Hi! It's my first time writing a fan fiction, so I hope you like it! I haven't read the book series The Guardians of Childhood, but I read about how Pitch became the Boogeyman in the Internet, and it made me pity him even more than just after seeing the movie. So, I wanted to give him a happy ending, and this is it!

Chapter 1

After being carried in the whirlwind of his nightmares, Pitch got dragged across the frozen ground and entered his cave. The black sand crashed and thrust itself against the rough walls of the cave, knocking him from all sides. The nightmares threw him, splattering him on the floor. He groaned slightly. Dust and dir covered his robe, torn to show his pale grey skin. His face became tattered and rugged like a coarse grain. The usually well-kept hair was shabby, strands of hair bouncing out-of-order. Coughing, he wearily grabbed the ground, barely supporting himself. Clenching his teeth, he stood up, leaning against the cold dark walls. Breathing heavily, he calmly straightened his robe with his shaking hands. He watched as the shadows from behind him sneaked along his hands and slithered down to the torn areas of his robe, patching his robe until it looked new again. Turning his dismissive eyes away, he ran his long slim fingers through his hair and neatly smoothed his hair out. He looked up as a small opening cracked in the ceiling. The moonlight shined upon the cold dark cave, creating layers of shadow and life. The Moon revealed itself.

Pitch glared up at the Moon, and then burst out into laughter. He sighed in a pathetic tone. He seethed, "Are you satisfied, now that you used me to make people realize what happiness is?" He dramatically put his hand on his chest with wide distressed eyes. He chuckled after his short farcical play.

Immediately, his face fell, only his gleaming eyes visible through the dark face. "Why do you waste so much time and energy with those ignorant brats? No matter how many times you use fear to make them realize the true value of happiness, they will never learn! Yet, you still choose to manipulate their minds with your little trickery, the parade of the fools! And for every single time, I help you with your grand show! You tricked me to side with you so that you could use me only as your tool! Until when, when must I suffer hatred and loneliness because of you?" He glared up at the Moon. "You are useless! You are the only reason for my misery! You- !" His voice broke, but there was not a trace of single drop of tear. Instead, the defiant scowl from his eyes bore through the Moon.

The Moon replied, "Who are you?"

The fire in his eyes disappeared. He casted his eyes down and turned his back toward the Moon. He closed his eyes and slowly formed his words. He whispered, "You have asked, said, those words, only those words, to me for centuries. I cannot remember any other words coming from you."

Frowning, he shouted, "And every time, the question…the question! The question is always left without an answer, an echo without a reply. I repeatedly asked myself the question, but my answers never satisfy you! I am the Boogeyman! I am the Fear that lies in every human's heart! I am the darkness! I am the reason those weaklings cringe in the corner during the darkest hours! I am Pitch Black! What would I be without that? I have always existed with this clothe, this dark cave, these cages, these cold walls, and these shadows! The shadows enshroud me, live and breathe within me!" He panted, and catching his breath, he murmured, "Without them, I am nothing. I am no one. They are the only things that ever see me… Who am I?"

Pitch's eyes locked on the Moon desperately, begging for mercy, but the Moon only shone down passively. He shut his eyes firmly, clenching his fists. He turned back, his robe sweeping behind.

The Moon responded, "You never lose your power."

Pitch froze. He whipped back and pointed at the Moon. "What? Never lose my power? Never? How can you be so ignorant! You are the one who always takes my powers away even after I serve you!"

The Moon echoed, "You never lose your power."

Stunned, Pitch dropped his hand and remained quiet. He stared at the Moon with a slight frown. Looking away, his eyes fidgeted. Slowly, his eyes grew wide with genuine sparkle. His mouth opened slightly. "You're right. Numerous times I've been dragged to this place after battles, but I never really completely lost my power. Tiny, but it is still there. That's how I was always able to come back up to the world. And my powers, my powers are only based upon belief! Even you can't take it away from me as long as there is one person that believes in me!" He laughed, "Even now, I still have my powers! See! Look! I can still control my shadows!" A black intricate whirl twirled from the ground, a black rose blossoming in the end. His eyes narrowed. "This means that right now, there is at least one person who believes in me right now, this instant! I must find the person!"

The Moon stepped aside, letting a long thin shadow to form in the crack. Grinning widely, he dissolved into the shadow and slipped to the surface. The crack immediately closed after him. Forming one nightmare, he steered it toward where the smell of fear was coming from. With a shrill whine, the nightmare took off, flying and sweeping through the icy cold wind. Pitch leaned forward, staring only straight forward. The Moon hid behind the cloud, allowing the darkness to hide their form. They galloped through the dark into a remote countryside in England.

