Note: Prepare yourself for a treat... a treat of pure Nightmare Before Christmas-ness... R & R, pretty please... this is my first fan-fiction of Nightmare Before Christmas... I'm surprised I haven't written hundreds... The first chapter is a little boring and so is the next... but trust me, you're in for a great story!! Sorry for all the beginning violence and deaths, but after that... Halloween Town! AND THE REAL STORY!! ... I'm expecting flames... They'll probably flame me for what I do to Jack... Tsk.

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Nightmare Before Christmas II

By Soraya L.

Prologue: Jack Skellington and Sally

Jack was a brilliant artist living in a quiet town in California... he had his own desk, his own stories, his own projects, and his own life... Just recently, he had been studying in the fine and modern arts, and had been trying to prove that he could draw the anatomy of a dog. He loved dogs more than anything, but never had one of his own until last year. He called his companion "Zero". It was 9:18 PM, and Jack was tapping impatiently on the piece of paper laid in front of him... He couldn't think of what to draw. Writers can easily get writer's block at a loss for words and ideas, as can artists get artist's block at loss for pictures and figures. He sighed... it was one of those times. There was the tapping of his pencil...

Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap.

He closed his eyes in annoyance, shook his head, and closed his art folder. Maybe he had to try again tomorrow... Sometimes that would do the trick. He smiled softly, shutting the large binder, and placing it in the bookshelf carefully, narrowing his eyes. "Good-night..." he said, going to bed at a decent early-riser time: 9:21 PM. Zero hopped onto his own little doggie bed, specially custom-made for him, and curled up into a little ball, smiling and closing his eyes. Jack turned off the light and looked: 9:22 PM. He shut his eyes.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

How could his life change so quickly!? Just yesterday he was leading a normal life as an artist, and now he was on the edge of life... meaning he was going to be murdered! He bounded as quickly as possible away from the streets and into the dark alleys... which sealed his doom. He ran swiftly, his black hair blowing in the wind, his large eyes blinking in horror, and his red clothes had 'death' marked all over them.

The shadow approached, knife in hand, and he heard footsteps. He closed his eyes, waiting for the end, and in a disguised, computerized voice, he heard, "I'm not done with you yet..." the voice was doubled, as if there were two people talking at the same time. He was very confused, he didn't know what to do... Suddenly, the shadow approached closer, "This is for being his favorite!!" he stabbed the knife toward Jack's chest, but missed and stabbed the brick wall as it crumbled from the force exerted on it... He struggled to pull the knife free, groaning with each motion of effort.

"Favorite!?" Jack shouted, dumbfounded and clueless of what to do, "What are you talking about!?" the knife was pulled free and lurched forward at him, and he ducked successfully... the shadow was indeed fat. "I am Jack Widowsworth. I'm an artist, I'm innocent! What have I ever done to you?!"

That knife pinned his shoulder to the wall... he screamed out in pain to feel the tension of ligaments and tendons ripped, and blood trickled out of the oozing wound. His eyes were watering, and his expression was the true definition of pain, "Tell me why you're doing this!!" he said in a whispering tone, weak from running for his life, and weak from the stab to his shoulder.

"Because you were his favorite!!" the shadow repeated himself, "Because you took him away from ME!" the face was visible in the moonlight, and Jack's amber eyes lit up in horror. It couldn't be him! He shook his head... Wake up, Jack! Wake up! This is a dream, right!? It wasn't a dream, was it? This couldn't be happening!

"No..." Jack said in a low tone, staring at the starry skies, and the lightning forming in the sky with loud thunder crashes... but no rain. There would be his murderer's face... who glared meanly at him, looking psychotic in every form. But that face was too familiar... he shook his head rapidly, trying to ignore the truth, but he couldn't... "No..." Jack repeated, shaking his head, and soon crying out with antagonizing pain, "NOO!!" he groaned as he felt the enemy's grip on the knife, "Why would you do this to me!?" Jack asked, "You're my brother, John!!"

The man glared evilly, "You were father's favorite... and now that he's dead... I can't tell him anything! It's all your fault!!" the grip tightened again, Jack screamed out in pain, and he felt the straining in his neck as if his lungs weren't suitable to breathe anymore. His eyes flashed wide, and his throat became dry, noises of choking and death occured in Jack's mouth. "I love to see you in pain..." John hissed in a gentle, yet horrifying way. Jack had never thought his brother would kill him... They were so close in age!

"Johnny... but why!?" Jack asked his older brother as the knife was pulled out of his shoulder, and now aiming lower than it. "We're brothers..." he choked under his breath, audible for John to hear, and tears streamed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry!!"

