Light. That's the first thing that came to mind. It was bright red and hot. Painfully hot.

Make it stop...

It's too hot...It hurts...

I'm burning up!

Violet eyes shot open as a pained gasp escaped her lips. But there was no red light. The only light was coming from the full moon in the night sky. It was a cool night. There was no source of warmth. No hot feeling. Just the soft autumn breeze. That's all she could feel. The wind.

Why I can't feel the earth under my feet?

She looked around. She was floating in the air, several feet from the ground. She was going up as if reaching for the moon. She didn't panic, didn't try to move. She was calm, at peace.

Spirit of Legends, Angel Myth

Who are you?

She felt herself slowly float down until her feet softly touched the ground. Taking no further words from what she assumed was the moon, she looked around her. A forest ahead of her, an open field on the other side and burned pieces of what used to be a house. The place didn't feel unfamiliar to her.

Have I...been here before?

Frowning in confusion, she slowly approached the burned remnants of the house, examining it curiously. She had a feeling that she knew this place, very well. Her foot bumped into a thing covered in ashes, though she could clearly see the reflection of the moonlight shining between the dark dust. Bending down, she tenderly picked it up and cleaned it with her palm. Though blurry from the dirt, it was obvious that it was a broken piece of mirror. But the person staring back at her wasn't her reflection. It couldn't be.

Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the unfamiliar image before her. Her almond shaped, baby blue eyes were now a crystal violet and her, once light brown locks falling on her back were now black like the shadows in the corner of a bedroom, reaching down to her waist. Her peach skin was so pale she thought she was dead. But that wasn't all.

Touching her deep red lips, she discovered in utter shock that it was their natural color. Same with the black shadow on her eyelids and the black eyelashes. She was wearing no makeup. On her hair, resting on her forehead, was a silver, carved headdress, a deep purple pendant in the middle of it.

It looks like a crown...

Dropping the broken mirror, she looked down at the rest of her clothing. Purple and black. That's what it was.

My favorite colors.

The dress she was wearing was a deep shade of purple, the straps hanging loosely off of her shoulders. Its skirt flowed just above her knees, and a corset was hugging her stomach, its purple right side fading to black on the left side. Simple black ballerinas were hugging her feet, purple strings wrapping around them and ending around her ankles. On her arms was a purple ribbon with little stones and a black string that coiled up to her shoulder. A necklace with silver chain and a purple teardrop stone was matching her headdress.

What happened to me before I fell asleep?

A soft wind blew her hair to the side, a few leaves brushing against her face. She waved them off, absentmindedly. What got her attention though, was the black sparkles that momentary flew from her fingertips with that movement. She looked at her hand in surprise, examining it as if it was the first time she laid eyes upon it.

Biting her lip, she tried to imagine the same sparkles in her mind. The moment she had made a perfect picture of them, they appeared on her fingertips. This time, they stayed there, flickering and curling around her palm like playful children.

A small smile formed on her lips. Curiously, she shot them at a tree. The moment the sparkles made contact with the tree, they exploded in a rain of black crystal and disappeared. Angel laughed like a gleeful kid. Looking down at her feet, she cautiously stepped forward, testing the peculiar abilities once again. The moment her foot touched the ground, a black sparkling layer of crystal formed a circle around her shoe, designs of myths and legends she had once read about.

"This is amazing..." she whispered, eyes sparkling with excitement as she looked at her hand again. "Mark and Elly will not believe in their eyes!"

She froze, a look of shock and fear overtaking her previous joy.

Mark and Elly...why those names were in my mind?

She unconsciously turned to face the burned house, reaching tentatively at it and softly touching what should have been a door. As if a surge of electricity had passed through her, a memory flashed in her mind.


"Don't move, sweetheart! It's okay, mommy is coming!"


"Mommy, I'm scared! The fire is scary!"

"I know sweetheart, I know-" A window shattered beside them, a scream was heard. "It's okay, it's just a dream. You'll wake up in your bed with your teddy and I will come to sing you to sleep. It's just a dream. You'll wake up safe."

The smoke was burning her throat. She was too hot, the flames too close. She couldn't breathe. She clutched Elly closer to her chest.

"You'll wake up, you'll wake up-" The ceiling above them groaned and cracked. She closed her eyes and hid her face in Elly's hair. She mentally counted down to three. "You'll wake up, you'll wake up, you'll wake up!"

