The Way the Wind Blows (a BlackIce love story) [NEW CHAPTERS COMING SOON]

Chapter Two: Pain

~Jack's POV~

Theme: Avenged Sevenfold - Nightmare

Pitch grabbed my collar and threw me against Jamie's wall. Blinding lights flashed before my eyes as a sharp pain erupted from the back of my head. Everything went black. My hearing dulled. I went numb.

My body was floating in a haze, unable to come back down. I was wrenched forward once, then continued my mellow flow. Images of Jamie and the other Guardians flashed before my eyes.

What will they think? That I'm dead? That Pitch has taken over me? No, I can't let that happen, I weakly thought to myself.

Then all thought and feeling was erased in the void.

...

...

...

The first thing I was aware of was the floor. It was cold, and damp. And smooth, spread with ridges here and there. I flexed my fingers and arms carefully, assessing for anything broken. My arms and hands seemed okay.

I slowly pulled myself up, and was stopped by a dull throbbing in my side. Either a bruised or broken rib. Great. I groaned softly and slowly opened my eyes.

It was dark.

Just freaking great!

I got to my feet cautiously, clutching my left side, the one with the damaged rib. I felt along the walls of the small room, searching for a door, window, something! But my hand met nothing but smooth stones. Well, crud.

Then it hit me. My staff! I panicked. I went into a frenzy searching all four corners of the room, finding nothing, again. I felt hollow inside. The staff had always been a part of me, and always would. I gasped. Memories of what happened previously came rushing back. Pitch kidnapped me! Well, hell.

I ran my free hand through my hair. Well, at least I knew where the staff was. But now I had bigger problems in mind. What was Pitch gonna do to me? I began to struggle for air. I could feel my throat closing. Slumping against the nearest wall, I put my head between my legs and forced myself to breathe deeply. I started to lose myself.

My name is Jack Frost. And I'm in deep, deep trouble. Pitch Black is gonna kill me.

My thoughts began to clear and even out. I straightened myself. I sighed, defeated for the moment. Sleep was the best thing for right now. I closed my eyes as I laid down on the floor, pulling up my hood to reduce some of the discomfort.

And slowly, but surely, I drifted off. My dreams were hazy... like old memories. But I knew for a fact these weren't from my memory.

Pitch touched me cautiously. Like an unsure lover. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn't. In fact, my own hands came up and caressed his face and such. A hand run through sleek, black hair. A nip of teeth to the neck.

It made me sick to watch. But there was something else too. I struggled to grasp it as the dream slipped away.

I woke in a cold sweat.

Speak of the Devil. And he shall appear.

I pressed myself against the wall in response to Pitch's sudden appearance. How long had he watched me sleep? It was kind of creepy. I searched his face cautiously, looking for any signs of immediate danger.

'You sleep. Quite interesting,' he spoke with his hands behind his back. Very still.

'What's it to you?' I retorted.

He laughed. It made my spine crawl. 'I didn't think that Spirits slept,' he spoke slowly, as if weighing each word. What a creep.

I scoffed. 'Whatever. Now what the hell do you want, freak?'