The sound of a knife piercing Jack's delicate flesh that enveloped his fragile ribcage, and hidden inside the chest was obvious -- a heart. The noise of blood dripping... oh, the violence... and from brother's jealousy. The sound of a body falling lifeless to the floor, and the knife being dropped... "Oh, what have I done..." John whispered, covering his eyes and running for the streets, leaving the innocent little brother lifeless on the cold ground, and then the rain started pouring, decaying the sweet flesh.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jack's mother was there at the funeral, the dear French lady adorned in beauty, Mathilde. Jack's father was the honorable Englishman, Harold, and Jack's grave was beside his father's. The funeral was quite dreary... settled in a dark forest always filled with fog, where it was always raining, where spiders inhabited the hollow willowtrees. Mathilde was beautiful as ever, but rather than her exquisite evening clothes, which were usually stylish and in the colors of pink and red with delicate white trimmings. She would wear the finest jewelry ranging from bracelets to a pearl necklace to a Venetian cross to gold and gems to diamond necklaces to ruby earrings... all wrapped in tiny black satin boxes.

Instead of all that adulation she always wore on her expression while when her husband was alive, instead of all the admiring glances at her beautiful figure, instead of all the sweet victory of being noticed as the most beautiful lady, and was never late, to top that off... Instead of her usual pretty self... Instead of her expensive furs and knee-height furry boots, lip-glosses, and make-up... She dressed plainly, not casually, but plainly... she did not wear fine clothes to this funeral.

Her friends said she looked extremely unhappy -- almost more unhappy than the day her husband had died! The look of beauty, grace, and charm was deminished. The natural poise, instinctive good taste, and mental cleverness as her guidelines were depleted. All of the above was neatly replaced with incessant grieving, she didn't want all the little niceties and luxuries of living, she wanted her little boy and her husband back!

She looked like a pauper that lived in a shabby little apartment with dingy walls, worn-out chairs, and ugly draperies... one who did her humble housework, which was usually the heavy housework and hateful duties of cooking. She looked as if she had been a maid all of her life: scouring the grease from pots and pans by wearing down her perfect French nails; scrubbing dirty linen, shirts, and cleaning rags; taking the garbage down to the street each morning and bringing up water; and she almost looked like a beggar, bargainer, or even worse -- a peasant!

Her perfect red hair was always tied up, but now it was untended to. She looked a lot older than her age -- she was forty-three but she looked sixty-six. Her face was red from weeping of vexation, regret, despair, anguish, hurt, and betrayal... Nobody knew the murderer of Jack Widowsworth. She begged to know, "Please, tell me who killed my youngest son! Tell me why he died!!" she would cry at the gloomy funeral, falling to her knees on the muddy floors, and covering her eyes with her once-perfect hands.

Not many people arrived at the funeral -- just a few close friends, relatives, neighbors who knew him, and of course, John. As Mathilde grimaced at the sight of her eldest son, John avoided her... he wondered if she knew who the real murderer was. It was too late... he couldn't bring Jack back, or his father... the father he wished to catch the attention for. Oh, well... John thought that his life was over once he saw his mother mourn so greatly. There was his little twin sister, as always, with her purse and make-up, a near-spitting-image of her mother... her name was Rosai, a strange name, but picked out by her mother, and she was named after her mother's best friend, whom happened to be Japanese.

John and Rosai put their arms around each other, John stared blankly while Rosai sniffed, allowing tears to stream down her cheeks, and sobs broke out. "Jack..." she mourned, "Poor Jack..." Rosai was older than Jack, but she loved him to death. When they were little, they used to dress each other up in women's clothes... oh, the good old days, and the good old photographs to prove it. "Will we ever see him again, John?" she asked, looking up at her older brother.

He shrugged, but then smiled, "You asked me the same thing when dad died..." Rosai chuckled under her breath, but then glared back down at the silent grave. She stepped forward, which caused John's first reaction to do was allow her to leave his grip of brother-sister affectionate... hug... ew. She stood at Jack's grave, allowing the rain to streak down her long red hair, and she closed her eyes, she shivered from the cold. Staring up into the sky, she smiled at the foggy afternoon skies. She looked back at lonely John, easily recognized by his bright red hair that matched Rosai's... She smiled at him, and turned around to place red roses by Jack's grave, and she sighed, "Rest peacefully, Jack... I'll see you tomorrow morning."

