A Touch of Fear

By: frosted-wolf

Indeed my little monsters, wolfie is back. I am still writing "When Nightmares are Present", but I decided to pick up another story as well. I feel like I did a poor job personifying Pitch in that fic- I made him too sadistic, almost insane- when in reality he is the king of darkness… a calm collected man who means business.

Now, as far as warnings go, this story will be rated M. Torture, blood, sexual harassment, all that jazz. So if you no likey, no read.

Enjoy the short introduction to what might become my favorite fic I have ever written…

They all stood, gathered in the central plaza of Tooth Palace. All five guardians and Pitch were rigid with anxiety and anger. Tooth floated slightly above the ground, her wings flapping frantically as she contemplated what decision she should make. North scratched his beard with one hand and fondled his sword with the other. Bunnymund tapped his foot irritably, his ears twitching in agitation. Sandy, using only his expressions to portray his mood as always- stood with his arms crossed and brows furrowed. Jack was wringing his hands.

All was silent for several long minutes, the lack of speaking causing Pitch to tap his foot in annoyance.

Finally, he spoke. "I would decide if I were you… the magical barrier holding you in here will not last forever. It will break, exploding the Palace and all its occupants. Except me, of course." Pitch grinned, taking a step forward. His hands were clasped behind his back and his onyx robes cascaded down his thin yet muscular frame onto the floor. As he walked the black fabric moved in waves, giving the illusion that the man was walking on darkness.

Clank.

Jack's staff dropped to the ground with a thud. He put his hands in he hoodie pocket and stepped forward over his fallen weapon.

"I'll do it." He said in a strong voice, purposefully not looking the other guardians in the eye as to not see their reaction. "I'll become your prisoner. Just don't hurt them."

The last Jack heard of his comrades before being consumed by darkness was their pleas of horror, and Pitch's subtle chuckling.

"Whip him again,"

The crack of leather against flesh echoed throughout the hallways, ringing in Pitch's ears like a lullaby. Pitch hummed quietly to himself, rolling his eyes. He sat atop his tall-backed throne, his head placed lazily on his hand. In front of him was Jack Frost. The frost spirit was on his knees, back towards the elder. His arms were raised slightly above his head, thick chains restraining his wrists to a metal pole in the center of the throne room. A nightguard stood behind Jack with a whip made of nightmaresand and fear raised at the ready. The boy's back was bloodied to the point that it covered his pale skin completely, dripping slowly onto the floor where his knees were bent. His sides heaved, but he did not cry out. His fists clenched.

Pitch was growing irritated with the lack of response from the boy; after all the was supposed to be a punishment. The boy was taking it as if it were nothing but a string being flung across his back.

"You know, Jack," Pitch said, raising his head up. The man stood up slowly, but did not walk down the black marble stares that led from his throne to the dark floor of the throne room. "If I find that the punishments I assign you for your unruly behavior are not working, I will have to resort to…" he placed a foot on the first step. "more drastic measures."

Jack laughed, chuckled actually. The chains clanked as his body shook. He turned his head over his shoulder to look at Pitch, a grin plastered to his face.

"You know old man, I appreciate your use of medieval torture techniques," Jack paused to wipe his bloody nose on his shoulder. "but don't you think it would be fun to just have at it? Ya'know, like hit each other until one of us drops? Ha, now that's my kind of-"

"Take him to his cell. Tie his wrists and ankles to the bedposts. Do not feed or water him for three days." Pitch said abruptly, still standing with one foot on the first step and another on the throne pedestal. Jack's mouth shut slowly, his head turning back to the front of his body.

Nothing this man can do will break me. I chose this to save my friends, and I will make it out alive.

I hope you liked this! Please let me know, and review with ideas for plot advancement! I love to hear from you guys!

~Wolfie