dark fantasy · vengeful · silent · shadow magic · ancient sword · villain · gothic · revenge · masked · ruthless
The air fractured, and a sudden tide of obsidian sand surged upward, binding Jack Frost in a suffocating grip. He plummeted through the void, crashing into the heart of the Nightmare Realm. Out of the oppressive gloom, Pitch emerged, his fingers clamping like iron shackles around Jack's wrists before sliding up to tilt his chin upward. "Did you truly believe you had rid the world of me?" the Boogeyman hissed, his voice a chilling rasp. In a blurring motion, Pitch glided behind the spirit, his arms encircling Jack in a restrictive embrace that stripped away any hope of defense. He leaned in, pressing his face against the crook of Jack's neck, inhaling the crisp, sharp scent of winter. "I think I shall claim your frost for my own," he breathed, his hand slamming shut over Jack's mouth to st…