John was horrified by his sister's reaction... "See you tomorrow morning"? What kind of phrase was that to say to a dead brother? His green eyes glared evilly at the grave, and he still hated his little brother to death. Rosai approached her brother, and looked up at him with an apathetic expression, "Why?" she asked with a strange tone of voice, almost as if she was a robot. John gulped, almost revealing that he was the murderer, "Why did he have to die?" Rosai continued, glaring up at John, who didn't respond. "Tell me!" Rosai suddenly shouted, "Why did somebody kill him!? He's an innocent artist!"

John hated to see his sister's face right now... He didn't want to ever see her again! She was on Jack's side, making her a traitor, all he knew was that he was so GLAD that Jack was dead... he laughed everytime that poor, dead fool was mentioned in conversation. He nearly severed contact with his twin sister, ignoring her after she defended Jack at the funeral... he couldn't care less if the prodigy was dead... Heck, he was only 17 when he died. John and Rosai were 18. Yet, just a month after Jack's tragic death, John committed suicide -- drinking and gambling did him in when that speeding truck came. Rosai died of starvation, for she didn't eat after her twin brother had died.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jack awoke in Halloween Town... the unfamiliar place, but immediately he was crowned "Pumpkin King" after his heroic display of saving the town more than once after strange events occured. He became the master of terrors, the king of horror, Mr. Jack Skellington. He couldn't remember his last name, so he called himself "Jack Skellington", a well-suited name. He always wondered as he lived in this town... if John and Rosai were doing well... of course, he couldn't tell... he belonged to Halloween Town, dead. He never revealed how he was killed... he was afraid of his reputation of being the Pumpkin King, and he enjoyed giving children a good scare whenever Halloween rolled by.

He became very familiar with the town residents, including the Mayor, and the doctor named Finkelstein. His life was peaceful, but he did miss Zero and his desk... he would often be found drawing with his bony fingers into dust. He was very mysterious, but one day, Zero had died, and that's when they were reunited. One assignment, Finkelstein had "created" something... Finkelstein and Jack had searched for the answer to his problems, and they created a 'something'... The answer to his problems: a woman.

"It's genius!" Jack said at that time, "The answer to all my problems is her!"

"Remember, though, she is my creation." Doctor Finkelstein reminded the skeleton man as he opened a book of spells. Jack stared with wonder and fascination at the rag-doll, whom was lying on the operating table. "She can't move yet." Doctor Finkelstein sighed, "Her muscles need to heat up, that's all."

"She is amazing, Doctor." Jack said, lifting her off the operating table, causing the doctor to panic.

"Wait, she's not ready for -- !" Doctor Finkelstein warned.

"Aw, she'll be fine!" Jack assured him, and he took the girl in his arms, exiting the laboratory.

It took a while to get to the Spiral Hill, and when he got there, he settled her down... they sat there silently, until she made a few groaning sounds in a drowsy effort to speak, but slurred words escaped her delicious lips. "Whoa, there." Jack said, cooing gently, passing a bony hand through her long red hair... he froze to look at her, noticing she looked a lot like Rosai... Did Rosai die? "What's your name?" he asked curiously... maybe the doctor used Rosai's soul or something creepy to bring this rag-doll to life. If so, he did NOT want to fall in love with his big sister.

"S --" the woman gasped, okay, so her name wasn't 'Rosai'. "Sah --" her voice was beautiful, but very unused. Jack nodded in encouragement, and she smiled sincerely, tilting her head in different directions, trying to grab the proper sound, before she hissed like a gentle garden snake, "Saaaaally."

"Sally?" Jack repeated, stroking her face, and she smiled in return as if she could actually feel him.

"Sally." she confirmed, nodding her head slowly, as Jack's expression lit up.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Wh -- Where am I?"

John opened his eyes... He was a bug. In a squeaky voice, he shrieked loudly, cursing in a bug language. "JACKDAMNYOUNOWI'MABUGCAUSEIKILLEDYOUANDITSALLYOURFAULT!!!" He shouted for twenty minutes on end, preoccupied enough to not notice the area he was in.

"Do you know the power you possess?"

John's eyes widened, and he looked around, terrified. "Jack, is that you? Coming back to haunt me!?"

"No."

"... Good!" John sighed in relief, but noticed that the voice was very feminine. "Wait, who are you?"

"Ro -- Rosai."

"Rosai, you came here, too!?" John asked, "Wait, that means you've died!"

"Y-Yes." Rosai replied, sighing.

"What do you look like?" John asked, curious in tone.

"I'll never show up ever again..." Rosai swore, "If this is afterlife, I hope I fade to dust and never resurrect."

"Whoa, calm down." John said, "Look at me, Rosy. I'm a bug! You can't get any worse than this!!"

"... Really?" Rosai asked shyly.

