Gothel was furious.

How dare her daughter, the one she raised, the one she cared for for seventeen and a half years, turn on her, and try to kill her? How dare she try and run away, taking away the one thing Gothel loved the most.

Her daughter's hair.

"Stupid brats," she muttered bitterly, hunched over a crystal ball. She was looking into the ball, which showed the kingdom of Corona, happily rejoicing about the recent engagement of the princess to a bandit named Flynn Rider. "If not for that cursed Flynn Rider…"

A thought popped in her head. Instead of stealing Rapunzel back, to prove a point, maybe she should kill her instead. Right in front of the Flynn's eyes. Then, she would kill him.

She laughed inwardly. That would be easy, almost too easy. The two lovebirds thought she was dead, due to the fact that she "fell" out of a window and quickly crumbled to dust. The idiots forgot she was a powerful witch, and didn't bother to check if she was dead.

Yes, she turned old. But that was thanks to that horrible bandit, that thief that stole Rapunzel's precious hair. She was about to get her revenge—so she stepped away from the ball and start plotting.

Mor'du was furious.

All of his fury was directed toward a red-haired nuisance, the one that he remembered as a little girl. He wanted her dead, entrails littering his cave, and maybe her mother too. She was the one that truly stopped him. Banging his head against a rock—not very clever, but primal.

As a human turned into a bear, he had the ability to think like a human, but with bear needs and thoughts, within reason. Sometimes, when he felt all of his emotion gather, he could think like a man for months. However, once that emotion died down, he would become another bear—that which was stronger and better than all the other bears.

He just wished he could be man again. Rule over that cursed kingdom, that weak one who had only just been formed, the one that the redhead was going to rule one day. He felt his fury surge as he thought of that girl finding out he was still alive and hunting him down once more.

He survived that rock, just barely, because he was no ordinary bear. He was the legendary Mor'du, the one who bit off the leg of the greatest warrior in that kingdom, the one who would do anything to get great power. He was meant to lead.

So he would become human once more, defeat that petty girl and her family, and rule over their people like a proper rule should. With an iron fist.

He bared his teeth, in slight joy, at the thought of her family dying before her eyes, knowing she could not do anything to save them.

It was the perfect plan. Now to put it into effect.

Alvin the Treacherous was furious.

Curse the wit of Stoick's boy. If not for his clever mind and cunning wit, he would have had the boy! He could have finally paid back Stoick for what he did to him. Banishing him for only killing a man—though, Alvin thought, he did get a little out of hand. But he was drunk, for Odin's sake!

And thanks to that boy, his own people now doubted him, however slightly, in his strength! He roared in anger.

He would have to kill that boy, and his father. Yes, kill the boy in front of that idiotic Stoick's eyes. And he would kill that blonde girl too, the one who fought with him, even though she lost. He thought back to the battle on the island, the moment when the boy stood up to him to protect the unconscious blonde.

He chuckled darkly, a plan hatching in his mind. He would kill the girl in front of the boy, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, and his father too, would die in front of his eyes. However, he would keep the boy alive to be his slave. He grinned wide at the thought of his own slave. One who could train dragons!

It would take more thought than just attacking the island. He had tried that, and failed. It was going to be harder than he thought.

Pitch Black was furious.

Jack Frost, the cause of his second downfall, the reason he lost, was still having fun. Pitch wanted to destroy that fun, the fun that beat back fear.

He was most angry at the pest, more than all of the other four Guardians combined. Thanks to Jack Frost, he had to again bide his time, working up an army again. It took him eleven hundred years to restore his power, and he thought he ha the Guardians finished off—but all thanks to that icy smart alleck, he had lost.

He vowed to come back, and destroy the Guardians and Jack, for once and all. No matter what the cost, they would experience the pain he felt—the pain of not being believed in.

He had stretched his hand out to the boy, tried to make him feel welcome on his side, after the Guardians shunned him, but he just turned his back on him. No one turns their back on Pitch Black.

He had a plan, in fact, not to destroy Jack, but to turn him against the Guardians. Easier said than done.

He would defeat Jack by using his Nightmares, and capture him. He would use an arrow, similar to the one he hit the Sandman with.

He smiled at the thought of Jack Frost, at his side, hurting Tooth, North, Bunnymund, and North.

He could once again rule the world with fear. All he needed was some allies.

And he knew exactly what mortals to pick.