As soon as the nightmare set its hooves on the ground, the nightmare dispersed into the air and Pitch collapsed. Lifting his eyes from the ground, he saw an old building with a large rusty iron gate that read "The Home for Orphans of Cotswold". The building was worn down with weariness. The laggard wooden plank dragged its arm with low melancholy whistle. The torn off paints shuddered in the cold wind. The windows were crooked, hinges barely hanging on. Cold darkness whispered between the old cracks in the wall.

Groaning, he let his head fall onto the ground with a soft thump. He hugged the warm soil that even the cold wind could not touch. His hand shook, clawing feebly at the soil. His heart quickened at his endless attempts to move. Taking in a quick sharp breath, he gritted his teeth and finally sat up, his arms bristling. He released his breath and stared hard at the building. All of the windows were black, except for one. A feeble light reflected one window, a sphere of light constantly moving across the wall. With a slight nod, he vanished into his own shadow. He reappeared in front of a small bed in a room, leaning heavily on the wall. The room was lined with beds with young children sound asleep, except for one.

A little girl huddled against the bed plank, clutching to her worn thin blanket. There was an exhausted flashlight in her tiny hands. The lights darted here and there, and then it suddenly stopped. The weak light circled on his feet. Both his gaze and her eyes focused on the two black feet. Turning his gaze to her frightened face, he slipped his feet away from the light. Her eyes grew wide. The light immediately flitted again. This time, it landed on his golden eyes. Both froze. The light started to rattle and flutter. He quirked a smile and softly chuckled, "I guess I found the right person."

She gulped. Holding the flashlight tightly with her both hands, she slightly leaned forward, her eyes intently looking into his golden eyes. A small cringe formed in his forehead and he scanned the little girl. The small girl was about six or seven years old. She was wearing a frail white dress and a worn grey cardigan. Her fingernails were blue from the cold, but her face bloomed with healthy pale white, full of life and light. Her steadfast eyes were golden-yellow. The flowing and vibrant black hair lined along her high cheek bones. He tore his gaze away from her and coughed. From the corners of his eyes, he saw the little girl was still staring right into him. Licking her lips nervously, she whispered, "Pitch? Pitch Black?"

He remained quiet, looking at her eyes again. He gave a silent nod, his eyes never leaving her face. The girl cracked a sad smile. She climbed to the other end of the bed, closer to Pitch, and sat cross-legged. Both stared at each other, one with odd amusement and the other with curiosity. She opened her mouth, but closed it and frowned. Then, lifting her eyebrows into a high arch, she asked, "Why are you here?"

"What is your name?"

The girl looked back at him with only one eyebrow arched. Cocking her head, she questioned, "Why aren't you answering my question? It's not that hard to answer."

He smiled, and with his smooth calm voice, he answered, "I will answer your question once you answer mine."

She gave a delightful peal of laughter and her eyes smiled up to him. "Pitch, you never keep a promise. But whatever, I'll go along with your game. My name is Kostusia Pitchiner. My first name Kostusia is Latin and it means steadfast. Pretty cool name, huh?"

He let out a breath of mirth, looking at the girl with light in his eyes. Crossing his arm across his chest, he mumbled, "Kostusia Pitchiner… What an odd resonance…"

The girl held up her finger and tooted, "Promise is a promise. Now hurry up and answer my question, please."

Frowning, he blankly articulated, "I was about to until your impatient mouth babbled. Furthermore, I do keep my promise, little girl." She looked at him with small frown and a corner of her mouth pulled into a sarcastic smile. "Well, I DO…some times." Relaxing her face, she gave him an approving nod. Clearing his throat, he continued to speak. "You are the only one that believes in me in this world right now. Y- you are the reason I haven't lost my power right now. I guess I was curious about who still believes in me, so I suppose I came here." The girl remained quiet and returned his words with concentrated stare. Looking away from her innocent bright eyes, he muttered, "I guess I should say t-thank…you…"

Her face lit up, a wide grin spreading. "You're not half bad as I thought. You will never disappear, Pitch. So don't worry too much. There will always be darkness and fear in every child's heart. It's just the matter of whether can you embrace and acknowledge them."

He looked at her with a start. "What do you mean? Aren't children all about joy and wonder and innocence? How can there be fear and darkness?"

