Believe in Me

Chains and Mistakes

Jack felt himself being dragged along a cold floor, each chip or ridge in the somewhat smooth tile cutting a scratch into his already horribly sore skin. A blackness greeted his weary eyes and it took him seconds to realize he hadn’t even opened them yet, but they felt so heavy… Despite that though, Jack realized that the scream worthy pain in his chest had been lessened somewhat, at least enough that he could handle it. He felt something more like a hand than a cuff around his wrist, different ridges in whatever was pulling him indicating fingers, the slight warmth from it clarifying that it was SOMEONE’S hand, and none of the people he was closed to would drag him like that. Jack had no clue where his staff was, but if he was being pulled along by Pitch or someone working with him, it would be pretty obvious it was taken from him while he was out. He wanted to pull away, it felt like his wrist was going to get torn from him before long with how heavy his body felt, but he couldn’t move. No matter how much his brain barked the order to do anything, flex his fingers, open his eyes, none of it responded.

Despite this, his captor obviously figured that he was awake, because after a minute or so a very unfamiliar voice, the voice of a female, murmured, “Good morning, hun.” This took him by surprise, though Jack had no way of showing it with no control over his body. As far as he had known, Pitch only had two other spirits on his side, and both were male. This voice was nowhere near Tooth, Jayna, or Ilia’s… so who exactly was pulling him? He assumed she wasn’t someone he wanted to be around… despite the warm, almost melodic voice, there was a click of coldness to it, the smallest hint of darkness that Jack wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t heard Pitch’s own dark tone so many times in the past. Still though, Jack couldn’t respond, his face wouldn’t even contort into a glare as he was tugged along carelessly. “I was asked to take you to your new room, the king wanted dearly to… have a word with you,” she continued on. That pause before she finished her sentence gave away enough; there wouldn’t just be words involved in this. Despite not wanting to get hurt though, the winter spirit felt more worries for where his comrades had gone. Had they been captured too? Was Grey back to normal, or was he still scraping away at everything that bled? The mental picture sent a slight tingle of fear up the spirit’s spine so he quickly shoved it out of his head. Fear was a bad thing to hold while in the master of fear’s palace. It was like this woman could read his mind though, and there was a still pause of silence before that voice spoke up once more. It was strangely inviting, even though Jack knew she had something bad about her, she wasn’t someone to trust, he… wanted to believe she was good somehow. He couldn’t explain it and he definitely didn’t like it… but that strange trust was there. “Here we go, come on in,” She purred out, her voice slightly deeper but having a velvety smoothness to it just as before. He felt himself being lifted up, then gently laid down on the tile floor once more. His eyes, finally accepting their orders, opened slowly, but the vision was blurred for a few seconds. What he could make out though were bars. He hadn’t really expected anything different, it wasn’t like he was going to put in anything else, but over the multiple cases, cages and cells were starting to get closer and closer to making it on his small dislike list. The floor was cold, but the cold was inviting to his skin anyways.

As his vision made its way back steadily to normal, he took a glance up through the bars that he had been pushed behind to see whoever that woman was. She was, like he suspected, no one Jack had seen before. Her hair was long, falling in smooth, wavy, wine colored locks down her back. Her skin was fair, and eyes a deep violet color, bringing a strange combination of warmth and coldness that seemed to dive deep right into his soul. Though she was tall compared to him, she was average sized for a grown woman… but what really made her out was her shape. Jack had never, not once looked at a female like that, girls were people as much as boys were and if he ever did feel emotionally attached to one, it would  be  because of the way she acted, confidence, a good heart, not the way she was formed.. but it was like his turquoise eyes were drawn under a trance, he had no control over them just like he had no control over his body when she was dragging him, he was like a puppet under a spell… and if the thought of Pitch beating him wasn’t nerving, the thought of what she could make him do with this power definitely was.