Eye Contact is a Dangerous Thing

Prologue

The full moon's light filtered in through the warped glass windows. The silvery beams brushing against the face of the two year old as she scrunched her face up in her sleep; butterflies and birds made of glimmering golden sand danced above her head. The wrinkles on her young face smoothed out into a chubby cheeked smile.

"Oh isn't that just precious! Look at this adorable little girl all safe inside her little dreamlands…." A dark figure warped out of the shadows that writhed beneath the child's bed. The creature swung his head towards the frosted panes, baring his sharp teeth at the glowing moon. "It would be a real pity if something were to happen to the poor little dear… It's a shame old friend; you can only watch and never help…"

He gave a perfectly feral grin. "I hope you enjoy the show."

The monster's hand crept forward and grasped one of the birds by its neck; it let out a silent chirp before it the cheery gold sand corrupted into a sickening black, absorbing the rest of the dream along with it. The little songbird morphed into the ragged form of a Canadian goose. It affectionately brushed against the man's hand and nipped at his fingers playfully. Golden eyes lit up with glee as the little girl began to frown, letting out a small whimper, as her dream became a nightmare.

Outside the little cabin, the moonlight dimmed. The man began to chuckle darkly, his voice rising in volume as he spoke.

"Look at that little dream gone wrong! I think the little dear might even start to cry! Wouldn't that just be precious? I mean look at her, how scared she is! I can almost see why you love children so mu— Arghh!"

He let out a cry of pain as something rammed into his lower back sharply. With a snarl he whipped around to confront this new threat, the nightmare letting out a hiss.

"Get away from my sister you monster!"

The Boogieman froze.

He blinked in shock as he stared at the spindly young boy. The kid was glaring at him from underneath the three-legged stool he wielded above his head. The small hands tightened their grip on the seat, brown eyes filled with determination.

"You're scaring her! No one is allowed to scare my sister! Not even the Goblin King!"

The boogieman spluttered indignantly.

"Goblin King?! Goblin—you filthy brat! I am Pitch Black! I am the Boogieman! I am fear itself! How dare you mistaken me for that bloody show-pony Jareth!" Pitch towered over the child. "I am the Nightmare King and you will fear m—Oof!"

A chair to the gut interrupted him once more, causing him to double over in pain. The goose hopped onto the bedpost and cocked its head curiously as it observed the scene.

"Y-you little miscreant!" he gasped, reaching out to grab the offender. The boy jumped back, his instincts taking over for a split second. That didn't last long before being replaced by an unholy glee. It was the glee that all children seem to possess; the one that only comes out when a parent is exhausted to the point they are willing to give into any demand the child may make, and with a wicked grin he charged forward brandishing the stool wildly above his head. The boy was unrelenting in his attack, mercilessly beating Pitch over the head until he was forced to retreat.

Before long an absurd scene was taking place in the small bedroom as a young boy chased the nightmare king around in a circle, hitting him with the stool whenever the opportunity arose. The nightmare goose flapped its wings excitedly as it honked and bounced around the room following the duo.

As the lad chased the monster around he began to sing gleefully:

"Jack be nimble! Jack be quick! Jack jump over the candle stick!"

The door creaked open slightly.

"Jack, what are ye doing?" a woman called from the doorway.

The two males froze, glancing at each other before turning towards the door as it opened wider. Jack whipped the stool behind his back, his slender frame rendering the attempt ineffective.

"Chasing the boogieman?" Jack offered hesitantly. The goose bobbed its head in agreement at his side.

"Off to bed with ye this instant! That's enough of your childish games! You are seven years old! That's more then old enough for ye to know better then to be up to this tomfoolery! And at such an ungodly hour such as this! For shame boy! Ye could have wakened your sister!

"Yes mother" Jack hung his head.

Pitch began to snicker.

"Now back to bed before the fair folk take ye! And hurry! Or I'll take a switch to ye in the morning!" The door creaked shut and the footsteps padded away.

Jack raised the stool menacingly towards the nightmare king.

"Ah, ah, ah, you heard your mother, back to bed for all the naughty children!"

Jack took a step forward.

"On second thought, I have other children to terrorize. I really must be off for the night. Now off you go!" Pitch waved his hands in a placating manner as he began to back away.

"You won't scare my sister again?"

"No, I'll leave."

"Promise."

"I promise."

The boy squinted at him suspiciously before glancing at the door for a moment. He slumped a little and, a little too slowly for Pitch's tastes, lowered the stool.

"Okay." He turned and trudged his way back towards his bed, carefully setting the stool down beside it. The goose hopped onto it and settled down comfortably.

"That's right, that's a good little Jack."

Pitch followed him, lifting the thin blanket for the boy to crawl under. The boy let out a tired yawn.

"That was fun. Will you come back and play with me again?"

Pitch stumbled, his mind filled with shock.

Fun? The child thought it was a game? How dare he—.

"Goodnight Pitch."

He froze and looked at the little boy again.

"And remember; you promised, no more scaring my sister…" The boy trailed off as he fell back to sleep.

Pitch gave the goose a look and it sheepishly hopped off the stool.

"Of course."

And with that Pitch melted back into the room's shadows and left the home, the goose reluctantly trailing after him. They rematerialized a little way outside the humble cabin, his feet crunching in the snow, and glanced back at the unassuming window.

"But you, my dear Jack, should remember that the boogieman doesn't keep his promises."

No one noticed when the moon got a little bit brighter.

Far away, above the planet, a man leaned away from where he had been watching the scene unfold through his telescope.

"Thank you Pitch I most certainly did enjoy the show."

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for joining me on this new and exciting ride! It started off as a simple idea and well... here we are. I was listening to Changeling Child by Heather Dale while writing this, however, it was the chicken dance that was playing in my head as I wrote the chase scene between Pitch and Jack.