She gave him a melancholy smile. "Just look around you. There are children who their own parents left them. They cannot see through the misty dark fog that covers their eyes. And they are only meager part of the whole. Go around a city into the dark corner alleyways, the children without homes quivering in the cold on the ground. Go to any poor countries and look into the eyes of the children. They will be the same eyes of the children here: the misty dark fog covering their eyes. The truly innocent and wondrous children are very few percentage of the entire world. But even those, once they grow up and hustle along, the concept of innocence becomes only an improbable dream."

He slowly turned around and examined the little children trembling in the cold, grabbing tightly to their frail blankets. One child gripped his pillow, quietly forming a word with shuddering longing. He brought his legs closer to his body, making himself into a little ball. Their eyes never opened. They were shut tight, blocking out the cold reality.

Indifferently, he turned his attention back to Kostusia. "If that is so, why is it that I have been defeated by the Guardian- do you know the Guardians?"

"Yes, I do. You are defeated because no matter how much their eyes are clouded with tears, they are still children. They cling to hope and light more desperately than adults. Even a flash of spark causes fire in their hearts because they are more vulnerable. That is not possible to adults for their minds became enclosed, unable to see beyond what their eyes can see, relying only on reasons and logic, closing their hearts and minds with iron gate, firmly believing that is the intellectual way."

He blinked. Releasing his crossed arms, he put his hand on his chin and his other hand pointed accusingly at her. With a menacing grin, his words slithered into the air, "Well well well, aren't you a smart girl? But what makes you so different from them?" He flourished his both hands to the other children in the room. "After all, you are in the same pit as them, abandoned by your own parents and left to be in this freezing hell with rotten old woods as your only barrier against the blazing winter wind."

She smiled in return to his words, "My eyes are not clouded." His face fell. "I am not intimidated by your words."

With an inquisitive look, he implored, "Then what was the fear I sensed that came from you? It was the fear of fear itself. Where has that fear gone now?"

She cast her eyes down and started to fidget with her fingers. "Afraid of fear itself…Yes, I guess it can be called like that. I was scared that I would never be able to meet my father again."

He crossed his arms again and cocked his head. "Isn't that the fear of every child in here? Why are you the only one awake right now?"

She lifted her eyes back to him. She crossed her hands on her laps. Her voice became firm and sound. "I know my father is alive. I know who my father is, how he looks like, how he talks, how he moves, how much I mean to him. That is what makes me different from them. That is why my eyes couldn't be shut. I know that my father exists, able to be touched, able to look into his brilliant eyes."

She stood up from her bed and went right in front of him. Cautiously, she reached for his hand. His eyes followed her. Slowly spreading her fingers, she wrapped her hand around his bony finger. Haltingly, her anxious golden eyes lifted up and met with his calm golden eyes. She place her other hand into his palm, squeezing.

"And I was fearful of never seeing him again, of him never coming to me."

He looked at their intertwining hands and gazed back to the girl's pale skin, black hair, and golden eyes. Her eyes shone with so much joy and delight, relief washing over like wave of the sea.

"I see him, but I am not sure if he remembers me. He looks so unsure, confused like a child lost in a deep dark forest. I want to go into the forest, grab his cold forgotten hands, and lead him back out, more than anything in the whole world. But, the child has to find his own path or else he will get lost again."

His calm eyes turned quizzical, almost tormenting. He stared hard at her face again, trying figure out these little riddles formed in her shaky voice. But nothing came up to his mind, nothing but pitch black darkness. He frowned and looked away, gulping in anxiety.

Kostusia pressed on, "My father once was a brilliant man, honored by everyone. But he was never proud; he was a humble and noble man. He had pride in nothing but his beloved daughter, who he loved with all his heart. He would do anything for her. But, his duty was to guard a prison with creatures of darkness that eat away the light. They were sly, cunning, and shrewd. They fooled my father and they devoured his soul and his heart, leaving nothing but a black hole in its place. But human are not weak to succumb to darkness. There still is light, a feeble fire waiting for a match, to be rejoiced and hugged by warmth again."

He pulled his hand away from her grip, his breath pacing faster than ever. His eyes darted all around, searching and digging. What does she mean?! Why is she telling me all this!? He clutched over his heart, gasping for breath. Grabbing his hair in dire frustration, he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. A Light, that is what I need to find! Where is the Light?!

A girl. She is young, about six or seven years old, wearing a clean white dress, teasing her legs with the wind. She radiates pale light, like a vibrant and lively music drifting in the air, invisible but everywhere. Her black hair flows with the wind. Her shining golden eyes look up and laugh with pure joy and happiness. Her hand holds a little white flower. A soft and calm laughter of a man joins the scene, causing the young girl to smile brighter. A golden butterfly dances and softly lands on the white flower. Her black eyes go wide and with her tiny hand, she points at the butterfly. The girl whispers, "Look daddy, a butterfly on my flower!" A hand appears and pats her head gently. "The butterfly saw your bright smile and wanted to share your happiness, Kostusia."

