A New World | THE BIG FOUR: Book 2 ✔

10 : THE KING OF DARKNESS

Burgess

In the dark gloomy lair, his silhouette dropped against the cold and rusty ceiling, his fingers slowly tapped- the only sound that can be heard in that certain night. He sat in his throne with so much pressure, he gritted his teeth and tasted blood in his tongue. He sneered- did not move any muscle. His eyes glowed in its silvery-gold color. His breathing, slow and confine.

Images danced around in front of him. Like a reflection of light- watching it in every movement. He never missed one as he remembered. He watches them. Secretly. Silently. Under the shadows, he eyed them within another open portal.

Pitch have to make sure everything is going appropriately to his plan- but this day... this day, did not made anything better.

Pitch hissed underneath his breath, the coldness simpered through his pale skin.

He breathed vastly.

"Traitors!" He splat. Anger filled his veins.

Pitch moved quickly to another room of his lair. Once he had entered inside, hanging rusting cages welcomed him with old metallic locks in each of the structures. They did not show any hint of life within them. They had been sleeping. Or worse, they might be dead, long as he could remember.

"What have you done?" Pitch asked with so much authority.

His head gaped upwards. To see their faces- to see them move but no one did. They are still and calm. Santa Claus, the Bunnymund, the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman did not move. Like they had been cursed in a deep slumber. Their chest rises and falls.

Pitch Black had retrieved them back after the battle that happened years ago. Against the Big Four- as they called themselves. Pitch made the guardians as his own prisoner, keeping them locked out from the world.

He controlled everything- everyone.

And in one false move, he doesn't want everything he planned to disappear.

Pitch went back to his throne. Still, the images were moving constantly around him. He wasn't prepared for this.

"What had I gone wrong?" He marched around, touching the floating image with his bare hands, passing through his skin.

Pitch watched deeply.

Closely.

Rapunzel watching the sky in the window of a mansion. Hiccup standing in front of glorious and marvelous university. Merida walking inside the school parameters. Jack sitting and listening to his instructor with his hands scribbling down notes.

Then it slowly fades.

Until a wide flat valley showed up. With numerous population in their own uniform, playing, running, jumping to the sports they had chosen.

Pitch's eyes did not faze.

He watched them in constant delusion. He watched them look at each other, talk to each other, smile and laugh. Those four individuals. He hadn't expected it.

Pitch moved and idly sat in his throne, frozen in time, he was thinking for a backup plan. If anything goes out uncontrolled, he'll be able to correct everything in just a snap of his fingers. He needed it... now. As soon as possible. He won't just wait for a miracle to happen- if there is.

"What had made you uneasy, Black?" Her voice echoed.

Gothel stood meters away from him but Pitch did not moved upon her arrival. He did not welcome her nor said anything in behalf of her appearance. He was engrossed by his scheme and greed towards the situation he was in.

"You're afraid." The witch continued.

"Oh." She mocked. "Yes. You are."

"No. I am not."

"I can fairly see it in your eyes." She answered back.

"Have you travelled all the way here to insult me?" Pitch questioned. "If that's what it is, I concretely do not need your mocking words." He snapped.

Gothel laughed softly and maniacally. She moved and walked near him, circling around with her old ancient cape being dragged at her back. She hummed a song in her mouth. Gothel smiled.

"Remember, you've still got something that belonged to them." She praised.

"Be sure to keep it with you." Gothel warned for the last time before disappearing in thin air.

The room was silent again in her disappearance. Dusts danced around his line of vision. And everything Gothel had said echoed and echoed in his ears. The end of his lips slowly curved into a crooked grin... until he had grown composed of it.

Of course.

Of course.

Pitch smoothly waved his hands, until small amounts of black sand flowed within his movement, fade shade of light slowly appeared and with all his force, the light burst in full concentration. Conjuring it anytime he needed it and keeping it safe within his grasp.

The four golden cylindrical boxes glowed brightly in his skin, it shone endlessly. Different colored crystals reflected against the ceiling, reaching to all the dark spaces and cracks. Pitch payed a look.

Four different faces grown clearly at the end of the cylindrical boxes, signifying that they belonged to the four teenagers. Pitch smiled mischievously.

He chuckled.

Holding the golden boxes, he moved around his lair; having the weight of victory by his side. He can smell the undeniably scent of success.

He hummed.

"As long as these belongs to me," Pitch trailed.

His chest moved up and down.

He smiled.

"They will never remember who they truly are."

Even how much he insist it was, there will be the day he'll take his own down fall and Pitch Black never knew that the moon shone brightly like no any other night, it glazed neatly over Burgess.

Pitch never knew.

For there will be always light in darkness.