She ran a moment before the ceiling came crashing down.


"Angel! Elly! Hold on!"

She coughed. "Mark!"

He bent in front of her, just as she opened her arms to give him a crying Elly."Take her and go!"

"I'm not leaving you behind!"

"Please save our child! I will be fine, just save her!" she cried out, her tears almost drying out by the temperature of the flames around them.

Mark shut his eyes and snatched the little girl from her, standing up. "I'll get you both out."

He ran out of the house, through the flames. She watched him go, a smile appearing on her lips as her tears ran freely. "Thank you, darling..."



"Mark..." He had come back. "Mark!"

"I'm coming, darling! Hold on!" He was running towards her. The walls around her cracked and protested, the flames hissed around her. She couldn't move her legs. Mark stretched his hand out at her. She tried to reach out to him, to take his hand. "Mark!"

The walls fell apart. It was strange that she managed to make out his voice with all that noise.


She fell on her knees in front of the remnants of what used to be her home. She was breathing heavily, feeling her chest being squeezed by an invisible hand. She was staring wide-eyed at the ground, not really seeing it.

That fire...I couldn't have...

I am...dead.

She looked at her hands, felt the dirt beneath her, the burned wood of the door. It was like she was never dead. But she had a peculiar power. The moon itself had called her Angel Myth, the spirit of legends.

Is this really the afterlife? Then it dawned on her. Her stomach dropped, a coldness overtook her body, her fingers trembled.

Where is my family? Where is my child, my husband?

She knew it was stupid, probably even useless. Surely pitiful. But she couldn't think logically at that moment. Angel didn't even know when she had stood up.

"Elly! Mark! Where are you?! Elly!"

She looked frantically around, searching for something that wasn't there. She wasn't thinking, she wasn't acting by logic. She was only a mother, looking for her family. She had no reason to go searching for them into the woods. But she did anyway.

The silence of the trees swallowed every call and scream of hers. She was running between them, the world around her a blur. The more she ran and yelled without receiving an answer, the more desperate and frantic she became. Her heart felt like she was being squeezed to the point of suffocation, her lungs were burning, the back of her eyes stung.

She reached the outskirts of a town without realizing it. She couldn't recall its name, neither did she try to do so. She went to cross the church's graveyard, to reach the town faster.

A dog barked loudly. She yelped in fear and tripped over her feet, falling between the gravestones. As if not noticing the gloomy looking graves surrounding her, she struggled to stand back up, to search for her loved ones.

A choked gasp escaped her throat when her eyes fell on a gravestone a few feet away from where she was. Everything stopped around her. Feeling numb, as if dead inside, she stood and walked to the grave at a slow, hesitant pace. There was a chilling stillness around her.

Family grave, Mark, Angel and EmillyLudenberg.

Mark Ludenberg...died on 10.23.2013

Angel Ludenberg...died on 3.23.2013

Emilly Ludenberg...died on 10.23.2013

Hot tears ran freely down her cheeks. Her face grew hot against the coldness that sipped into her body. A burning pain rooted itself in her heart and overtook it.

Her knees gave out and she fell on her knees in front of the gravestone. Her arms wrapped tightly around it, her cheek leaned against the side of it.

Her cry echoed through the silence of the night. She threw her head back, shut her eyes tightly and cried out at the sky. Her head fell forward against the stone, sobs racked her body. It hurt so bad.

They can't be gone...

How could this happen...

Please make it stop...stop this nightmare, please...

Wake me up...somebody, wake me up...

Come back...don't not leave me...


Death has fallen upon my family...

Unknown to the mourning woman, the ground around her was slowly covered by a layer of black crystal that shifted and twisted itself, creating a dark form that kept growing and growing until it was looming over her. Tears drying out on her face, Angel slowly raised her head and faced the creation of her emotions.

She should have been scared, she should have tried to step away from it, or at least flinch at its presence. But she was perfectly at ease with it, instead. It almost calmed her sorrow.

It was just as she had imagined. A figure taller than 2 meters. Clad in a black cloak that floated softly around, giving off the impression that the figure was bulky. There were no visible feet poking out of the cloak. Big, black skeletal hands were poking out of the sleeves, no skin or muscle on them. Just black, bare bone. The hood was hiding the black skull that was its face. The holes for the eyes were filled with a deep amethyst colored light that looked menacing rather than calming. A long black scythe with a silver blade was clutched in its hand, its height overpowering the figure's. It was entirely made of her black crystal.

