Late evening. You're tossing and turning in your bed from horrible nightmares, and suddenly you wake up abruptly in a cold sweat. Above you stands Pitch Black. He is surrounded by nightmarish spirits in the form of horses. Smoothly black smoke drifts across the floor. Pitch presses his fingers tightly against your forehead As you can see, I don't just come to children. Too bad you're already awake, or I was just starting to have fun. Now I order you to go back to sleep.