"The First and Last Thing I See Is Darkness"

M/N: Wait...

Darkness.

It's the first thing he remembered when he had woken up in the drowning nightmare and darkness is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes once again. Jack never remembered closing them. One second he was in North's caring embrace, feeling an agonizing pain on his head, then the next time the blinked he was surrounded by the dark. It seemed like his world never remained on the light. It was always over-shadowed by something else.

It was just so black that it didn't matter if he opened or closed his eyes, there was still nothing to be seen. Not even the tiniest slither of light was to be seen. Jack felt the familiar panic set in first, but he got logical quickly enough. He tried feeling anything around him by reaching his arms out and blindly moved his arms and hands trying to feel.

Trying to feel something besides his own feelings. Trying to feel something besides the solid and rough ground he was standing on. Above all, trying to feel an anchor to tell him that he is real and that he himself wasn't some messed up dream all this time. That he'd dreamt he had been real at all. That he had all of those adventures and memories.

With those thoughts came the conclusion to something. His staff. He was missing his staff. He had not noticed it before but in his nightmares his staff had never been there. The frosty spirit of Winter felt the earlier panic set in full force. He could not lose his staff. Not ever.

That fancy long stick didn't only serve as some accessory to help him channel his powers better, but it was also a big comfort to him. When Jack had started out as a newly made immortal his only tether to the fact that he existed was the staff. It helped him believe in himself. It was one of the few things he had that remained constant with him and his life.

"Looking for something?" a smooth British voiced reverberated to Jack's ears. Pitch, Jack immediately recognized his voice. It dripped like honey into Jack's eardrums, sticking in his mind until all he could hear was the echoes of the last word.

Pitch chuckled. He loved playing games, especially games of fear. He could feel Jack's fear rolling off of him in waves and visibly see it on Jack's face through the darkness. The Nightmare King had once extended the hand of friendship to Jack. The boy had refused, claiming that he did want to be believed in, but not feared. Silly kid, it was the same thing. Mortals very much believe in something they fear. Well, too bad for Jack. He didn't know what he was missing.

The sinister immortal had been disappointed at first, thinking- no hoping that Jack would work with him. Then maybe, just maybe his job wouldn't be so lonely. But he had covered up his slight sadness at the rejection with anger. His hopes dashed as soon as Jack had undoubtedly refused him. He was back to take out a possible friend, now an enemy, for good now.

There was maybe a tinge of revenge on his desire to end the Frost kid. Maybe just a bit. He smirked when he saw Jack turn everywhere, looking for where his voice came from. Pitch wouldn't be found as long as there were shadows, the shadows concealed him well out of the boy's sight.

Jack really couldn't find Pitch anywhere, no matter how much he tried to adjust his eyes to full darkness. Pitch could be anywhere and Jack wouldn't know until it was too late. He growled in frustration and snarled at Pitch with as much menace as he could "Where are you Pitch? Show yourself you coward!"

Pitch smiled in amusement. Jack was so much fun to mess with, but as much fun as Frost was, he reminded himself he had a schedule to keep so he talked, "Yes? What is it now? Scared yet?"

Jack was very much afraid, but he couldn't let his enemy know that. Especially if his enemy was Pitch Black, the Nightmare King whose job was to know the fears of people. Jack swallowed down the lump in his throat indicating his fear for this being was so great he could hardly speak, but he ignored the feeling and said in a surprisingly strong voice despite his fear.

"Me? Scared? Don't make me laugh! Pitiful beings like you don't scare me. I do have to wonder, though, what do you want?" The young Guardian attempted a light-hearted laugh but came out with a nervous sounding chuckle. His bravado breaking up as he caught the sense of something moving in the shadows. Those things were dangerous, more so if they were Pitch's.

Pitch neutralized his face so it showed no emotions. Of course the winter boy would make fun, it was to be expected. Not much fazed him nowadays, it was harder to impress him. This boy hadn't done that, but come close to it. He let his nightmares speak for him. He sat back to watch the show.

Said winter spirit hears what sounds like a child's scream besides him and wrenches his head around to try and sense where it was coming from, but there was only darkness. Oh, what a surprise. Above, Jack is finally able to see something besides the endless black.

The shadows wrap and twist into monstrous creatures. Then the sudden scent of rotten flesh fills the air and Jack gags. The monstrous creatures take on a more definite shape, they are birds, maybe crows, with beaks as long as his own forearm and wings so dark they seem to fade into the surrounding darkness. Now that was a surprise.

Jack felt a sudden, and somewhat expected, pain on his shoulder. He felt what was probably a crow's nails digging at his shoulder. He was getting too used to expecting getting hurt, wether it be from others or from something. The winter spirit yelped in surprised and whimpered a bit in pain. If he told anyone of this in his own perspective, he would've never admitted to have made such a sound.

"Well Jack, it has come to my attention that you're a powerful one. A very powerful one indeed, but since you made your decision, I don't want that power turned on me." Pitch's British-accented voice echoed in Jack's mind, distracting him from the pain and the monsters hiding in the shadows.

Wait what? What is he trying to say? What is he going to do to me? Think, Jack, think! What could Pitch possibly want with you if you're not his frie-. Then Jack realized it. Of course, the heartless bastard would do it. Pitch would kill him. Jack had seen enough television on his free time to know that's what villains do to their problems, they get rid of them. In essence, Pitch is getting rid of him.

Frost then heard the bone-chilling laugh that belonged to Pitch, bouncing off the walls of his mind one last time. Pitch was amused, that much Jack knew.

