A Trapped Winter Spirit - completed

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ: ᴛʜʀᴏᴡɴ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴄᴏᴜʀꜱᴇ

Jack's POV:

Its impossible to believe this. Tooth and the Guardians can talk to me! That means they can probably find me, right?

A warm feeling shot through my banged-up body. I haven't felt this way since... well, forever. How am I meant to know what it means? I can't remember the last time I felt like this. Even though it feels like centuries, I know it hasn't been.

I searched my thoughts. It would help me pass the time if I could figure out what this warm feeling was called. It wasn't the rush of excitement I got from snowballing kids or freezing drinking fountains. But that was the rush I usually got. It could only be... the thought of hope. The thought of freedom...

The door to my cell is thrown open and Pitch Black, in his long robe, comes into the room. He looks absolutely furious.

"Jack, Jack, Jack..." he says, pacing back and forth.

"What?" I say, my voice less raspy since he's let me rest my throat for a while. I'm beginning to feel a little like my old self now, especially after the warm rush. "Gotten bored of being a bastard and decided to beat up a defenceless teenager again?"

His head snaps towards me, more surprised then anything. He takes a few steps towards me, and I don't even flinch. Then I realise... I'm not afraid. He doesn't scare me anymore.

"What did you just say?" he says coldly.

"You heard me," I say.

"I did notice something different about you..." He crouches directly in front of me, his golden eyes aligned with my blue eyes. I didn't look away, not this time. Instead, I stared determinedly into him. I'm going to show him he can't scare me. Not anymore.

"The usual aura of fear you had... its gone..." He reaches out to touch my face, but I edge out of his touch.

"Don't touch me," I spat. "Don't touch me ever again."

Pitch sighs and stands up. "Looks like the Guardians have managed to give you hope once again. I might just have to work harder this time, Jack."

Using the last bits of my strength, I pull myself to my feet using the restraints that resided on my wrists. I made sure the words I said were so confident that even I would believe them. "You can't break me, Pitch. No matter what you do, I'll always have hope. The Guardians will find me, and they will free me. And when they do, I'll inflict the same amount of pain that I gained here on you."

Pitch's hand snaked up my arm and rested on my shoulder blade. I chew on the inside of my cheek because that's where a large, purple bruise was, and Pitch knew it. He kept continuous eye contact with me the whole time. And I didn't look away.

"You think you'll believe that, but when I'm done with you," he laughed, "you won't even remember why you ever believed in them. Because they aren't coming, Jack. I can't wait for the day when you wake up and realise that."

He dug his hand and his long, black nails into my bruise and I slide down the brick wall in order to get away. Screaming in agony. My heart thuds against my chest and I feel all my bravado vanish. So did the warm feeling. Gone as fast as it came. I felt the familiar cold and empty feeling take its place in my heart once again.

With a chuckle, he turned around and left me in the dark, cold room. Like he always did when he was satisfied with my pain.

You know, maybe I was wrong. So what if the Guardians can talk to me? That doesn't mean they're coming, or that they can even find me. And besides, they lost me once. Even if they do get here, could they fight Pitch and his nightmares off? They couldn't once, so how could they next time.

Was it worth it, all the pain and misery, to keep the hope?