Nightmares

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Narrative

The winter in Burgess had finally fallen, much to the delight of the children. They had played around in the snow all day, laughing and rolling around under the weak sunlight. Shadows did not scare the children then-the children were happy and not afraid of anything because it was daytime and they were with their friends.

However, nighttime soon approached, and the places the children once occupied were as silent as the grave. The whole town was, actually-on occasion a dog would bark, or a car would drive down the street, but other than that it was quiet. The shadows stretched menacingly, making anyone out alone at night instantly cautious, and perhaps afraid.

A dark figure emerged from the shadows on the corner of a street lined with houses-coincidentally in front of Arabella de Moray's house, but the figure did not know that just yet. A closer look at the figure would reveal that he was gray-skinned, and his eyes were a haunting shade of gold. His black hair almost blended with the shadows that seemed to form around him, and his long black cloak would seem to almost be made of shadows. Horses appeared next to the strange man, but they are not regular horses-they seemed to be made of a strange substance, and they are completely black with glowing orange eyes.

The man is Pitch Black, The Nightmare King, and the horses are his Nightmares.

Pitch seemed to disappear into the shadows again, and silently he appeared in the leftmost second floor window of the house across of Arabella's, looking down at the sleeping child in the bed in front of him, an evil smirk on his face.

Pitch Black P.O.V.

The child in front of me had already been granted with one of Sandman's dreams-the sand above his head showed that the little boy was dreaming about playing with a dog. I clasped my hands behind my back, smirking at the nice little dream, knowing immediately how I could destroy it. 

I chuckled softly, so I did not wake the child up. "What a nice dream, hmm? It would be a shame if someone were to...ruin it." At the last statement I chuckled again, touching the small dog made of golden sand. The dog seemed to whimper, and then it morphed into a huge wolf, snarling at the little dream boy. The golden dream was now black, and I heard the child grumble a little in his sleep. The wolf started chasing the boy, and the boy was running as hard as he could, yet the wolf nipped at his heels. The sleeping child started to groan louder, and I laughed, saying, "Yes, scream for me!"

Then the child did scream, quite loudly, much to my amusement, and I could not help but laugh again. But then I heard footsteps from down the hall, most likely the boy's father. "Oh, and here you come to ruin all the fun!" I muttered, snarling slightly, and I disappeared into the shadows, reappearing onto the dark street just as the light in the child's room came on; the father waked the boy, and the boy started to shake as the father held him. I sighed, feeling unsatisfied.

My favorite reaction was when the child screamed and screamed, yet no one heard them and they would have to suffer. Opportunities like that rarely happened, but when they did they were absolutely perfect.

I turned to the house across from the one I just visited, and I felt a familiar presence there. I frowned slightly, because I did not remember knowing any of the children that I have given nightmares to, so I was naturally curious.

I disappeared into the shadows again, reappearing in the top floor of the house where the presence seemed to be. The room I was in looked like a girl's room, but surprisingly the colors were rather dark. The walls were adorned with drawings-more like sketches, actually. Curiously, I inspected them. I was startled when I saw one of the drawings was of a Nightmare, and another was of myself, wearing my classic smirk. Still others were vague images of the rest of the Guardians, and most of them were of Jack Frost. 

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