The Fall Of The Guardians

Chapter 1

Jack lay on the icy ground. He was bruised, covered in cuts, and covered in blood. Above him, a battle between North and the Lord of the Shadows raged in the sky.

His leg was broken, as were several ribs. His staff was gone.

Bunnymund was dead, as was Sandy. Jack had watched them die. He had done all he could to protect them, but it wasn't enough. Pitch had grown too strong.

Jack feebly turned his head, his heart sinking as his eyes landed on a broken figure lying on the ground nearby. It was tooth, her limbs bent at odd angles and her feathers covered in blood.

"Tooth...?" Jack whispered hoarsely.

She looked over at him, her eyes dull. Her broken fingers wove themselves with his, holding his hand tightly. Her breathing was gaspy and ragged with pain.

"We... Lost... " Tooth choked out, her voice barely audible, "We... Failed... The whole... World... "

"I'm so sorry." Jack said softly, swallowing back a sob.

Her hand went limp, and that was the end of the tooth fairy.

Jack's eyes could barely remain open, but he forced himself to watching the fight above him. North's swords were flying, flashes of silver metal slicing the air as he defended himself from attacks. Pitch summoned more dreamsand. The amount of the evil substance grew too much for the reindeer and the sleigh.

"No!" North shouted, but it was too late. The dreamsand took out the sleigh's two engines, as well as the reindeer. They hung dead, limp in their harnesses, and then began to fall.

CRASH!

Jack let out  a cry of grief of as the sleigh smashed into the ground, splintering into millions of pieces. North groaned, and then it was silent. A dark red color slowly drained into the snow.

"Yes!" Pitch cried triumphantly, "The Guardians have fallen! The dark ages shall arrive once more!"

Jack closed his eyes rather than look at the bodies lying in the snow. The mangled corpse of Bunnymund lay not too far off, as well as a pile of golden sand that was once Sandy. Tooth was next to him and North was only six yards away. Were they actually all dead? Was he...?

Was Jack alone again?

It was his fault. He should have fought harder, he should have summoned more ice, he should have listened.

"What's this?" A laughing voice sounded loudly above Jack's head. The dreamsand neared the ground, and Pitch Black stepped off of it and into the snow. "Is it possible that one of those little insects are still alive?"

A foot nudged Jack in the side. He hissed, trying to curl onto his side as pain licked at his broken ribs. 

"Ah, the Frost boy. Why am I not surprised?"

Jack didn't want to die. He was scared of dying, in fact. He had managed to avoid it once, but he knew that this time, he wouldn't be so lucky.

Still, death was more appealing than living in a world where Pitch was the king.

"Just... Kill... Me... " Jack coughed. He knew he had failed; he didn't need to be humiliated any longer. 

"That does sound appealing." Pitch said admittedly, as if he was talking to someone in an office, "Though I find your current state amusing. I wonder, would my plan succeed if I kept you alive?"

Blood dripped from the corner of Jack's mouth as he coughed. "Kill me!" He shouted, "God... Dammit... Kill me."

Jack couldn't stay alive after this. He wouldn't be able to face every day knowing he had failed, knowing that people, children, were suffering because of him. With Pitch back in power, the human race would be plagued with horror after horror.