A Trapped Winter Spirit - completed

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇᴛᴇᴇɴ: ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴘɪᴛᴄʜ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ

Dark Jack's POV:

I grinned at the Guardians, all defeated around me. Bunny lying with one of his legs bent awkwardly by the wall. Sandy unconscious with one of my nightmare horses standing guard by him in case he woke. And of course North, who had one of his swords impaled in his shoulder. They were all in pain.

I loved it. Every freaking second of it.

Still, I felt a little sick in the stomach. My weaker, stupider part was trying to get out. He wanted his body back. And I would let him, eventually. Then he'd see the world he cared for so much in ruins, coated in our power.

I looked around, my eyes scanning for the Tooth Fairy. That little pest has my staff! She didn't lose it once, as if my most important possession was her top priority. She had every reason to keep it from me – since it was the one thing that could make me more powerful – but she still has no right. But she was nowhere to be seen.

I screamed in rage. All my nightmare horses snapped their heads towards me in attention, their empty eyes looking at me for what to do. Alas, I didn't want anything from them. They were too stupid to look for her, and if they went out of my range, they'd turn back to dust. Besides, I needed them to help me with the Guardians here.

I punched the concrete wall. Again and again. I didn't feel it, but my knuckles cracked loudly. I think I may have broken them. Well, that's a problem for goody-goody Jack Frost. He'd be feeling it right now. And imagine when he comes back into his own body and sees what he's done!

After everything I had done to defeat the Guardians, the one I actually wanted to beat wasn't even here. Where the hell did she go?

"Jack Frost," says a voice. A dark, cold, familiar voice. The voice I – no, old Jack Frost – had grown to fear. The voice I do not anymore.

3rd Person POV:

Pitch Black stepped out of the shadows, now completely healed. He looked as strong and powerful as ever. Just looking at him made a part of Dark Jack want to run away, escape into the night. But no, that part of him was locked away and he was staying that way.

"You..." Dark Jack seethed, his bloody fists balling up tight. Old memories flooded back in on him like a wave. Being tied to that brick wall, bleeding and bruised and scared. Cowering before this bastard while he fed on Jack's fear.

Dark Jack let out another roar of pure rage. His hands flew forward, ordering the nightmares standing idle to attack. They charged, ready to fulfil their master's wishes, but Pitch simply swept his hand out and they collapsed into black dust.

He looked very unimpressed. He even yawned!

And that only made Dark Jack angrier. "Do I have to beat you up again? Get out of here while you still can, Pitch Black."

"I don't think so, dear Jack," said Pitch. "You had the drop on me last time, but you won't now. You're... weaker then I thought you'd be, but oh well."

"I'm weaker? I'm weaker? Ha!" Dark Jack laughed, throwing his hands out to his sides, gesturing to the Guardians lying injured around him. "I've done what you could only dream of! Look around you, old man. I'm everything you are and more."

Pitch rolled his eyes. "Fool. If there's anything you have more then me, it's ego. Don't worry, dear boy, I was just like that once upon a time. Back in the Dark Ages. And how well did that work out for me?"

Dark Jack's stance was still defensive, as if he were expecting Pitch to attack. Little did he know, that wasn't at all Tooth's plan. No, she had something better in mind.

While all this was happening, the real Jack was still trapped in Dark Jack's head. His luck was much better then that of the Guardians. He didn't fully understand what was going on, but he was totally mesmerised.

The walls of that strange place were the most beautiful shade of blue. The colour of Jack's snow magic. He hadn't seen that colour in so long – since being in Pitch's captivity and without his precious stage – and it brought tears to his eyes. They slid down his cheeks as he reached out to touch the surface again.

But he never got the chance.