"The embodiment of death." she muttered as she slowly rose to her feet. She had to tilt her head up in order to look into his eyes.

The skeleton's expression changed into sorrow, sympathizing her. In a swift movement, he kneeled in front of her using the scythe to support him, his head bent low. Angel glanced at him, then at the gravestone of her family.

Her hand slipped inside the hood and touched the skeletal cheek. The figure in response looked up at her, its usual dead smile back on its face. She looked deep into the amethyst lights and whispered with all the emotion she had experienced from the moment she woke up.

"Reaper, is it strange that you remind me so much of my family?"

Reaper stared at her, taking in his new name and the sorrow of his mistress. When she smiled sadly at him, the purple lights turned into slits like closed eyes and tilted his head to the ground, as a soft breeze passed by, her hair and dress floating along with his dark cloak.

Angel found herself in the woods once again, arms wrapped around herself and unstoppable silent tears running down her cheeks. She was walking aimlessly around, not caring where she would go. Reaper was floating beside her, staring ahead of him at nothing in particular. Though still sorrowful, his presence was calming her enough to feel safe.

As they kept walking, and in Reaper's case floating, they passed some markings on the ground, resembling nail marks. Angel didn't notice them at all, passing over them.

Reaper did notice them. He sensed the dark aura beneath the earth, strong and menacing. He sensed a vicious power attacking and consuming a spirit, which was trying desperately to escape. What both confused and alarmed Reaper, was the fact that both the power and the spirit had the same aura. As if it was being self-destroyed.

"Reaper? What's wrong?" Angel had noticed that Reaper had fallen back and was confused to see him glaring at a spot on the ground, both hands clutching tightly the handle of his scythe.

Reaper looked up at her momentary, before returning his gaze to the ground. Having created him, Angel was able to hear and sense everything he said and felt. So, it was only natural that she felt what was the reason of his alarmed state.

But she wasn't in the state to decide what to do. She wasn't emotionally stable enough to keep calm. It was too early for that.

"What is this...?" she whispered, unconsciously taking a step back as panic started settling in her heart. The darkness down there was too strong, so much that it terrified her weak spirits. How much more she could take in one only night? How much more she was supposed to bear? She had just seen the grave of her family, herself included. Wasn't that enough for one night?

As if the power within the earth sensed her panic, it moved from its original spot and shot towards her. She could feel it approaching fast from underground. It was weaker than what she had previously felt, probably it had divided itself, but still very strong for her liking. Eyes widening in fear, her mind froze. She couldn't think, couldn't run. She just stood there, feeling the evil itself approaching hastily, hungry for her.

But she wasn't the only one that could sense this.

Reaper shot up in front of her, scythe held high above his head with a menacing glare on his face, ready to protect her. It was the first time that she felt so lucky and grateful to have this power of hers. In a way, it made her feel not so alone.

His actions snapped her out of her frozen state. Feeling the dark force right beneath her, the dirt she was stepping on being the only thing separating the two, she felt the instinct of survival kick in. Not knowing what exactly she was facing against, she raised her hands above her head, the black sparkling magic swirling around her palms.

"Stay away from me!" she yelled, thrusting her hands down towards the ground, her magic exploding from her palms and slipping inside the earth, leaving no trace behind. She could feel the dark aura back away and move frantically, taken aback by the unexpected attack. She didn't wait to see what happened.

She turned away and ran further inside the woods. She ran and didn't look back, a sparkle of security slowly creeping inside of her when she noticed Reaper flying beside her. She only stopped when the woods cleared out and her eyes were greeted with familiar bright lights.

"My town."

There was absolute blackness. Not even the tiny rays of light seeping in from the ceiling were visible. Not from where Pitch Black was fighting to escape. His own Nightmares had created a sphere of pure black sand, imprisoning him inside it as they steadily tore his soul apart in search of his fear. He had gained numerous bruises and small cuts in the process, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of having his worst fears come true, his very spirit being torn to pieces as if the same Nightmares he had created were now eating his soul.

