Prologue:

"I don't want to do this to you."

With a slash of his sword, he sliced the old man's face, resulting in blood splattering the walls and floors. the old man panicked as he choked on his own spit and blood, He could feel his time coming to an end.

"Oh, what am I saying?" He raised the long blade above the old man's chest, "I love this."

For a moment he looked into his eyes, so cold and scared. Of course, that's what made Pitch stop and watch as the life of this man sank. It wasn't everyday he came across someone like him, someone at all actually. Pitch swiftly jerked the sword into the old man's stomach, but stopped just to where the tip of the blade pierced into his rib. He was checking to see if he'd cooperate this time. "Are you going to tell me where it is now?" Pitch's voice was smooth as butter.

The old man's gravelly voice croaked out a "N-no, P-Pitch". He was in the most pain he's ever felt in decades.

Pitch sighed in response, shaking his head. "Well then," he said, "I guess if you don't want to tell me where it is..." He inched his long face closer and closer to the old man with each syllable. "Then I guess you're going to have to die."

The old man gave no emotion to Pitch's threat and continued shivering with fright. "E-even if you d-do kill me," he struggled with every word, "you'll never find the machine anywhere."

In such surprise, Pitch gasped and roared out a manic laugh. "Ahh, of course!" Blood was pouring from the old man's chest as Pitch sunk the sword into his heart. The old man's cry of anguish echoed throughout the dark cave.

"P-Please don't do this!"

The sword impaled the old man even further. "Why shouldn't I?"

"B-becau-"

"Because of this?" The old man's eyes widened out of pure horror! Pitch held up a key the size of a pen. It was gold with an accent of greens and turquoise. Tiny stars as well as curvy lines decorated the key like vines hugging an abandoned home. It shined when peaked into the light. "I just wanted to see you struggle," Pitch giggled.

"How did you-"

"This old thing?" Pitch interrupted, gazing lovingly at the key. "I swiped it as I brought you to my humble abode." Pitch raised both of his arms, referring to the dark cave surrounding the two. Shadows as dark as ink plastered every surface, creaky bird cages swung on the ceilings, and eerie howls of moaning cries bled through the walls.

"You wouldn't t-take my machine-e! Y-you don't know how to use it!"

Pitch flashed a devilish grin. "With access to your time machine, all of humanity will bow down to my feet."

And before the old man could make any effort of protest, Pitch jabbed his weapon into the man's heart a little further. the old man gargled his last breath as his head dramatically collapsed to the hard concrete. As Pitch promptly removed the sword from the man's body, the remains disintegrated into golden dust, and blew out of the Nightmare King's sight.

Pitch smirked with delight.

Father Time had been killed.