Welp, guess who is not dead?

Yeah, college has been occupying most of my time but I'm trying to practise my writing skills so I don't get rusty xS

Ok, here is this new piece. Last time we got some fluff, and now we're heading to the other side of the spectrum, where the guardians have lost a valuable member and drastic events develope along the way.

Disclaimer: I STILL OWN NOTHING

*** GIVE US A SOUL TO DEVOUR ***

Tooth was not sure she believed in gods or if such figures even existed. But from the moment the Guardians had defeated Pitch and Jack had decided to join them, she had prayed for this situation not to repeat again.

Every time she laid her head on her pillow, it was fixated at the back of her mind and it was certain it would stay with her till the end of her days. Losing Sandman had been horrible but this had destroyed her.

The same bas-reliefs etched on the stone floors of North's home with its respective depictions of them, the same heavy silence that surrounded the usually cheerful atmosphere like a heavy and thick blanket, and the same congregation with downcast eyes and forlorn expressions.

The elves - not running around or making any clatter now-, rang their little bells in a solemn and mournful tune. A requiem for a fallen hero.

The silence choked her, making her unable to say a few words of goodbye to the parting soul that had gathered all of them here.

It had been her. It had been her all over again. Another person had died while protecting her. First her parents, then Sandman, and now him.

'It's your fault. It's always been your fault' A little voice in her head went on and on.

Someone offered their hand in sign of comfort, but she did not return the gesture this time. She kept her empty gaze on the flickering light of the candle she had placed on the circle corresponding to the one of their deceased companion, tears still rolling down her face.

She didn't want to be touched or consoled.

Tooth wanted to rip the world apart, to tear Pitch Black's universe into pieces and burn it till there were no remains of it.

Because that was exactly what he had done to her.

Toothiana wasn't sure when she left the North Pole and her friends with their pointless attempts to make her feel better, but now she found herself flying into an abandoned wing of her palace.

'Sheila…'

Her fairies were not there. If they were tending to teeth-collecting duties or simply had hid themselves out of her sigh, she couldn't bring herself to care.

Very little mattered now.

'Tooth, no…'

With every step closer, she felt the anger grow and run through her blood until there was nothing else that fueled her. When arriving at her destination, not even the huge double doors stopped her pace. It was a large room, full of various objects and little trinkets she had valued as treasures, most of them now gathering dust.

She did not halt until she found what she was searching for.

'Toothy…'

They had not been used in a long time and had been abandoned when former peaceful times arrived, but she knew they would be of use to her one more time.

The voices inside her head squeezed themselves with glee as she felt her hand got reacquainted with the worn down metal of the hilt.

'Toothiana, please don't…'

Something on the floor caught her attention and was there when she noticed that a couple of her feathers had fallen to the ground on their own accord. She grabbed some of the feathers in her arm and gave the slightest of pulls. The bright feathers slowly fluttered to the ground. At the sight of the rather reddish tone of the bare skin patch, an unhinged laugh sprouted from deep within her.

'Don't do this.'

Her reflection in the smooth surface on her scimitars grinned back at her.

The flutter of wings had sent him running. His steps echoed against the stone walls and his breathing was ragged.

The centuries had never been entirely fair to the Nightmare King. His desire to create a world of fear and darkness had never truly come to fruition, and not only the guardians came into play in his feud against the Man in the Moon, but also he had added a new thorn on Pitch's side: Frost.

Not even his latest victory gave him any satisfaction now as he jumped from shadow to shadow to escape from the oncoming threat.

His nightmares and fearlings were of no help when a sharp pain slashed his shoulder and a swift kick sent him flying to the center of one of the main caverns of his lair. They kept themselves against the shadows, watching but never aiding their master.

They had abandoned him long ago. It had taken time to make them heed once more and they had truly made a wonderful job in one of his last assaults to the North Pole.

Now they were mere audience to his imminent fate.

Toothiana looked down, putting pressure on the handle of the sword that had pinned the Nightmare King and making sure to wiggle it around a bit before she retrieved it back to her sheath. She produced a dagger.

She was going to enjoy what would come next.

"Really?" Pitch Black taunted and spat blood. "All this for that pathetic flea-ridden vermin?"His limbs were pinned to the ground and the only thing he could do was stare at the feathered figure that stood in front of him, but he enjoyed when she grinded her teeth. "My, my, have I struck a nerve, your Highness?"

"You'll pay for what you did." She said as one of the scimitars rested against his cheek. With a flick of her wrist it nicked the skin, leaving a long yet shallow cut. Something inside her was pleased when the Nightmare King tried to repress a flinch.

"He was mine...and you took him from me." Her voice sounded hoarse, a strange combination between seething rage and deep sorrow. She made another nick on the other cheek.

Her smile grew more menacing

Yes, she was going to enjoy it.

Little by little, she dedicated to the gruesome task at hand. A cut here, another one there. Her viciousness only growing with each passing second.

