Believe in Me

Gashes

It was almost like a dream being back in that horrid room. The stilled blood drying under his hanging bare feet. Grey had been tall enough to at least support himself while he could stand. Jack, however, wasn't and hung by his arms, toes so close to touching the red stained floors beneath. He knew it must've been uncomfortable but the actual feeling was much worse. The choker-like collar around his neck held his head from jerking out of Pitch's reach, chained as his bound arms and legs were to the sturdy dark stoned wall behind him. The room on its own was frightening, let alone that pale grey face smirking back at him wickedly, more in his own thought than actually acknowledging that the boy was there. Oh how sweet revenge would be.. if Pitch could get the reaper on his knees then he could easily do it to Frost. But he didn't want it to be easy, no, drawn out like a cat toying with it's well earned prey. This specific mouse had taunted him with rejection and drew out of the nightmare king a feirce form of hatred he didn't know he could possess. This specific mouse was now his to shread, but slowly and painfully. No matter what though.. Jack Frost wouldn't leave his grasps this time. Why are you suddenly so angered so easily? Something isn't right here.. Just think about it. Stupid voice in his head trying to change his mind! Even his brain was on the guardians' side! But no matter to that.. that was a different topic. He was done wasting time, wouldn't get cocky enough to postpone his second chance at revenge. Frost was hanging, not even touching the ground with how high he had set the restraints. They were made for the reaper but now they served a better purpose. Punishing ANYONE who Pitch felt. The guardians, the spirits that rejected him like Frost once had.. all were in his grasps now that he had risen to power once more. He was more careful and he wouldn't lose his power so easily. 

"Frost," he said with a cold tone to his voice despite the excitement to start right away tearing him from the inside out. It grew a smile on his almost invisable lips to see that the boy who had been skillfully trying to flail his way out of the tight cuffs stopped dead in his movements, eyes gaining their focus on Pitch's own dark form. "Oh how I've missed you..." It had been around a week since both Jack and the other two spirits had scrambled from Pitch's grasps. He somehow missed Jack the most though, the mischivious happy life still showing in the boy's turquoise eyes tearing at him. That light that made him so angry but so excited and desperate to extinguish, the lights that were only outcasted by the brightness of Pitch's runaway pet as he called her. But to add to that he had the arrogant charm, the strength along with that nonstop determination.. it infuriated him. But also drew him in to try and shread the boy apart with more vigorosity than he knew he had in himself. Pitch stepped forward, reaching out a hand to tilt Jack's lowered head up to catch eyes with him, yellowish silver meeting blue in a lock of a glare. Jack knew he wasn't in much of a situation to rely on hope, but that didn't mean he was going to just give up. The guardians would come back for him.. he hated having to rely on others so much though. He was supposed to help them, not have them need to save him at every chance. The second Pitch's touched his face he jerked his head to the side. He wouldn't let himself be treated like someone less than a spirit. "How interesting.." the dark man growled out, turning and pacing slowly in front of Jack, making each step heavy against the tiled floor to echo. He noticed a shiver run through the boy, one that couldn't be of cold. "I'll stench out that arrogance once and for all!" The nightmare king laughed, turning back to face the pale teen in front of him, a familiar black dagger appearing in his hand. The winter spirit's mind flashed back to what he had so faintly saw on Grey's shoulder. The wounds made by that dagger. The scars that blackened and never healed. 

Pitch stepped forward, smirking as he saw a hint of realization in Jack's eyes, and though the boy tried to hide his fear, it fueled the nightmare king even further. With a click of his fingers, Pitch ordered the nightmare sand making the chains lift Jack's arm  to where Pitch could have easy access to it. The dark man tsked at the reddish brown stains still assorting the hoodie. "What a shame, they don't even care to give you clean clothes?" Jack only glared in response, the only form of denial he could manage with so little ability to move and the risk of speaking not only endangering his life but his friend's. "What a shame," Pitch laughed, rolling up the blue sleeve to right above Jack's elbow and looking down gently at the sharp point of the black knife in his hand. "I wonder how good this will look on you," he charmed, feeling admireably out of character with his eagerness and utter joy of the thought that within minutes he would be tearing at the boy. Without further hesitation, Pitch lowered the blade. Jack felt the point touch his skin on his upper forearm, a pause of Pitch thinking, then the sudden shove of the black metalic material being shoved into his skin.