I honestly don't really know what to put here, except that I don't own any of Disney's characters, probably never will, the only thing I own is this story and my OC's. This is the first fanfiction. . .make that story in general. . .I've ever written. I decided to go with a movie that didn't have much popularity, that way if the story was really bad I wouldn't completely slaughter the universe XD. Disney about butchered this one anyway so I don't have to do nothin' lol! The Horned King is one of my favorite villains anyway so yeah. . .I love his design a LOT. That's the only thing Disney rocked at with this thing XD.

But enough of my ranting/fangirling. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it;) Please feel free to review:)

Chapter 1

Taran fell to the stone floor as the force of the Cauldron tugged against him from all the way across the room. It ruffled his clothes and hair in almost a teasing way, reeking of Death, as it whispered in his ear.

"Come boy," it whispered. "Join me. . ."

The boy felt himself go cold and clammy as a dead frog. Terrified, he weakly tried to grab the large ring above his head that was bolted into one of the massive stone pillars that held up the ceiling. The air whistled in his ears as he made another grab for the ring, the little voice no longer sounding teasing.

"Co...ome...j...join meee..." It hissed.

Taran shivered as he finally caught the ring in his grip and pulled himself to his feet. The wind nearly yanked his legs out from under him as he held on for all he was worth. He had thought not three minutes ago that the Horned King was the most evil creature in the entire world, but now he changed his mind. The Horned King might have been a royal adviser compared to this voice in the wind of the Cauldron. If the Horned King was the epitome of evil, then this was a thousand times worse. Nothing could compare.

"Come," it hissed in his ear, "Join. . . .Meeeee."

Taran flinched when his body banged hard against against the pillar as the Cauldron continued to inhale anything that was not nailed down.

'Thank goodness Eilonwy and Fflewddur made it out in time,' he thought.

The boy was so busy hanging onto the ring for his life, he didn't notice the being approaching in the hall to his right, holding another in its tight grip. . .

"No, Sire, please, no!" The little green goblin begged, nearly sobbing, as he struggled in his master's grip of steel.

"Have Mercy!" He choked as his airway was nearly held shut by the hand around his throat.

His master wasn't listening.

"Get up!" His master shouted at the pile of skeletons lying against the walls and on the floor all around them. He kicked one up to his hand with surprising speed and shook it by its collar with enough force to break a living man's neck.

"Come alive!"

If one was listening, perhaps they would have caught desperation, denial, and maybe pain in the undead being's voice. But no one was, and the armored skeleton only seemed to grin mockingly at the one who spoke, its blank eye sockets gazing at him from under its steel helmet in perhaps a silent laugh, as its bones and armor clanked lifelessly together.

"Maybe they all be a restin', Sire," the little goblin said nervously as he tugged on his master's robe. Suddenly grabbing the head of one skeleton warrior that happened to be lying right below him, he shook it and shouted in its face,

"DO SOMETHING! My LIFE is at STAKE!"

But he got the same treatment from the skeleton as his master had.

The goblin's statement snapped the last bit of composure his master possessed.

"Get Up You Fools!" His master snarled as he threw the skeleton he was still holding to the floor, "KILL!"

Suddenly, the undead being's eyes lit up a bright, deathly blood red in their normally black sockets in pure, undiluted rage, and the little goblin stifled a yelp of fear. When his master was this angry, someone's head was going to roll, and usually it was the head of the person closest to him. . .which in this case was Creeper, the goblin.

'Do something, do something!' He thought in terror, and his eyes frantically lit on the Pig-Boy directly across from them in the room the Cauldron had been placed, gripping a ring bolted to the wall as the Cauldron's wind tugged on him relentlessly.

"Look!" Creeper shouted in complete panic as his master lifted him to eye level, his red eyes burning like flames, "Sire, Look!"

He pointed frantically in the boy's direction.

"The Pig-Boy! Its his fault! HE's the cause of it!"

Creeper shook his arm in the boy's direction desperately, and his master gave him a slitted, sidelong glance of fury before abruptly dropping him to the hard stone floor, forgotten. All his attention was on the boy now.

Taran looked up to his right as a shadow fell over him. . .and stared straight up into the skeletal face and flaming, raging eyes of the Horned King.

