Safe Shadows Shorts

I Dream A Nightmare

A/N: Welcome readers to the first installment of my short story series for Safe Shadows. Everything needing to be mentioned has been done in the summary. This chapter takes place before the events of the book and focuses on Pitch and Sandman. Enjoy!

A black horse trailed through the sky, the summer breeze aiding in a swift glide. Onyx skimmed her gaze to the city below, searching desperately for a child whose unconscious had not been occupied by Sanderson yet. She knew she should have left earlier. The golden man did not start his work until 9 at night, no matter the time zone. She should have begun before then, many children were expected in bed before 9.

But, no. She just had to have waited.

She had been helping her master, actually. Pitch was still trying to regain his strength after the fight with the Guardians. It shamed her, really, that she had been one of the nightmares to drag him down to the lair and torture him senseless out of pure desperation for fear. It wasn't until the balance began to be restored that the horses soon found a new source of fear other than their weakened master.

So, this was her chance to redeem herself. Now that Pitch no longer needed her assistance in moving around--it seemed that the lack of fear and belief really took a toll on his overall well-being--she was finally able to make herself truly useful and gather fear for him.

Now she was struggling, as much as she knew her brethren were.

Sanderson had made the smart move of reinforcing his dreamsand to where it was now untaintable. Smart move, she'd give him credit for that. How he did it was beyond her, despite her personal knowledge in the properties of the magical sand. But his antics made things all the more difficult for the nightmares.

There was absolutely no way she could go back without having an ounce of fear to offer. Pitch would be gravely disappointed in her, most of all because she was his lead nightmare; his second in command.

And, if she had the courage to say so to his face; his best friend.

Of course, there was no telling how that would go down with the Nightmare King, so she opted to stay quiet.

She watched from the alleyway as dreamsand snaked its way into another bedroom, already claiming the sleeping child for itself. She huffed and glared at nowhere in particular. When she really thought about it, it didn't seem fair for her master to suffer the fate that he did. Onyx had watched Sanderson make his dream creatures, send them to children, then evaporate them into thin air by sunrise. The golden man never kept his creatures with him, never allowed them the same personification that Onyx and her brethren were allowed. Pitch, however, gave them freedom. He let them remain intact--unless one was to catch him on a really bad day. Onyx had experienced his wrath only a handful of times, which was a handful too many.

So if Pitch was so kind as to allow her life, why had he been so blatantly disregarded?

In her personal opinion, Pitch deserved to be believed in. Though this may be the nightmare in her talking.

The question was left unanswered as a tendril of dreamsand spiraled around her form as if taunting her and everything she stood for. She wished she could growl, but alas, it came out merely as a muffled grunt. With a final glare at the sand, she kicked off into the night sky and continued her search for an unoccupied mindscape.

All efforts were halted when she felt something grainy wrap around her back leg and yank her from the sky, pummeling her into the pavement below. Dazed, she stumbled around to see her attacker. No surprise, it was Sanderson. The little man glared at her, streams of dreamsand spiraling from his hands in warning. Although, it was anything but a warning, more of a preparation to fight. The Guardians never gave warnings, only hits.