A Shadow's Kiss ~ A Pitch Black/Rise of the Guardians Fanfiction

Chapter 23 ~ Tragedy in a Small Town

Pitch POV

Anara Rose went eerily still in the Nightmare King's arms. "Anara!" Pitch hissed, gently tapping her face to try and rouse her. "Anara, come on, stay with me, my queen..." He whispered, pressing his fingers to the artery in her neck while he felt for a sign of life. The pounding of blood through her veins had ceased. "No!" Pitch shouted, pulling Anara closer to his chest and sobbing. A single line of water dripped down his check. "What is this? I do not cry." Pitch mumbled, seeing his own tears falling onto Anara's skin. "But you are." A deep voice rumbled above him. The Man in the Moon, hiding somewhere behind the stormy clouds above. "I didn't mean to," Jack finally started, breaking the harrowing silence.

Pitch raised his hand, getting ready to blast Jack with some nightmare sand, but something made him pause. She wouldn't want this... He thought, curling his fingers into a fist and sighing. He could hear the harsh whinny of his Nightmares coming closer, sensing his fear. He shook his head at the creatures. "Pitch?" He heard Jack's voice, quiet and constricted as if he was about to cry. The Nightmare King growled, feeling both fury and despair radiating throughout his very core. But instead of turning his hatred into an all out war as he used to do, he wrapped both of his arms around the cooling body of his lover, pulling her ever closer. He gathered Anara into his embrace, placing her head against his shoulder and petting her hair gently. With his heart throbbing painfully, he snapped two of his long fingers together. Smoke and ebony sand swirled around the couple, and moments later, the Boogeyman and the girl were gone.

The Nightmare King had taken Anara home, appearing in the center of her living room. With her mother gone for the weekend, he had time to figure things out. Still gazing at the deceased girl, he carried her up the staircase and into her room. The tall man glanced around the pale topaz walls, their color dark in comparison to Anara's pale skin. He swallowed thickly, stepping forward to place the girl on her soft bed. Her lips were slowly losing their shade, the dark crimson dulling into a baby pink. Her milky white skin began to develop an ashy hue, ironic when he realized that this would be the one time where their flesh looked so similar.

Safely away from the skeptical and judgemental eyes of his enemies, the Boogeyman began to sob uncontrollably. It was strange to see a being so dark and deceptive, someone that used to be utterly devilish, with tears streaming down his face as he stared at his former lover. He anxiously ran his fingers along her body, trying to memorize every little detail. The way her lips curved into a pout at the front, how her small hands, though limp and lifeless, looked so elegant when placed over her abdomen. Her dark hair looked like a pool of ink spilling across her pillow. Even in death, the young woman possessed a mystical beauty. A girl fit to be his Nightmare Queen. He loved once, and had lost his wife so long ago. His daughter did not want to speak to him, and hadn't. And this girl, the last person he was able to bring himself to love, was gone as well. She had changed him, reminded him of the man he used to be. She had helped him learn to be a better person. He wanted to be good, for her, to make her proud.

Now she was dead, and he knew inevitably he would spiral into his old ways. The human life in comparison to his was but a fleeting moment, yet somehow this one woman had managed to convince him otherwise. Pitch grated his teeth, fists clenched as he strode around the room. Part of him wanted to die, though he knew it wasn't possible. Another part of him was filled with devastating sadness. And the last part of his soul was encased with complete grief induced rage. A surge of power erupted from his hands, something beyond his control, and the window completely shattered, while most of the furniture in the room shook and slammed against the walls or fell over.

Hours must've passed, the sun slowly setting in the distance, darkening the bedroom. Pitch had finally sat on the bed, unable to part from his beloved. Anar's pets slowly made their way into the room, investigating what was happening. They sniffed and prodded Anara with their paws and furry noses, trying to awaken her from eternal slumber. Eventually, another spiritual presence entered the room. A hulking figure filled the open doorway, tall with broad shoulders, with the scent of candy canes and pinecones lingering on his red cloak. Pitch didn't even look up. The Nightmare King was defeated. Everything he had ever cared about was gone. What more did he have to lose?