My Worst Nightmare [Pitch]

The shadows shifted, crawling, creeping, clawing at his long black robes. They whimpered and begged with soundless noise, clinging to their master and hoping for a mere shred of his attention. They wanted him, yearned for him to bend them to his will, to make then into living, breathing nightmares. He did not oblige their wishes, he moved with silent grace between the trees, his presence a dark cloud of evil and golden orbs saw everything. Night was his domain, it was his power, his perfection. He manipulated it with the ease of a wave of his hand, nothing could touch him here. He was invincible during the blackness of night.

The shadows froze as did their master as the sound of something hitting the water reached his delicate ears. A wicked grin and a maniacal smile lit up his pale face and the shadows shifted, restless as they felt their masters excitement. His thrill. He called forth his shadows and they obeyed without hesitation, coiling around him like a cloak and sucking him down into the utter blackness of the shadow realm. He stepped between them and a moment later touched down on the very edge of the dock. Golden eyes watching the tail of the mermaid flicker beneath the surface as her startled gaze fell upon.

"Look at what a stunning creature lies before me." His words were filled with such sincerity, such seduction, he was a master of lies, and there was something alluring about his mannerisms and the way he spoke that lured people in. A wolf in sheep's clothing. "Won't you come a bit closer darling? I only wish to meet you." His eyes were clouded with kindness, a master of deception as he beckoned to her.

Pitch watched the creature with something akin to ravenous curiosity glittering in the depths of those golden orbs. He watched her with a scrutinous glare, memorizing every movement, every flutter, every special little emotion that flickered through her gaze. Centuries of watching people had taught him to read the most stoic of warriors, but she was no warrior, and her emotions played across her face like an open book. Apprehension, caution, a hint of fear... not much but that would change. The sincerity never left his eyes as she denied his request but the smile dropped from his face, and he rose to his full, towering height, brushing the imaginary dust from his jacket.

"Pity." It was the last kind word that would drop from Pitch's mouth. He turned his back on her and seemed to pluck a shadow straight off the underbelly of one of the ships. It careened and groaned, manifesting and shaping to his will, it grew larger, more potent as he worked it between his fingers. All false sincerity and kindness fell from his eyes like dead weights and they filled with a malice and a hatred untamable. Hard topaz glared hard on the mermaid. "It would have made your life much easier."

Crouching down at the edge of the dock he thrusted the writhing shadows into the water, his lips moving but no sound erupted from his mouth. The shadow grew and changed as he poured his power into their murky depths, manifesting into fear. Thick black dolphins, with eyes as hard and cold as Pitch's himself, they screamed an unearthly scream, held back only by Pitch's command. They were fear given a physical form. He grinned wickedly at her, and pulled his hand from the water,

"Go!" The monsters screamed, diving and crashing through the waters charging her at an alarming pace, and all the while Pitch's cold hearted laughter fueled them forward.

Pretty little thing wasn't she and such a spitfire too! His shadows careened around her, her boiling waters had no effect on such beasts. The shadows could not be killed by heat, nor water, only light was their weakness and as soon as they had retreated far enough to reconstruct themselves, the shadows returned. Angrier and more volatile. Pitch did not control the beasts once they were unleashed, he gave fear a physical form, a plane to exist in, and then... he unleashed it, but once he released such things from his hold he could not predict their movements nor their actions, he could merely give them a direction and nothing more. Fear could not be destroyed, only postponed, momentarily delayed. The beasts screams filled the air even as the woman's water boiled to the point of singeing flesh as her water shot towards him, Pitch merely stepped back into the shadows, reappearing a moment later on one of the ships. As long as darkness blocked out the sun, she couldn't touch him.

He took pity on his beasts of fear, creating more from the shadows, giving them nothing short of a small army, he was curious as to what a mermaid feared, and he would find out. She screamed at him angrily, useless words that held no meaning to Pitch, he cared little what she thought of him and even less to answer her questions.

"I am called many things, many of which the likes of you could not pronounce." They were words the trees had given him, the grasses and the rocks had claimed as their own. He had a thousand names, most derogatory or instilling fear, but he possessed no desire to tell her, only to watch as the shadows drew in closer and closer hunting her down with malicious intent.

Pitch watched as his monsters drew closer, speeding through the waters, crying screams that echoed those of tortured souls, she was fast, but not quite fast enough and one of his beasts clipped her tail. He plunged into her fear, watching as the fisherman gathered her up, hauling her in for a kill or who knew what other tortures her mind had dreamed up and then he was back, standing on the boat, a malicious grin cascading across his face and with a gentle flick of his wrist the monsters were gone, melting back into normal shadows as he drained them of his power of fear. The shadows skittered away, careening back across the water and returning to their rightful places.

Pitch watched with cruel eyes as the real dolphins of the ocean brought her out of the induced nightmare. Pitch never killed anything. Cutting the delicate threads of life was never something he had taken joys in, death meant freedom from pain, freedom from life, death meant happiness and if he could not obtain it why should anyone else? He had not always been so cruel, there was a time when he had been filled with hope and laughter and love, his daughter had been his life, his everything, but she had been lost and while he spent years trying to find her, darkling's had devoured his soul, forcing him not only to never leave his realm of nightmares and to be plagued by loneliness forever, but to never be reunited with his long dead daughter. He was not entranced by his immortality he was cursed by it.

"Poor thing... such nasty poachers, you are right to fear them... I have seen what has been done to your kind on Earth, there is a reason they no longer infect the sailors with their songs... such beautiful creatures... what a pity..." Pitch purred as she managed to refocus her glare on him. His eyes glittered with amusement as he crouched down on the dock, wicked smile spanning the length of his mouth as he waited for her next move.