"Oh, so you've figured it out, haven't you? Well, I must admit. You turned out a smarter than I thought. Of course, declining my offer wasn't one of your most clever decisions. Woah, would you look at the time," Pitch said, feigning looking at a non-existent clock on his left wrist "if you'll excuse me, I must be going. After all, the end of the happy and illusioned world as we know it isn't going to happen by itself, now would it? It was fun, Jack... while it lasted."

And then he vanished from the shadows of Jack's mind, leaving the boy to ponder on what was going to happen next. Then a sudden pain on his shoulder brought him back to the maybe-crow's problem. He used his free shoulder to move it and bring his hand to the talon with razor-sharp claws digging at his shoulder. He, strangely enough, didn't feel any blood come out of the wound.

The feet of the creature felt strange, soft and cushiony. Nothing you'd expect from bird's feet. The skin was a sharp contrast of the feeling of the claws. The claws felt cold, metal cold in fact. As if the claws were really made of metal razor blades.

The creature, the crow now, I suppose, croaked the horrible sound of a screaming child. It made his subconscious hurt again, making him feel a gigantic migraine. Jack dropped to his knees, not able to stand both the pain in his head and on his shoulder. The bird kept screeching, but then others joined in as if they were a choir of demons coming to take him away.

"SHUT UP! Just, shut up the lot of you! I can't think!"

All went deadly silent once again. Jack didn't have time for this, he had to get out of here. But where is here? The winter spirit was once again distracted of his thoughts.

Nip. Jack felt a sting on his ear, as if something had nipped at it harshly. Nip. Then he felt it on his cheek. Nip. Again, on his hand now. Nip. His shoulder. Nip. There goes a strand of hair. Nip. Nip. Nip. NIP. Then he felt it all over. He saw the flash of beaks poking at his skin, as if tasting him. Nip. Nip. Nip. Nip.

He shouted out in extreme pain when one went for his eye. Oh god, his eye. It hurt so much, just so fucking much more than any other injury he's ever gotten. Nip. The blasted things were ripping of flakes of skin now, inch by inch. He then realized he was being eaten alive. One thing he never did realize, however, is that he was in a nightmare of Pitch's doing.

The young spirit suddenly remembered a really random fact he'd read somewhere. It was about how crying defies scientific explanation. Tears are only meant to lubricate the eyes, so there was no real reason for tear glands to overproduce tears at the behest of emotion.

Jack thought that people cry to release the animal parts of themselves without losing their humanity. Because inside of him is a beast that snarls, and growls, and strains toward freedom and towards life. As hard as Jack tries, he can't kill it. So he just sobs into the darkness of his mind instead.

He knew he wouldn't get out of this if he fell in, but he couldn't help but think about the hollowness that was his "life". He didn't really have anyone to truly drive the loneliness away. Sure, the Guardians have taken him under their wing, but Jack wasn't sure how long that love and trust was going to last. Yeah, it was better it ended like this. Better get out before it got bad.

One other strange thought came to his mind, why crows? Yes, those things were beastly and somewhat scary. But why a crow of all things on Earth? He wasn't very educated on symbols and what they meant, but Jack was fairly sure that crows meant either great change, or death.

The dying boy released a pained laugh. A mirthless, bordering mad, laugh. Of course, the crows meant both of these things. After all, death is a great change. The crows kept pecking at his skin like starved cannibals that had gone an eternity without meat, and now that they had it they would make the most of it.

Jack's vision was fading, at least all the vision left in his good eye. One especially annoying crow went for his one good eye left, and he was submerged in a world of darkness and pain, closing his eyes for one last time he rasped out "Sorry".

Sorry for what, he didn't know. Perhaps for giving up so easily? Then again, who'd care if he did. He let the darkness and pain envelop his whole being and Jack Frost was no more.

M/N: You may kill me now.

Rant. Starts. NOW. You may skip it if you don't wanna read more unnecessary paragraphs and perhaps, review? Yes? No? Okay. RANT:

Fuck the teaser. We're not going with that anymore. I will sometime in the future replace the teaser with this chapter, for now enjoy and keep re-reading. I should have never posted anything in the first place... hey I warned you, my plans change. A lot.

Now, shiznit. I'm such a liar. Such a godamned liar. I apologize that "soon" didn't come quite so soon. Psh, soon my arse. Frickin' writer's block is what I have. A disease, that horrible thing is, I tell you. A disease for writers to not be able to write anything for hellish days, sometimes weeks. If it's bad, it lasts months. I am undeserving of the readers who like this at all. Even the tiniest bit of interest makes me want to cry and tell you just how undeserving I am of you.

Seriously though 19,000 views and counting? Astounding to such an awkward author as myself.

I have found that making this story is extremely difficult. I had fun with it, yes. It tires my mind though. If you must know I'm a student that has homework every. single. night. (Not even mentioning the holiday homework) Coming up with ideas and turning them into clever words is something I need to work on, apparently.

I also severely apologize for not ever really explaining the first chapter, since if I had really taken the time to explain that it would've taken me way longer to update. I don't even know why the first chapter is there. Ignore it, just kindda go along with this author's crazy tendencies. Oh, and I quoted some parts of Veronica Roth's "Divergent" and "Insurgent". I just thought some of her things fitted this story. So there.

Hey dear Guest who said they didn't want to read this story anymore because I was demanding for people to review. If it makes you happy I've taken out anything in my author's notes that you might feel like is trying to force you to review. I'm sorry for the inconvenience and about the fact that I disgust you. But that's your problem, not mine. Next time if it bothers you so much, ignore the author's notes okay?

Even though you guys have made an insomniac outta me I'll sure as hell will try my hardest to SLEEP. Wish me happy dreams.

One more thing, if you stuck around to read the whole thing... I seriously can't thank you enough. You don't know what it means to me that you like this at all. So with all of my heart I will write this with as much emotion as possible that you can see on a screen:

Thank you.