I do not own Rise of the Guardians or Guardians of Childhood. They belong to DreamWorks and William Joyce. Nor do I own the song Hellfire, which this was based on. It belongs to Disney.

"Please, just a breeze, a breath of fresh air. That is all we ask."

The cries went ignored, as a man clad in a black and gold uniform sat beside the prison door, reading a book. He grit his teeth, but other-wise showed no indication he even heard the fearling. This was quickly becoming the daily routine.

The man in question was no ordinary guard. A slender, sharp face was framed by soft black hair cropped short, and honey yellow eyes sparkled brightly above a long nose. Bearing the proud name of Kozmotis Pitchiner, the Golden General was the only man the Constellations trusted to guard the lead prison of the fearlings and nightmare men.

So there he sat, attempting to read, guarding the entrance. Every day was the same basic routine, the only difference being what the General would do to pass the time while there. Some days he would read. Some he would write in a log. Others he would train to keep his body in shape, should anything happen. But mostly he would stand in front of the door, his guard up, trying desperately to ignore the ravings behind him.

The prison itself was made entirely of lead. No light could penetrate it's walls, and any coming from the inside was quickly drowned out. The whole place emanated evil, and the constant moaning and ravings and pleadings were enough to send any man mad.

But Kozmotis persevered. Aided by the memories and virtues he held dear, somehow he was able to get up each morning and guard the hellhole of a black hole. And each morning, the fearlings, the nightmare men, the space pirates, they all tried harder to drive him insane.

And one day, they succeeded.

The had read over the General's shoulder whenever he wrote in his logs and journals. They had seen the locket he clung to desperately with the photograph of the girl inside. They knew it was now time.

Kozmotis was looking at the photograph in the locket, reminding himself why, and who, he protected by accepting this job. He missed his daughter greatly, and he took solace in knowing she was far away from this prison, safe with her grandparents raising her. He missed her so much he could almost hear her voice.

"Daddy?"

Wait, did he really just hear her voice? Or was it his mind playing tricks on him? He rubbed at his ears and cracked his neck before straightening up. Then he heard it again.

"Daddy?"

No.. it couldn't be her, the sound came from behind him.

"Daddy? Where are you? It's dark."

Kozmotis stiffened, the voice coming from inside the prison.

"I'm scared Daddy!"

He grit his teeth. It was a trick, it had to be. There was no way his precious daughter could have gotten inside the prison!

"Daddy!"

Right?

"Please Daddy, help me!"

Kozmotis turned his head slightly and looked into the prison, his eyes wide and face contorting in panic. He could see her, standing near the door, cowering from the fearlings around her, long black hair hiding part of her face.

"No.. my daughter!" he cried out, flinging himself to the bars of the door. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"Let me out daddy! Please! I'm scared!"

Kozmotis searched hurriedly through his key ring, dropping the silver locket in the process. He had to get her out! He couldn't bear the thought of losing her! His wife was already gone, he couldn't lose her too. He found the correct key and unlocked the door.

"Daddy is here hun, you'll be okay." he cried to her, running forward and enveloping her in a hug.

Then he realized what he had done.

It was too late.

The fearlings rushed him, flying over and around, confusing his senses. He looked to the girl in his arms, and saw the fearling for what it truly was. It smiled at him with pointy teeth, then burst through and into his chest. The General screamed, and more fearlings followed the first, engulfing the poor man.

The burning! The pain! It was as though liquid fire was pouring into his chest. He could hear their voices in his head, trying to take over his mind. He couldn't allow that, not yet. Pitchiner forced himself to stand and rush out the door, down the steps to the gatehouse he lived in. He had to set the alarm, warn the Constellations what was happening. He all but fell the last few stairs, and stumbled through the door of the gatehouse nursing a twisted arm from the fall.

"No, this can't be happening. It's not my fault, it's not my fault, this shouldn't happen!" he cried to himself, head starting to hurt as the fearlings fought his incredible will. More fearlings poured into the gatehouse after him, blinding him to prevent him reaching the alarm. Pitchiner tried his hardest, and the alarm was just out of reach. If only he could move a few more steps forward, he wouldn't need to see to smash it down. But his feet felt heavy as lead, he could barely move them as more and more fearlings crowded around him.

Then he collapsed, clutching his head in agony. He wasn't strong enough. Kozmotis screamed in pain, praying to any entity out there to make the fearlings stop, ward them off, to protect the universe from what had been set loose. He felt like his head would split in two.

And then it stopped.

Pitchiner opened his eyes and let go of his head. He was on the ground in the gatehouse, the fearlings no-where in immediate sight. Jumping to his feet, he looked out the door and around the gatehouse, drawing his sword then ran up the stairs to the door of the prison.

There, the door was open. There was no-one inside. Then Kozmotis remembered the locket. He searched his pockets, searched the ground, looked everywhere he could in desperation. But he could not find the locket of his daughter Serephina.

And then the pain returned.

It started slow, starting at his toes and spreading up, the liquid fire inside filling him up. And this time he knew nothing could stop it.

He collapsed once more to the ground, panting as the pain reached his stomach. He could feel the fear slowly taking his mind as well. The sword in his hand clattered to the ground as well.

"Please Constellations, forgive me for what I have done. Please protect my daughter, and have mercy on me..."

His prayer went unheard, and the pain was now over his chest. His whole body spasmed, and Kozmotis closed his eyes as he felt the shadow take over the last of his mind, his will to fight it off no more. Then his body stilled.

When again he opened his eyes, he was General Kozmotis Pitchiner no longer. He began to chuckle, and rose to his feet, taking in his surroundings. He then threw his head back and laughed harder, a dark, evil laughter that shook the lead walls around him.

He was now Pitch Black, King of Nightmares. And nothing was going to stop his revenge.

Read and review, I would love some constructive criticism!