Though it felt like he was being tortured like this for centuries, he knew it had only been a year. A whole year of non-stop torture and pain, both physical and mental, from his own creations. He didn't know for how long he could endure this.

Suddenly, numerous of the Nightmares around him simply...left. As if they were bored of him, they left the sphere. He could feel the change of weight on his body. Where they were going or why they left, he didn't know neither did he care to learn at this point.

As suddenly as they had left, all the Nightmares surrounding him stilled in their movement, as multiple surprised neighs echoed from the top of the lair. Pitch fell on the floor, his Nightmares all around him in their usual horse form, staring up at the ceiling. The Nightmare King raised his head with a big effort and followed their line of sight. His golden orbs widened at the sight.

A couple of his Nightmares were being pushed by a beam of what appeared to be black glass, away from the ceiling and the world above. Before they were able to regain their composure, the beam circled around itself and formed the shape of a stallion with its horseman.

There was an explosion of black sparkles and then a devilish, loud laughter that echoed around the enormous lair, bouncing off of every wall. The crystal stallion neighed loudly and stood on its hind legs, bright purple eyes staring the Nightmares down menacingly. On its back, the form of a headless, strong built man was producing the laughter, a sword made of the same crystal as its owner being held in his hand.

The Nightmares stood on their hind legs in surprise, before the horseman swung his sword and slashed through one of them, reducing it to dust. That seemed to snap all the other Nightmares in the lair out of their surprise as they neighed angrily and shot towards him, leaving Pitch alone to watch on the stone floor.

The horseman pushed his stallion on a full gallop, slashing at the Nightmares as if they were mere flies. Whenever a Nightmare would attack, he would immediately slash or stab them, shattering them. He ran around, chasing the ones that either tried to flee or guide him somewhere else, swinging his sword with the purpose of cutting off their heads. He would have succeeded if it weren't for the Nightmares turning to dust the moment his blade made contact with them.

At some point, he stopped his stallion and threw his sword straight at one Nightmare that was closer to Pitch, the weapon passing through the hellish horse and sinking into the floor beside Pitch's hand. The Nightmare King flinched at the sound the contact produced.

Now defenseless, the horseman turned his stallion to dive for the sword, while the Nightmares attacked him with newfound courage. But it wasn't as easy as it looked.

As dangerous the horseman was, so was his stallion. It reared on its hind legs, neighing and kicking out at the Nightmares with its front legs, occasionally kicking at the ones that dared approach from behind. The horseman held the reins tighter and dived with his stallion for the sword, his trusted friend hitting the Nightmares in its way with its head.

They landed a few feet away from Pitch and trotted towards the sword, the horseman prying it out of the ground with no effort. A movement of his shoulders to the side alerted Pitch that the peculiar creature was looking right at him. It didn't last long enough for Pitch to say something.

The horseman's attention turned back to the Nightmares, his stallion standing in front of the Nightmare King in a defending stance. The horses gathered together in a massive wave and rose high in the air, then dived for him. Instead of backing away or even preparing his sword, the horseman let out another bone-chilling laugh, his stallion standing on its hind legs. He raised his other hand in the air to show a black crystal pumpkin, a scary carved face on it. A purple fire, the color of the stallion's eyes was pouring out of its carved mouth and eyes.

With one last laugh, he threw the pumpkin at the Nightmares.

Being so close to their target and running so fast, the horses had no time to react. The pumpkin exploded the moment it made contact with the nightmare sand, the purple fire spreading all over the wave as terrified neighs echoed around the walls. The horseman stared at the result of his actions until the fire died out and the sand slipped deep into the lair, reaching out for the darker corners of it.

Pitch thought it was the first time that he was so surprised. He kept staring around his lair, unable to believe that a moment ago it was full of Nightmares. He almost didn't notice the tip of the horseman's sword lightly touching his cheek. His eyes snapped up to meet the invisible eyes of the headless man. Somehow, he knew that the man was examining him, probably considering whether he should kill him or not. Normally, Pitch would have tried to slip into the shadows or even call his Nightmares. But, at this point, he didn't dare to do any of the two. The reasons were simple. He had a sword touching his cheek, a stallion that could easily step on him staring him down, he was tired and slightly injured and his Nightmares would try to attack him again unless he regained control over them.

