Joud914 - watch out cookie cupboard...
How are my lecturers making out that we're a month behind when we haven't been in uni for a month yet (someone save me)
"Tell me, Jack. Did you get everything you wished for? Your beloved family with the guardians?" Pitch sneered at the defeated spirit lying on the ground, crimson blood pooling around him. Broken pieces of wood lay in the dirt surrounding him, an inky black scythe protruding from his back, staining his blue jumper. "Where are they now, Jack?"
Words attempted to escape his mouth, but all that sounded was a pained groan. The red liquid tricked down his chin, joining the spill below him. His nails clawed in the dirt as he writhed in pain - every muscle and joint was in agony, fire raging through his system with every breath he took. The Nightmare King just stared at him, an emotion somewhat akin to pity ringing within his golden eyes.
"What a waste. To think, we could be partners right now, ruling the world. Yet you gave me up for them," he spoke the word as though it were venom on his tongue. "And look where it left you."
He needed to get up, needed to fight. But he couldn't. His body was weighing him down, begging with every ounce of his being that he just stop, give in; rest. Try as he did to ward off the stars in his vision, he had no fight left. Lights and shadows around him began to fade into one, Pitch's words ringing in his head.
It was all he could do to lift his head to the man before him, a defiant gleam in his eyes that said 'You will not win'. But he knew as his pain eased and his senses numbed that he would not be part of that battle. With one last shivering breath, darkness filled his vision and his head fell limply to the ground. Silence abruptly filled the clearing, branches shuddering as the winter spirit took his last breath.
Pitch sighed; he hadn't wanted it to come to this. As much as he hated to admit it, he vaguely liked the winter spirit and knew the two would make a formidable pair. It was a shame this had to be the outcome, but Pitch persuaded himself that it wasn't his fault. The boy had denied them both of their right. What other choice did he have?
He would sit in the shadows no longer.
He would take the power from the Guardians, with or without the Winter Spirit. Last time had been a minor setback, this time he would not accept being shunned to the sidelines yet again. It was only a shame that it had come to this.
The Moon shone brightly in the vast night sky, but it could do nothing to help the white-haired boy as his lifeless form was dragged away by a hoard of nightmares, a scarlet trail following him into the depths of the Boogeyman's lair. Pitch spared a passing glance at the glowing light in the sky.
"You really thought you could stop me?" He raised his arms, hundreds of shadow figures forming behind him looking every bit just as evil as the glint in the madman's eyes.
The Moon appeared to dull, only ever so slightly; as though sighing in defeat, but the seemingly insignificant change to anyone else was not lost on the man in black.
"That's what I thought." Pitch retorted smugly, filling the gaps in the trees with thick shadow with a simple flick of his hand, putting an end to the Moon's light. One singular thought took place in his mind.
He would not lose this time.
Dead leaves crumpled underfoot as the Boogie Man made his way back to the depths of the underground, black cloak flowing eerily behind him. Shadows snaked outwards from its hem like vicious vines lurching towards prey, covering the ground in a vast abyss of darkness. Specks of blood littering the ash of the earth disappeared under the trance of the night.
All that remained was the deafening sound of the silence.
Short but sweet :)