Darkling Family

Prologue

Ner words in this chapter:1,950

"English"

Thinking in 3rd person POV/Dream/Memory/Flashback/Others

Letter/Journal/Book/Newspaper

Time change/Date of time

Change of POV

Prologue

November 2004

PB's POV

Pitch sat in his lair playing with the sand in silence. There was nothing else he could do but try. He might never have enough power... but there were the few thousands who believed. Adults which made the fear lots weaker than what he needed, yet beggars can't be pickers. One more attempt, just one more and... failure. And there goes all the fear he'd collected during whatever war the adults were fighting upstairs. In the 'real world'.

Pitch looked up longingly. Maybe he'd find one of his believers. One really scared and in need of a fear discharge.

He let the shadows transport him into the outside world and looked around. Looked like he was in London.

"HELP!"

And in luck. Pitch followed the scream and stayed in the darkness as a group of drunk men... these were Wizards... of course they believed in him because they are taught to and how to fight his minions. How many Boggarts had he sent only for them to return after being forced back into his realm with laughter? The poor Creatures never stood a chance against this kind. Pitch's eyes narrowed. Finally, he'd be able to make at least some of them pay for what they did to the poor Fearlings.

"Who'd help a Mudblood like you?" The voice was slurred barely managing the words out.

Pitch turned to who they meant and found a dark-ginger Witch holding unto a stick as if it was a life source. He stayed in the shadows and saw her eyes. Green. Not any green. It was like looking into the sky and see all of these stars and constellations. It reminded Pitch of a time where he could see it in another completely different way up in the sky...

"Please, help me."

Pitch frowned as the eyes looked directly into his eyes. The only thing visible in the shadows. The men turned but didn't see him. Not all Wizards did believe he existed after all, only some. She did.

"Who are you talking to, you Cunt?"

It was the way she kept looking back even when she was hit that made him move. Maybe there was still some Kozmotis in him... he darkened the alley.

"What's... you summoned a Creature?" Another drunk snarled at the believer.

"Bogeyman." The Witch whispered in fear and... thankfulness.

The men started shouting around. Throwing their happy memories around and light. He started to be able to feed on their fear. He didn't feel any fear from her which was strange but he didn't question it. He let his Shadowmen eat the men alive. Doing to them what their race had done to his Fearlings for centuries. The woman never tried to escape. She leant down unto her knees and stayed there in acceptance.

Finally, the darkness stepped back and there was no sign of the Wizards except their sticks of power. He stepped on one as he approached the woman who looked up at him, tears in her eyes and waiting. Her only fear was that she'd never wed her beloved in a month.