DSotM Ch 5: The Prisons

As he opened his eyes, the same sight that waited to greet him was there, just as it always was. It was an oppressing, suffocating darkness, and were it not for the fact that it had a slight bit of texture hidden within it, he would have wondered if he was actually still alive, in a sense. It felt like a cave, but he couldn’t be sure. After the Nightmares had dragged him down into his lair, everything had gone black, and stayed that way ever since. He’d only recently found an escape, though minor, from his prison, and it wasn’t easy to effectively do for long periods of time. In fact, he’d tried it again a couple minutes ago, though the familiar sight coupled with the pounding ache in his head where he’d hit himself told him that he had failed.

‘I really need to find a better way other than knocking myself out…’ He thought. Still, it had been worth a shot, especially with the madness beginning to return.

It was Man in the Moon’s way of manipulating him, or at least trying to. Of course, it had been working, to a degree, otherwise none of the events from his previous encounters with the Guardians would have happened.

Then again, having the sights and sounds of one’s wife and child being brutally tortured and tormented would drive anybody insane after a time. He had his moments of sanity, and clung to them whenever they arrived like a freezing man would cling to a warm blanket.

As his insanity began to rise up to swallow them, he did his best to fight it off. He needed to know what they were planning next, so that he could warn the Guardians.

It was no use.

He had to fight it.

The screams were getting louder.

Who knew what they would plan.

It was suffocating him.

Voices…speaking, talking…

…

It had him once more.
* * *
“Finally. Stubborn old fool.” A figure grunted, moving away from the sealed cave. He could hear the boogeyman inside, fully within the grips of his insanity. “I don’t know what you were thinking when you made him the Nightmare King. He’s done a poor job with the Guardians.

“Though, I have to admit, he did have the start of a good idea, even if he wasn’t willing to take it all the way. But, don’t worry. I can show you how to really break the Guardians, and I know just where to start…”
* * *
He had lost count of the number of times he’d apologized to them, for all that it mattered. They were dead, and it was because he had been unable to save them. He knew now, courtesy of his occasional visitor, that a number of the losses were merely from a flawed practice that had improved far beyond what he could have ever hoped to achieve.

Had he been a doctor of the current age, he would have been able to give people new limbs and organs, treating them with better equipment than leaches and potentially poisonous medication. Mental sickness was not something caused by demons, nor was it cured by making holes in the person’s skull. There were a number of treatments that worked that were available to the person.

While the news had done little to comfort him, it did manage to bring a small smile to his face every now and again, especially when he heard of another young life saved by the modern world’s miracle workers.

Idly, he wondered what the news would be when his visitor next came. Something seemed to be stirring up quite a bit of commotion. He hoped he wasn’t about to be dragged into a legend that he had found himself an unwilling part of.

The Four Horsemen. While he had no horse, the name he had been granted was enough to make him worry and wonder.

Plague.

His old name hardly seemed to matter, as that life had ended. His new name always filled him with dread, though, and with what he did know of Man in the Moon, it was easy to believe that the powerful spirit just might force him and the other three, if Famine had been created, to carry out the legend.

From his self-imposed imprisonment, however, he could only wait and see, and pray for the best.
* * *
Her brother was getting restless. It brought a small smile to her face. His restlessness meant that his plans were not moving exactly the way he wanted them to. The fact that he had recruited a violent, twisted fallen angel, however, made her worry. She had intended for the Guardians of Childhood to be powerful enough to defend the children, but giving them the power to defeat an angel had been beyond her when she had appointed Sandman as the first Guardian.

A sound dragged her attention away from her thoughts. It was her only friend out here, as well as her eyes and ears on the other side of the moon, Elixir the Moon Rabbit. “Have you learned anything new, my friend?” She asked, stepping closer.

Elixir nodded. “The Guardians have met with Jizrael’s daughter, Anja. She wishes to help them fight, but I do not think that she is fully aware, or prepared for, what that will require of her. Neither myself nor your brother will be able to see much for a time, though. At least not from here. They’ve moved to Aster’s Warren, and the, ahem, odd way they were talking about it makes me suspect that someone told them. It sounds like your brother has less control over Pitch Black than he would like to have.

Luna gave a sad nod, looking down a bit. “Perhaps, if they succeed in stopping my brother, I will make things right with him. He deserves more, but it will be all I can give him.”

Elixir placed a paw under Luna’s chin, lifting her head a bit. “Not ‘if,’ Sister Moon. ‘When’ they stop your brother’s plans.”

Her smile spread a bit. “You’re right. ‘When.’”