The stallion huffed and smelled him, simultaneously keeping its snout a couple of inches away from him. Seemingly satisfied, it snapped its head back and snorted. The sword was removed from the Boogeyman's face as the horseman turned his horse away and pulled the reins. The stallion shot in the air and galloped away from the lair and back to the earth's surface.

Ever so slowly, Pitch stood up, the sings of his previous torture starting to fade away. Feeling his body slowly fighting the pain back and the Nightmares keeping to themselves instead of re-attacking him, the only thing that remained in his mind was a simple question.


Angel wandered around the town, the streetlights illuminating her way. She had reluctantly decided to reduce Reaper into his original state of black crystals, having him return to her palm so as not to scare anyone who could be passing by.

Despite her aching heart after finding the grave of her family and the emotional exhaustion after everything that had happened that night, she was relieved to be around other people. She wanted to talk to the first human she would encounter, just so she could get rid of the loneliness that was growing inside of her.

Losing your family makes you realize how lonely you can be.

She spotted a group of girls walking down the street, chatting and laughing. Releasing a breath, she hadn't realized she had been holding, she walked over to them, trying to be as friendly as possible. She thought of asking directions for the nearest hotel, so she could spend the night, seeing that she had nowhere else to go. Paying for it would be a problem though...

She went to stand in front of them and cleared her throat awkwardly. "Excuse me, do you know where the hotel is?"

The only response she got was the girls passing by her, barely managing to jump out of their way before they fell on her. She watched them go with a confused frown on her face.

They didn't even see me...Did they?

Looking around, she made her way towards a couple that was strolling around. She went to stand in front of the two, with no intention of moving away again. If they didn't want to talk to her, they could simply glance at her and walk around her, not right at her. "Excuse me, I am searching for-"

She jumped back, crying out in fear. She panted, a wave of fresh panic settling inside of her. Her hand trembled as she brought it up to feel her torso. Everything was as it should be, tangible and in the right place. With wide eyes, she turned to stare at the couple that kept walking away from her.

They...passed through me...

She quickly searched for another human, spotting a group of teenagers. She made her way to them and reached out to touch them. As she feared, her hand passed right through them, none of them acknowledging her presence. She tried the same with another human.

And another.

And another.

How...why...? The name was on it...of course, I remember a few things from the fire, I died there...I had forgotten it after everything that happened stupid.

She looked around her, feeling freshly made tears filling her eyes. Every person she saw made her feel more miserable.

They don't see me...or hear me...

My this... I'm destined to be alone... forever? She gulped, trying to swallow both her tears and her pain. Backing away from the road, she grabbed on the first thing she saw (in her case, it was the ladder of a fire escape) and started climbing up towards the roof. She couldn't spend another minute between people that would never even see her.

She sat on the edge of the roof and hid her face in her hands, allowing the tears to fall once more. As she kept thinking about her situation, more and more memories of her family would pop in her head, intensifying the pain and multiplying the tears.

A warm breath against her cheek made her turn and look up. The sight of a headless man atop a stallion, both of them made out of black crystal, greeted her eyes. A look of amazement passed over her eyes before she recognized her own doing on it. Slowly standing to her feet, she looked up at the horseman, through her tears. "I sent the Headless Horseman to protect me against a force I didn't know of?"

It was more of a statement than a question. Nevertheless, the Horseman jumped off of his horse and kneeled respectfully in front of her, his horse bowing its head.

She looked at them for a long moment, a tiny warm sensation returning inside of her. At least she could create some friends, even if they were infamous legends of children's stories.

And suddenly, it dawned on her. This power of hers was able to create mythical creatures and legendary figures, just as the Moon had told her. The spirit of legends. The title probably meant that her job was to create myths and stories for people to entertain themselves with or something sort of that.

The thought made her scowl. Not only she had lost her family, but now she was turned into a spirit with a job to do while enduring the loss of her loved ones and the loneliness of having no one to even see you. It made her heart harden to the point where she lost a whole part of her. The happy one.

She brought a hand to the Horseman's shoulder, making him stand. "Rise, Headless Horseman. For we have..."

She turned around and glanced at the face of the moon high in the night sky, eyes narrowing dangerously. The wind around her grew stronger and harsher, whipping her dark hair around her face violently, like long tendrils of darkness enveloping her in their sinister clutches, leaving only her purple orbs to shine with hate in the middle of the darkness.

"...a lot of work to do."