After Dark

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

"If my memory is correct," Pitch mumbled. He was still patting his pockets. Matthew watched him with critical eyes. "You are over five hundred. Which means you should have it."

The Reaper knew exactly what he was looking for. He had his Angel of Death weapon on him. He always kept it on him as a small pocket knife. He didn't want Pitch to find it. He knew what Death had told him, but hadn't tested it out. He hoped the King of Nightmares really wouldn't be able to use it.

"What are you even looking for?" Mishal asked. He sounded bored. He was still holding onto the Reaper's wings so he couldn't move.

"I'm looking for a weapon." Pitch smirked sitting back on his heals to talk to the fire spirit. "It can take any form. Only reapers over five hundred years old can have it."

"That's nice." Mishal grumbled. "What's so special about it?"

"Well, it's the only weapon I know of in existence that can mortally wound spirits." The Nightmare King purred. Matthew didn't know how he found out about it. He hoped he didn't find it, but he was getting very close to the pocket. "Now, its a matter of if he's carrying it or not."

"I want it." Mishal said quickly.

Pitch ignored him and started searching again. He smiled wickedly as he finally found a hard lump in the last pocket. He cautiously opened his coat and reached for the inner pocket. He reached in and grabbed the weapon. He yelped in pain flinging it part way across the cave. The small pocket knife landed with a light clatter. The spirit of darkness was holding his hand in surprise. Matthew snorted seeing his expression.

"That's it?" Mishal asked. He let go of his wings to go look. Both him and Pitch had to move quickly to get out of the Canadian's wingspan. He quickly slashed at them. He didn't cut either one. "It's a pocket knife."

"That's it." The Nightmare King said watching Mishal bend over to grab it.

The fire spirit picked it up and immediately dropped it. He wasn't able to pick it up either. He kept trying, but touching it even slightly, hurt. Pitch just watched him. He looked disappointed,

"Birdie?" Jack whispered quietly getting his attention. He shifted into a more comfortable position and turned towards him. He looked worried. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." The Canadian said reassuringly. He reached his hands towards Jack and he took them in his. "Nothing new broken at least."

The winter spirit still looked worried, but looked past him to watch Pitch and Mishal. The Canadian looked as well. The fire spirit was still trying to pick up the weapon. He had taken his shoe and sock off to try and pick it up with his toes. On contact, he jumped and yelled. He fell flat on his face. Pitch was just watching him shaking his head.

"Should have done a bit more research." Matthew commented. Both scowled in his direction.

Mishal kept trying new ways to pick up the knife. He was determined to do it. The King of Nightmares just watched. He wanted to use it as well, but wasn't that much of a glutton for punishment.

"What are you doing?" Bunny asked hopping out of a tunnel.

The pooka was limping and Matthew smirked. His appearance made Jack gasp and whine quietly. The Canadian gently squeezed his hands. The winter spirit was holding onto them tightly watching Bunny's every move. The Reaper was too. He wanted him no where near Jack.

"Apparently, this boring little pocket knife can kill other spirits." Mishal said. He had his sock on his hand. He tried to pick the knife up, but still dropped it. The Guardian of hope raised an eyebrow. "We can't pick it up."

"Hmmm." Bunny seemed slightly curious.

"Maybe a Guardian can?" Pitch suggested. He looked from Jack to the pooka then to the blade. Bunny hopped over and grabbed it confidently. He yelled in surprise dropping it instantly. "That was disappointing, but expected."

The trio kept trying different ways to pick up the knife. None of them were able to hold it longer than a second. They gave up and kicked it to the opposite side of the cave. Matthew watched it skid into the darkness. He made a note of the spot for later, just encase. He didn't know where Pitch had taken his usual dagger. The three spirits left them alone again.

—-❄️"And you don't need to pull out your calculator, 30 is a much lower number than 80, I checked, I did the math."❄️—-

Few days later...

"Birdie." Jack sighed. The pair were still sitting together holding hands. He let go of one of his hands. He reached out gently cupping the Canadian's jaw. He leaned into the touch. "Sleep, you need it."

It had been a few days since they'd seen Pitch, Bunny or Mishal. Matthew wasn't sure how long or how long he'd been there in total. He was exhausted, but refused to sleep. He had an awful pounding head ache. He hadn't had any food or water since he'd got there. He could survive a few days longer than a human without water, but it still took a toll on him.

Jack had been trying to make snow. He had only been able to make small bits of frost that melted instantly from the heat. It took a lot of energy. His wounds had almost healed completely as well. He was still warm for a winter spirit, but not as over heated as before. He was radiating a bit of cold.

"I'm fine, Jack." Matthew mumbled. The Guardian looked unconvinced. "Really, I'm not tired."

"I'll wake you if there's even a bug moving." Jack said with a small smile. "At least lay down."

"Okay." The Reaper grumbled. He didn't have the energy to argue with him anymore.

Matthew slowly laid down on his side facing the bars. He didn't let go of the winter spirit's hands. It felt nice to be able to stretch his legs out. The stone of the floor was nice and cool. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but he'd slept in worse places. As soon as he settled, it felt like any energy he had was gone. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost instantly.

The Reaper was woken a few hours later by a sound. He wasn't sure where he was at first. The sound was just rustling and thought Jack was just moving. He was about to fall back asleep again when he heard a whimper and more rustling. He realized the Guardian wasn't holding his hands anymore either. He knew something was wrong.

Matthew quickly sat up trying to fight off a wave of dizziness. Jack was still there in front of him. He had his back turned to him and pressed against the bars. There was a grey furry hand around his throat and one over his mouth. Bunny was looming over him.