"You've interfered for the last time," the lich seethed, as he raised his hands toward Taran as a snake might move into position to strike, his long-clawed fingers splaying open.

Creeper, in crazed relief that it wouldn't be him that died today by his master's hand, shrieked in glee from the far wall.

"Go for his throat, Sire!" He cackled as he jumped up and down like a heint.

"Now, Pig-Keeper," the Horned King snarled, all of his terrible teeth and fangs bared in his gaunt face like a rabid wolf, "You, Shall, Die!"

Taran stared in total horror for a moment, before pulling his brows down in determination. He tried to pull his legs up in under him so he could get away, but the Cauldron's pulling power had increased so much he couldn't do much more than flap in the wind. The Horned King, despite being undead and very zombie-like, struck with the speed of a viper at Taran's throat. Taran turned his head as the Horned King lunged, so his attacker got his chin, jawline and cheekbones instead.

"No!" Taran cried, muffled, as he struggled against the lich. As the Horned King lifted him him off the ground, Taran found some momentum to fold his legs up and kick the Horned King in the stomach, causing him to stumble backward and lose his hold on the boy. The Horned King loosed a sound more of surprise than pain as he was pushed backward by Taran, then forward as the Cauldron's wind began to sweep him past the boy and drag him across the room.

"What is this?" The lich snarled as he dug his claws into the very pillar Taran was gripping, his nails screeching something unearthly as they scraped across the stone, trying to hold him in place, but he couldn't find a grip. He pushed against the wind with all his might, his flaming eyes fixed on the Pig-Boy just out of arm's reach. The little whelp looked back at him with wide eyes before grabbing the stone pillar in an attempt to get away.

"No, you'll not escape!"

The Horned King declared as he grabbed the back of the boy's shirt, the only thing he could reach. He pulled the Pig-Keeper roughly to him, causing the boy to lose his grip on the ring he had clung to for so long. Lifting him clean off the ground as the wind screamed around them both, the Horned King snarled in the boy's terrified face. In this dim lighting he looked absolutely demonic as he pulled his arm back and threw the boy with unreal strength across the room to land at the foot of the little platform the Black Cauldron stood upon.

"YOU can satisfy the Cauldron's Hunger!"

Looking up, the Horned King realized that in the battle the wind had pulled him halfway across the room towards the thing of which he spoke, so he turned, fighting the roaring wind, and started to plow his way back to the hall he had entered by, his robes and fur stole flapping in the wind as he bowed his head against the screaming, invisible mass.

Taran had been stunned when he hit the hard floor, but as he regained movement in his limbs he gripped the deep grooves in the stone floor as tight as he could to avoid letting the wind pull him up the steps into the Cauldron, narrowing his eyes against the unearthly gale.

The Horned King could not make it back to the hall. He couldn't even make it to the pillar and the ring, which was clanking against the stone as the wind battered it, taunting him. The wind was much stronger now than it had been only a few moments ago, and for every step he took, he slipped back three.

Slowly, as if enjoying his new toy, the wind began to drag the Horned King back across the room towards the Cauldron.

"No! You'll not have me!"

He cried as he struggled defiantly.

"My POWER cannot die!"

As the Horned King was pulled nearer the Cauldron, the side lit up with an evil red light, and he could see the face of the very man this Cauldron had been made for to entrap in the first place. It filled him with a terror he had never known in his entire, evil life. He was so close to the Cauldron now his fur stole was brushing the mouth of it.

"Curse YOU!"

He screamed as his red eyes widened in horror and realization of what was about to happen.

Slowly, yet never stopping, the wind pulled him up against the mouth of the Cauldron. His clothes began to shred and rip from the force of it. In one final, futile attempt to win, the Horned King gripped the mouth of the Cauldron to keep himself away, but it was fruitless.

Taran watched in wide-eyed horror as the Horned King's flesh began to come away from his form. The Horned King let out the longest, most wrenching, anguished, ear-shattering, unworldly scream Taran had ever heard in his life as, right before the boy's eyes, the lich's body was torn to pieces. The Horned King skeleton jerked and shook in spasms as the fire from the Cauldron consumed it in one fell swoop. Then, with a burst of fire and green mist, darkness consumed everything.