It was amusing, watching him try to contain his fear. There was a time where Pitch had used his powers for the benefit of others. Fear had many uses, and although it was unpleasant, fear was also necessary. Spiders, for example, a rational fear. Many are poisonous, they bite, they lay eggs. He had planted such fears in others to keep them alive, to keep them safe. But the world was ungrateful and Pitch had abandoned mercy long ago.
As the man shoved himself to his feet, Pitch could feel the fear radiating off of his body. It sent a surge of energy through his veins. A funny thing, the nature of fear. The more you felt it, the more power it held.
He let the boy squirm for a while longer, picking through his fears as the spiders crawled up his body, skittering up his neck and cheeks. Inadequacy seemed to be a prevalent theme with this one. It was good, but it needed to be rooted down, tied to something that mattered. A name rang in his ears, a face flashing before Pitch’s eyes. Pitch smiled. With his magic, he summoned a voice. Her voice. He let it echo softly through the room, calling for help, calling for this boy, this Flynn Rider-no- Eugene. He let her voice start out small, more the cry of a phantom, something that could be confused with memory.
it was terrifying, that much was true. flynn refused to let himself scream, even as he felt hundreds of spiders crawl up his body--he was alone in this cell, he knew, but screaming would alert anyone near enough to hear him. he could be scared on the inside, of course he could, but he would never show a weakness to someone who could use it against him.
spiders were, well, they were a childhood fear rooted in his nightmares. but, objectively, he knew spiders wouldn’t kill him. he could, if he was forced to, deal with them. even if he felt like screaming until his throat was raw, spiders were just spiders; small creatures that were disgusting and awful, yes, but just spiders.
but then, then. he heard her voice; no, no it couldn’t be. there was no reason for her to be there. she should be in her castle with her parents, far away from whatever personal hell flynn was currently experiencing. he shook his head, trying to clear both the sound of her voice and the spiders crawling there. it had to just be his head playing tricks on him; awful, horrible, cruel tricks on him, but tricks none the less. when he heard her call his name--his real name--he couldn’t stop himself from rushing to the cell door, his hands gripping the iron bars tightly. he didn’t let himself call out for her, not yet; her voice wasn’t real, it couldn’t be; he convinced himself of that, even if all he could hear was her voice, his erratic breathing, and his heartbeat in his ears.