"It's your fault." She spat out, repeating the words the voice kept whispering inside her head. If she kept saying them to him maybe the voice would stop taunting her.

The feathers were now darkened by the blood that pooled around them.

"It's your fault!" She wanted to put the blame on him, make him feel the pain she felt. Make it ten times worst till his soul howled the way hers did.

"It's your fault, it's your fault!" She repeated again and again, as if trying to convince herself that he was to blame, but deeply knew that the one that should be receiving the punishment was none but herself.

He died because it was her fault…

And she knew it.

Again and again the blade was put to work. With every piercing of the skin a new scream came out of his mouth. With every sound her smile grew.

Pitch had tried to remain quiet and stoic, that she could grant. But slowly, she had turned his squirming and muffled grunts into full-fledged screams.

He looked in pain.

'Good', she though bitterly.

The fearlings witnessed the event with hungry eyes and macabre delight.

Pitch's Black barked a broken laugh, despite from now being a mere shadow of his former frightening self. Beaten and bloody, there was not an inch of skin that had remained unscathed.

"You think that this atonement? Justice?" His voice was broken, as if struggling to get the words out. "You've finally descended from your mighty throne to get your pound of flesh. You're no better than the monsters you claim to fight."

She said nothing but gripped the handle of the sword tighter.

"Kill me you'll become exactly what you hate: me."

She smiled.

"I know."

Pitch Black's final scream was interrupted when her scimitar sank into his throat.

Toothiana fell to the ground, her whole body shaking by the amount of force the final strike had taken. More feathers fluttered to the ground.

She stared at her reflection in a pool of blood. The feathers on her head were mostly gone and several tufts of dark brown hair fell to her shoulders. The rest of her feathers were drenched in red sticky blood.

The roar in her ears muffled the buzzing sound of the fearlings that swarmed around her, slowly enveloping her. Their laughter and howling gradually growing louder till it was a choir of thousands of different voices.

'Toothy'

Tooth raised her head to the ceiling, as the circle of shadows enclosed over her.

"It's done, Aster." She said to no one in particular in an eerily calm voice. "It's finally done."

Yet, it wasn't over. The pain was still writhing inside her soul, her thirst for blood and her rage finally had been sent to a dormant state. But it still hurt.

"Our Queen…" The echo of a thousand fearlings travelled through the cavern.

"No…" She said through her shivering. She felt so awfully cold and bare.

'We can take away the pain.' The voices said.

"N-no…" Her voice lacked any conviction.

'We can make you forget, take away those painful memories. We can give you power.'

Toothiana blinked as a drop rolled down her cheek. If it was blood, sweat or tears, she didn't know.

'Give yourself to the darkness', the whispers increased till it was the only coherent though inside of her. 'Give us your dreams to consume. Give us a soul to devour!'

She could do it. She could forget. She could kill her guilt, her weakness and vulnerability. She could break free of what held her back.

"Yes."

Her answered was almost drowned by the shrieks and howls of the fearlings as they pounced over her.

One last tear slid down her cheek and she closed her eyes.

Darkness descended upon her.

The chanting echoed among the caverns and dark spaces.

"The king is dead, long live the Queen!"

The guardians threaded slowly as they moved forward into the dark caverns.

They had been looking for Tooth everywhere, combed the world twice once they found her home completely empty. No fairies, no Tooth; nothing but a deserted and unnervingly quiet palace.

They were half fearing that the same fate of their friend had befallen on the fairy queen. And they were simply not strong enough to lose another one.

They had prepared themselves for many harrowing scenarios, but what they found in the main chamber of the Nightmare King left them transfixed.

Before them stood Tooth, but this was not Tooth at all.

There were splatters of blood all over her, but the guardians did not venture further to see if she had been hurt.

The creature before them instilled a distinctive sense of fear within them.

Her back was turned to them, but they could see it.

Her feathers had receded, leaving patches of pale skin. From her back, where the spinal column ran, now protruded human and animal teeth alike. Her insectoid wings had been replaced by black bird-like ones.

"Tooth?" North's strangled voice sounded foreign coming from the Cossack's mouth.

She turned around to completely face them, her jaw and lips glistening with blood. Her cheerful smile and even the late devastated expression had given way to new and more haunting features.

Her eyes no longer a vibrant purple had changed into that of molten amber, full of fire that threatened to freeze and to burn at the same time.

Her perfect white teeth had acquired the sharpness of that of a beast, ready to tear at their victim's throat.

She smiled and pointed to a mangled bloody lump on the floor, the sight sent a shiver down everyone's spine.

"The Nightmare King is dead."

Her wings spread and the fearlings and what vaguely looked like a shadowy form of the Tooth Fairy's helpers shrieked and swarmed around them, ready to attack.

They hissed and snarled, becoming an ominous chorus that made the remaining guardians scoot closer to each other. However, the warriors were unable to tear their eyes away from the haunting figure of Toothiana.

Her smile spread even bigger.

"Long live the Queen."

Let me know how I did and don't forget to R&R. Thanks!