Snowflakes And Shadow Crowns

The Boy in a Small House

  It was a small house, tucked away between two larger ones. It was quaint, this house;  it was well tended to and unassuming. Yes, It was a small house but, within it's walls, it held an even smaller child.

  A boy, to be exact. So fragile and delicate. So sweet and unpretentious. A boy who never did anything he was told not to.

  Yes, indeed. It was such a small boy in such a small house...but who knew that this small being could have a fear so stupendous?

---

  "He isn't real..." The dark cave walls loomed all around Jack as the wind hummed and whistled eerily in between cracks or through unobstructed hollows and gaping caverns. He suddenly felt somewhat trapped, as if the mounds of rock enclosing the chamber were somehow bars to a metaphorical cage.  Jack frowned, his brows knitting dangerously close together as his eyes began to burn slightly from the monumental guilt that gnawed away at him for unknown reasons.

  Where was Pitch? How did he escape? How so soon, and why--No the answer to why was simple, Jack knew. Pitch needed fear. He was dying just like the dismay that he fed off of. However, the one question that Jack kept replaying repeatedly through his mind was one less abstract: how did any of this connect to him? The almost prophetic dreams, the overwhelming lure he felt towards the boogeyman's lair, and his reluctance  to tell his beloved friends of his strange feelings--where did they come from? Why him? And why now?

Jack rubbed at his face to dismiss the overwhelming urge to start cursing everything under the moon when a sudden flash of black whipped past him, knocking the breath from his lungs. Jack whipped around, gripped his staff with both hands, and bolted after the shadow.

  The darkened creature fled into the streets of the town, the wind strong and the sky now shrouded in shadow; only a few rays of fading sunlight pierced the veil of clouds. As the shadow leaped and flashed over buildings, Jack followed, always seeming one step behind. Turning a sharp corner and bolting, the thing vanished, but Jack stood ready, his heart pounding against his ribs. 

  A huff of breath came from behind him, and Jack arched his back as the same eerie feeling from before crawled up his spine. Turning around cautiously, Jack saw two golden eyes glaring at him; the darkness around the glowing orbs formed the silhouetted shape of a large equine. He stilled, taking in the sight of the nightmare.

He hadn't seen one in over four years; the realisation was astounding. The beast was large--larger than Jack-- but he could tell that the fearling wasn't as grand as its former self and that the elegance it once possesed was long lost and abandoned. It seemed feral and untamed. 

  Jack had let his guard down for just a moment and instantly the quadruped bolted almost as if it were afraid. Pulling himself together, he followed it until it backed itself against the wall of a house. He smiled triumphantly, having cornered the beast.

He stepped forward, his staff outstretched, but as he grew closer, the horse's snarls and stamping grew even more restless ad erratic. It snapped at him; it gnashed its teeth and vigorously shook its head. He side stepped out of surprise to avoid the attacks as the ferocious mare kicked at him, inching closer as he stepped back. Then suddenly, the horse reared itself onto its hind legs, standing taller than two men. Jack's eyes widened as it began to come down on him. He put his hands in front of his face--a useless gesture--and flinched, but instead of hitting him, the nightmare disintegrated with a feral shriek. The black sand pooled around Jack's feet as he breathed heavily. Long tendrils of the substance slithered across the pavement and into the nearby street drain. 

  Jack's mind was a jumbled mess of incognizable fear and worry, but even before he had time to straighten out his thoughts, he felt a strange yet familiar presence. There was something, once again, trying to lure him somewhere. He could feel it. Feel the fear of someone other than himself and it called to him.