Nightmares and Shadows [Gretal]

It did not take long for The King of Nightmares to grow bored with his trivial shadows, his imperfect perfections, his monsters of chaos and fear. He was plagued to live until the end of eternity, it mattered little on what plane or what world... were all the worlds not just as cruel and hateful as the one he had come from? Thin, pale fingers traced the mane of the monster he had spent years perfecting and its nostrils flared, heavy hooves smashing into the earth.

A snap of a twig and the shadows skittered, rising towards their master and waiting for his command, ready to defend him in an instant. The horse reared, the shadows coiling and bending around its mane. Reins morphed from the shadows and Pitch clutched them tightly to prevent the beast from seeking the source of the noise on its own. Screaming its displeasure into the night the horse kicked and reared. Snorting and pawing the earth and Pitch shushed the beast. It was the one downside to his formidable power. He manifested fear into a physical form but once created it could not be controlled, the stallion could be reigned but full control was beyond even Pitch's powers.

A young woman... a human caught his golden gaze. The shadows hummed with energy, begged him to cast her into their depths, to drown her in darkness and darken her senses with terror, but Pitch stilled his hand, fingers twitching, his boredom elevating. She had no powers, no skills that could possibly hold a candle to his shadows, how utterly dull.

"I do believe you have lost your way m'lady, these woods are where dreams come to die and pretty little things like yourself turn into old hags hunched over from crooked spines and broken out in filthy warts." Pitch purred, his voice was seductive, alluring, there was something about him that lured people in, dark and mysterious. Hooves digging into the loose earth, the horse pulled wanting to consume the girl, wanting to drag her down and pull her into a nightmare worse than any dream, but Pitch held fast, he would wait, see what she wanted. Curiosity had always been his downfall.

A wicked grin whipped across his face at her fear. He could taste her desire to flee, to retreat, it was the strongest aphrodisiac upon his tongue. He ruled her fear, he could manipulate and control it. He said not a word though, merely pinned her in place with his eyes. He was impressed that she could speak without a stutter, or a pause, she presented a brave front despite sensing his... rather unfriendly air. He cocked his head to the side as she mentioned looking for something lost and his smile only grew. She flitted away, vanishing back into the mist filled woods... but Pitch had found a play thing and these woods were filled with shadows. He released the horse who stood beside him restless.

"Come." The shadows rose from every crevice, every corner, pulling, twisting, stretching, lengthening into a small group of wild horses, each more wild than the last. They were fear set in a physical form, demons unleashed from the furthest spaces of hell and they belonged to Pitch. Nostrils flared and cries of agitation filled the air. "What say you to a fun little game with our new plaything? ... Find her, infect her. Break. Her. Down." Pitch hissed, the falsities the seduction now gone. As the horses tossed their heads agreeing with their master.

"Go!" Like rockets the horses abandoned him. Thundering through the woods like a thick plague of horror. Trees shied away from their ferocious cries, grass wilted and died and dirt turned to ash beneath the pounding of their hooves. Shadows and fear flooded the forests and all the while Pitch's laughter fueled them forward, urged them to find their prey. It took mere moments to find her, the only living thing remaining in these God-forsaken woods and like the demons they were, they descended upon her.

Screaming, echoing cries like a dying man they thundered on. Given the freedom of Pitch's power, the horses could not be controlled even by Pitch himself. They were given his will and his power and they intended to seek out his target, their victim, but the actual way they went about destroying her mind was their choice, their will. Monsters in their own right they followed her scent.

The rain poured down thick and heavy, bathing the earth in a thick torrent of water and still they did not slow. Crashing through puddles, ripping trees in half, shattering rocks, they fell on the earth like a sick plague destroying anything and everything they came across. Her heady footfalls grew louder and louder and such sounds only fueled them faster and faster.

Pitch watched from his kingdom, an orb created from darkness as his beasts hunted her down like a predator. His malicious golden orbs glowing in the darkness of his kingdom as he reclined on his throne. Such beauty! Such unabashed glory as they ripped the decaying forest to shreds. His dark laughter filtered through the empty catacombs, there was nothing more delightful than watching someone attempt to outrun fear.

The horses were not slowed by the muck filled stream and skidded to a halt in the thin water, there thick hooves, splashing in the brown water and rising covered in filth. They spread out trapping her against the bridge and slowly moved closer. Lips pulled back in mock grin. Sinister and cruel. Topaz eyes soulless and gleaming. She was theirs.

Pitch watched as his demons grew close to the woman, they could smell her fear... she repressed it well, well enough to cause them pause, but just a moment and then they had regained the hunt, closing in tighter and tighter. Through the monsters he could not tell her fear, only that she had at least one for the horses to close in. Everyone feared something, even he, but for the most part his monstrosities let him be. He had created them, and he was one of the few who could destroy them.

She withdrew something... a vile? A wicked smile came to his face. Perhaps it was acid, some kind of deadly poison? A concoction meant to kill the most wicked of creatures? It could not hurt fear, nor could it harm his shadows, they weren't real and they could morph into whatever being they so choose, it was useless, they would infect her and she would fall, just like the thousands before her. So predictable so bor- His golden eyes widened in surprise as the vial began to glow and his realm shook with the force of his anger. Light! Damnable light! His horses cried, screaming their rage as the light chewed away at the shadows they were stemmed from. They screamed and retreated and Pitch snarled, he had had enough of this farce. Ripping open the shadows he stepped through them with ease and suddenly appeared in front of the fleeing woman. Coiling his pale fingers around her upper arm he halted her in her path and in his other hand he summoned a scythe. The blade, constructed of shadows of course, was massive, stretching the length of a human body. The horses thundered towards them a second later, now beyond Pitch's reach they aimed to destroy them both. With a snarl befitting a demon, he brought the scythe down upon them, slicing them in half. The shadows hissed, and scattered away, flying back into the woods and abandoning their form. Fear swirled through the air like a toxin, but the scythe vanished and Pitch summoned the deadly toxin back to him. He spun the woman to face him bending over to glare daggers into her eyes.

"How did you summon the light!" It was a command, not a question. His fury was clearly evident in the anger that bubbled beneath his topaz gaze. He could not let a weapon with such magnificent power continue to exist and he needed to know how she wielded such a tool. In the light, Pitch was weak, in the light Pitch could be defeated. Not killed... no, never killed, he was cursed to live forever, but he could be horribly weakened. "Answer me!"