirring counterclockwise, it glowed a bloody red, and then a dark blue.

Misery oohed at the mixture returning to it's crystal clear, water state. Hecate drew out the dagger, now glimmering with the same bluish hue as Misery's eyes and dripped with blue potion.

"This blade will kill only one person, and that would be the sister herself. Anyone who gets stabbed by this besides her will immediately be healed. Be wise to spare it, because once it strikes its prey...doom will fall onto the murderer. A doom that cannot be undone."

Hecate felt something inside her change. Knowing that Misery was going to seek revenge by killing a woman's little sister, as well as psychologically and emotionally torture the King of Nightmares...changed her.

Misery was not the person she once knew.

So she kept the future from her. Misery's end would be the ultimate suffering...

One will die, one will sleep...and the breaker of the spell was not who Misery would think it would be.

Even after Misery left, keen on ideas on how to draw out Sadie in front of Alice and I, Hecate knew that was the worst she's ever done.

She vowed never to lend a helping hand to anyone again...good or bad.