Pitch flashed his eyes open. His golden eyes softly radiated light, brightening the darkness that covered his surroundings. His breath slowed, blending into the stillness of the night. He slowly dropped his hands to his side. Carefully, he faced Kostusia. His shaking eyes met the firmed gaze of Kostusia. He kneeled in front of her. He brought his hands to her face tentatively. His deft fingers touched her pale warm skin. He looked at his hand and clenched his hand. Then, his shaking fingers took strands of her black hair in between, smoothly running over them. His eyes went back to hers, almost brimming with tears. His mouth gaped, but no sound came out. Quickly, he embraced her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, tears pouring into his robe. He sniffed into her clothes. Worn and thin images fled by his eyes: Kostusia sleeping soundly with warm covers, the two strolling around hands held in a sunny day with cool breeze tickling their nose, her brilliant laughing in front of the crackling fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate in her tiny hands, her monotonous face in front of her mother's grave, her heartbreaking cries as he promised to come back, him looking into her picture with weary eyes in front of the cage full of dark evil creatures, and his last desperate glimpse of her picture as Fearlings' whispers and temptations engulfed him whole.

PANG! Pitch broke away from her hug. He folded over on his stomach. His head started to ring, blurring his vision. His eyes lost focus and he started to panic. He gasped out "help, help, please help" between his ragged breath. Kostusia grabbed his hands tightly, trying to meet his fidgeting eyes. Dark shadows ripped and scratched his glowing memories. He closed his eyes desperately, trying in vain to grip at the memories slipping past his bony fingers. The shadows stripped their naked eyes open that was stinging with hollow red fury. Their jagged claws slashed at his memories, plaguing the light with eerie cold darkness. Pitch screamed, yelled, and shrieked for it to stop, let him be alone, to free him of their shackles. The Fearlings only laughed menacingly, destroying faster with absolute delight.

Pitch opened his eyes. He could barely see Kostusia, only her silhouette. He reached out for her, his hands groping at the air. Kostusia grabbed his hand, and put something around his neck. With his other hand, he fumbled around his neck, grabbing the object firmly. The nightmares appeared from the shadows, pinning Pitch to the floor. They harassed him, kicking him and taking out the air in his lungs. He never lost sight of Kostusia. They grabbed and started to drag him into the wall. He clung at the floor, and shouted, "I WILL COME BACK! THIS IS A PROMISE! A PROMISE I WILL KEEP! IT MIGHT TAKE LONG, BUT PLEASE WAIT FOR ME! I WILL COME BACK MY DEAR KOSTUSIA!"

Kostusia burst into tears, and, as she nodded, screamed, "I am always waiting for you daddy!"

Pitch smiled before he was yanked into the shadows, disappearing from her sight. The children woke up found tears rolling down her pale cheek drained of life. Some grumbled and lay back to the bed with the cover over their heads. The others whispered to each other and merely shrugged, eventually lying back to the bed again. She kept on looking at the wall, her shadow trembling with the feeble light. Looking at the window, she saw the Moon was a light, shining down its pale blue rays.

"How long will it take this time?" she whispered, "It was about 800 years this time. Is this your curse upon me? Make me immortal and pain me to wait for this one day, only to be taken away by the dark creation of the universe? What good does it make that I am the Mother Nature if I cannot even help my own father free his soul?" She stared at the Moon, waiting for a reply that never came. She softly laughed, "You tell me about everything except about my father, but I understand. I can wait because I'm immortal. No, I will wait because he is my father. Moreover…" She looked up at the Moon with brightly shining eyes that even the brightest moonlight looked dark. "Moreover, he finally looked at me, touched me…He remembered me!" She smiled.

Well this is it for now! I planned to make this story only 2 chapters because I don't think I'm really ready for long story just yet. So, the next chapter will be the end, even though I don't know when I will upload it because this chapter took me so long.

I hope you enjoyed my writing! It's my first time putting my work into the public, so it's very nerve wrecking for me (nervous laugh). I tried to make my writing into third person objective point of view instead of the usual omniscient point of view. That's mostly the reason why my writing is so long and dragged on, because I need to describe almost every little behavior a character does and every little thing of the character's background. I guess I'm trying to achieve telling a movie in words, if that makes sense.

Sorry for my drabbling. Please comment about what you think about my writing (It would really help me with my next chapter and my future stories!) Thank you to all who read my story!