A/N: Hello! Thanks for dropping in. This is just my tribute to Pitch Black, the Nightmare King. Ah, Freeverse. Fun tip: it rhymes. I'm sure Pitch would appreciate that. For added effect, try reading it aloud – I worked hard on the cadence to make it sound vaguely like a Grimm Nursery rhyme. Please read and review, and let me know what you think.

.


My Name Is Pitch Black

I am the monster that lurks in the night.

I am a shadow, a trick of the light.

I am the creak on the cold basement stairs.

I am the bearer of all your nightmares.

Skritch-scratch. Skritch-scratch. Can you hear? All those midnight sounds that freeze you in fear? Like a rat scurrying throughout the walls, sharp nails skritch-scratching the wood as it crawls…

That sound? It's me. You know it deep in your heart. I am lying in wait…

to tear you apart.

And the way your house creaks? Each crack and each groan—when your house doesn't feel at all like your home? When you start to question if you're really alone?

(You're not, I assure. You're never alone.)

And the shadows that twist? The bump in the night?

(—what was that? Did you hear—)

"No. Goodnight."

But you know, don't you? You're one of the few—you're aware that the darkness can stare back at you.

It's easy to forget, when the sunlight is out. Of course nothing sinister is creeping about.

…but as night falls, you doubt.

Don't lie—I've seen that unease countless times before as you shudder and walk on your cold basement floor.

Can you sense me, I wonder? Does it tingle your spine when you walk in the folds of this darkness of mine?

It's cute, how your eyes shift, searching for light.

(There's no such thing as the Boogeyman.)

(…right?)

But your comforting lies mean nothing to me, and your timid heart can't help but agree. Your soul knows I linger—just out of sight.

You're treading on dangerous ground tonight.

So this is what happens when you are alone? I can sense paranoia deep in your bones. It's a perfect setup if there ever was one, so I suppose it's time—for me to have fun.

A Creak.

The barest of sounds makes you freeze in your tracks.

Oh, this is too easy. A small heart attack—from each bump and each moan? You're so easy to scare when you're cold and alone.

The fear flickers so vividly across your face. I can see your hands shake. I can hear your heart race. What music—I can't help but draw near. And the closer I get? The greater your fear.

Does my deathly chill presence make your hair stand on end? Can you sense that I'm lurking just round the bend? Do my echoing footsteps upon the floor make you quicken your pace and run for the door?

Does your heart race in your veins as your pace causes pains to stitch up your side— but quick! Quickly now! Run, run and hide! I'm right on your heels, I'm two steps behind! Fangs that glint, claws that catch, shadows that swell and flicker and stretch and stretch, wrapping and trapping and snapping like greedy jaws to steal your precious—last—breath—

When you're safe, you slam the door and lock it up tight.

But I know what you're thinking. I can taste your fright.

You. Know. Who. I. Am.

I am the shadows, the dark and the deep.

I am the nightmare that shatters your sleep.

I am the monster that lurks in the night.

My name is Pitch Black—

You're my victim tonight.

.