Believe in Me

Meanwhile...

Pitch Black sat in his underground chambers with a glare in his intimidating yellow eyes and a tight grip on the chain lacing his chair. He was weak, his power was lowered so greatly, he could barely summon more than five fearlings at a time. That, he knew, would change within a short amount of time, but patience wasn’t for him. He was used to having full power, if something needed to be done he could stand right at the moment and do it. Waiting irritated him and threatened everything around him at most times. Especially the small figure at the end of the chain he was grasping.

She sat at his feet with her head slightly bowed, shamed but not struggling to get loose. White fox ears were ducked on her head, the matching tail curled around her like a blanket to try and halfheartedly shield the ever growing spawn of nightmare dust hovering around the room. She was a child in the looks, messy blonde hair falling over her shoulders and bright green eyes, eyes so full of life and curiosity, excitement and innocence, they were piercing for Pitch to look at. Every once in a while she would cautiously peek over her shoulder and those eyes would meet his and before she knew it there would be a hard yank on the chain, the collar of the same nightmare dust cutting into her neck. It was hard as metal if Pitch willed it to be, and he did. There was no way for her to get loose. But she didn’t seem to want to at this point. “Child.” She didn’t look over her shoulder, she had learned her lesson by this point. Pitch seemed pleased at the small feeling of fear he sniffed out of the girl. At least he had control over someone. “If I release you, will you run?” She looks up in surprise, almost turning her head to him but stopping herself halfway. Release her..? She had to debate for the answer. She would never lie to the nightmare king in fear of what he would do to her if he found out. So she thought. Running would get her back to her life of fun, the life of mischief and excitement and light she was used to. But it would also get her on the boogieman’s bad side, which was too far intimidating to ignore. “No, sir,” She replied, her  voice slightly shaky but still holding a little bit of hope, as always. It had a playful tone to it, even through the fear. “Then go find a spirit named Jack Frost. Watch him, but don’t let him see you. Tell me how he’s doing.”

She blinked, turning to face the man on the throne with confusion, resulting in the quick painful jerk of the collar against her neck. She whimpered, lowering her glance so that she didn’t see him face to face again. The floor was a more welcoming sight anyways; those gleaming orbs of yellow were like his own warning signs of the nightmares he controlled, the power he had once had. “Why?” She dared to ask, cowering and hugging the fluffy white fur of her tail as the only source of comfort in the room. Pitch noticed this and frowned with distaste, but decided to let it go. In any other situation he would just sever the child’s tail clean off. They weren’t meant to have parts of animals anyways. But she had been as obedient as she could achieve. He wouldn’t punish good enough behavior in one of the few left that still feared him. “He is an important part to my plan. That’s all you need to know,” He replied carelessly, spinning the end of the chain between his fingers. She nodded and turned back so that she didn’t risk peeking up to vision his face again. “Be back by morning,” Pitch finished. Right as he said it the chain attatched to the collar dissolved back into the original blackish sand. She sat there for a minute. She was freed, just like that. It almost stirred something happy again in her heart but she remembered her oath. I wont run, her head repeated as she stood and dashed out the doors of the nightmare palace.