Believe in Me

A Losing Battle

I should say in advance that my chapters may start going slow or not quite make sense right away. I haven’t updated in forever and I’m truly sorry for that. As a result, if I contradict myself or something, just tell me or wait and I’ll go back and fix it once I can. I’m thankful for the responses I got on my “What should I do now?” chapter thing, they really helped out with both the story and my self confidence. Once again, thank you for reading, and have a good night.

If anything could make Pitch happier, he wasn’t sure if he could contain himself. How perfectly his plan was going, to have the only one that could stop him in his superior strength locked up, and being twisted by his own corruption to attack the ones he sided for. The fear of spirits was so delicious compared to that of humans, how things of otherworldly power could be frightened so easily. Humans were quite easy to scare, at least the most of them, each and every one had their own memories and anxieties that locked them into Pitch’s domain. His black shadowed sand would twist around their minds, opening them up to new ideas, new possibilities, a new creativity that made it so easy to create the thoughts of superstition or paranoia that drew the sweet smell of fearful suffering to his fingertips without the nightmare king having to even lift a finger. Honestly, all he had to do was throw in tiny things, a shadow moving at the end of a dark hallway, a small thought corroding their minds with “what ifs” and “I wonders” that the fear is completely created by themselves. But spirits, spirits were much different. They tended to be braver, having already passed on and gone through pain. The man in the moon specifically chose each of them, so each of them had their own reasons to be in the position governing certain aspects of the world. They were strong, their hearts were strong, but with that, so was their fear when it did come. He loved to see them suffer, the light in their eyes to be extinguished, to see them beg to be spared. Maybe he wouldn’t quite go to the extent of hurting humans… but the pained, scared scream of a spirit? That, was a reward well worked for.

Grey Loss was now no longer an issue, the reaper turned from man to beast and his will shattering piece by piece every time he came out of the monster form and realized the damage that he couldn’t stop. It was even more beautiful that he was automatically notified of every death in waiting, Pitch didn’t even have to remind him of how many thousands of people were suffering because of his weakness, his own mind did it for him. The “poor” man was the spirit of reality from what Pitch had figured, so it was obvious that he never gained the state of denial that most others would. He had to accept it as truth, as reality. And it felt exhilaratingly good to see him sitting against the wall of his confinements, his head bowed, the look of shame, pain, building guilt all etched across his once wall-blank face.  

Now Pitch would move onto the second spirit he was equally excited to crush beneath his boot... Jack Frost. The boy should’ve already seen what was going on in the world, and with the sense of justice all those on the “good side” were enticed with, chances are he would rush in with the other guardians, right into Pitch’s hands. It would be so simple to snag the spirit while the guardians were trying to find Grey, and the nightmare king wouldn’t have to wait long. Each minute, no second, countless were dying, the protectors of hope and life wouldn’t be able to stand themselves if they waited mindlessly until the world was filled with agonized humans and an overpopulation from the young being born and the old never dying off. No, it would be soon, today even. The nightmare king reclined slightly further in the throne he had grown to feel suited to the power he now possessed, smirking and greatfully knowing that the man in the moon could see it and couldn’t do a single thing about it. “How is this, old friend?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to the ceiling of the dark room, his teasing words directed towards the dormant form hidden just above it by the sun’s bright light. “Can you be so sure that your guardians will fare well this time?”

Jack leaned back against the wooden, spirited wall of the pole, watching in his own mindless thoughts as the large, brute-like reindeer that North commanded to pull his sled were reined. It was amusing enough watching the tiny elves run frantically around and beneath the huge hoofs of the creatures as they kicked and thrashed, angry to be awoken as they so rarely did, but Jack didn’t find his lips curving into the smile they always seem to resort to on their own. Despite the cheery atmosphere the pole radiated with its brightly colored walls and decorations, there was nothing but a heavy hanging feeling of dread in the air. Ilia was in the far corner of the room, curled up against the wall with her small pale knees held close to her chest with one arm, the other stroking a small puppy that, as far as Jack could tell, probably got hit by a car before Ilia wrapped it up and pulled it back into the pole. He wondered if once they figured out what was going on and Grey fixed everything, the puppy would die as it should’ve already and go on. It would be better than watching the small thing suffer afterall… but he could tell that that wasn’t what was making the bright eyes of the small girl so dimmed.

She looked so lost, not afraid but hurt, the pure white ears that were usually perked up in her usual positivity were drooped down  against her head, her small form rocking a little as if comforting herself.

Tooth had given up in her attempts to cheer everyone back up as well, knowing for sure that it would be to no avail. When everyone smiled it was so fake, so pained, their eyes strengthening in the hardened sadness that their “smiles” deceived as hope. She didn’t feel so happy either for obvious reasons.. until the world was back to its normal state, things wouldn’t be right again. North was working with the reindeer, helping to calm them. He had a silent hope that Ilia would help comfort them with the aura that always seemed to calm animals while around her, but the child was lost in her own world, even the loud pounding of hooves on the hardwood floors and the loud snorts the irritated creatures would release didn’t snap her from the haze that kept her beautiful eyes entranced to a focus on the ground.

Bunny and Jayna had quit the bickering they had begun a while before after Bunny came back reporting that Pitch’s Lair was found under a gutter in a street in California, just falling silent around each other at this point. Bunny had furiously refused to ride in the sled, popping open a rabbit hole beneath his feet and pointing to it before North even got around to suggesting that they should all stick together. Jayna looked between the rabbit and the man before agreeing sheepishly that tunnels were her way to go. Sandy was nowhere to be found. Everything felt so dead, either that or so angry, frustrated, hopeless, and all of those heart shattering emotions were contagious to the extremes. It was like a virus that had encased their once hopeful hearts.. so now they were off to their last real hope. Grey could fix this, make the extreme issue that now clouded over the earth okay again so that they could focus on defeating Pitch once again.. but where was Grey? He couldn’t be dead, thankfully that wasn’t a thought that was allowed to cross their minds. If it had been anyone else but the immortal reaper, the situation might’ve seemed even further hopeless, which at this point was barely imaginable. So that left two options that came to mind to the spirit of winter… Either Grey was captured or he was doing this by his own will. Either option was something to be fearful of, Grey as the enemy would result in things far worse than what were taking place, he could kill someone at the blink of an eye, they’d just drop dead, plus the mental pain on Ilia would probably kill the fox girl on its own. If he were captured that would mean that Pitch or Chaos or even the Wind spirit that had abandoned Jack had grown so horribly powerful that they could overcome even him, the, or so he thought, strongest of them all. North made a motion with his large hand, it was time to go. As Jack pulled himself away from the wall and put his hands in his blue hoodie’s pockets, he wasn’t quite sure whether he should feel hopeful at the chance of saving the world... or wary at how it got this way so quickly in the first place. But they had no choice.. it was time to go to Pitch’s Lair once again.