"Really!" John nodded. "C'mon, twin, lemme see your face!" he said, but he did not expect to see what he saw. There was nobody there. He called Rosai's name several times, but she kept on replying that she was standing right in front of him. "Wait... that's you!?" John asked in terror to see... a black cat.

"Yes." Rosai grimly replied with regret written all over her face, "I came to join you, brother."

"Oh, Rosai..." John whispered before a strange power overcame him.

"John..." she whispered before she collapsed motionless to the floor.

An evil figure stood above them, grinning at the sight.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Upon seven months of knowing each other, Jack decided to celebrate by finding something new and different for Sally. He decided to wander around Halloween Town when he found a strange-looking door to a sort of lair. He went inside, pondering at the strange decorations and statues... "What is this?" he said to himself.

"Jack."

Jack's eyes widened, "John."

"John? Who's that? I've given up that name long ago..."

"Where's Rosai!?" Jack shouted at the empty hallways, looking up with fear written all over him. "Tell me where you've taken her!"

"As if I'd harm the girl that rested in the womb with me." the oh-so-familiar voice cooed, causing Jack to groan with disgust to hear his murderer's voice.

"John!!" Jack cried out with a threatening tone in his voice. "Stop riddling me!"

"If I could be generous to let her be beside me in that tiny cramped place inside a human female..." the voice continued mysteriously, "Don't you think I wouldn't do anything to her?" He had a point... Jack knew that.

"But what do you mean by the fact that you've given up your name long ago!?" Jack called out, "Exactly how long have you been dead?"

"Just about a month shorter than you!" the voice replied, echoing out.

He remembered his chubby older brother and his thin and delicate older sister... Where were they? Jack was skinnier than them both, and was more of a love child... knowing that the twins were definitely born by accident. But surely he would be able to recognize them in the afterlife, right? And he did. "Tell me, imposter, what is your name?" Jack called out.

"Me?" there was silence, and spotlights flickered on to the center of the room, "I'm not this 'John' that you talk about... my name is... OOGIE BOOGIE!!" Jack's eyes widened to see his chubby older brother and what he looked like in the afterlife... he looked like a sack of potatoes, but rather than the white, dark-skinned vegetables, he was filled up with bugs. He was horrified to see John, who was now known as Oogie Boogie.

"Oogie!?" Jack said, "No... John!!"

"John is gone." a female voice said.

"Rosai?!" Jack called out.

"Rosai is gone." the female voice said.

"You, too!?" Jack wept silently, "No!"

Rosai was the eternal black cat and John was now his worst enemy... How could life be so unpredictable and so heartbreaking? His siblings gaining revenge... Oogie Boogie had opened up a lair, the black cat known as Hell-Cat, operated Oogie's lair. Jack fell to his knees sobbing loudly, but all was silent... Had he faded away from grief?

"Jack..."

He opened his eyes. "Sally?"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

2 Years after the events of Nightmare Before Christmas

Jack awoke in his bed, panting frantically, looking around in the complete darkness. Was that all a dream? Not a dream, but a flashback. All those events really did happen. That was the first time he had ever looked back in a long time. Although, he had to admit that stealing Christmas didn't feel as terrible as this.

"What's wrong, Jack?" Jack looked over to the side to see his lover, Sally, who wore the engagement ring around her finger.

"Oh, Sally." Jack said, wrapping his arms around her, "I'm sorry... It was a terrifying dream!"

"Shh..." Sally said, stroking his face as he had done to her before so many times. "Was it about Oogie?"

"And Hell-Cat..." Jack added with a face of concern and regret, but Sally replied with a sincere smile as her small, red-nailed, stitched hand traced over the bumpy, bony texture of Jack's skull. She shook her head, keeping the smile, and Jack smiled in return, "You're right... I shouldn't worry, but it was so terrible. My siblings... They're against me because of my father's death!"

"Shh..." Sally repeated her action, but rather than stroking his face, she placed a hand on his shoulder and one on her stomach. "You're going to wake him up."

"Sorry..." Jack said, grinning slightly... in two days, he and Sally would be married... in one month, their child would be born. He kissed her, running a hand through her yarn, red hair. She smiled in return, and he closed his eyes of exhaustion.

"Just try to get some sleep, okay?" Sally said, lying back down.

"Okay..." Jack sighed, closing his eyes.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Oh, Jack, where are you!?" Sally was running through the woods, holding a baby wrapped in a cloth. She was hiding from the shadows -- those who avenged the death of Oogie that happened three years ago. "Get away from me!" she cried out whenever they came close, and she buried her face in the cloth occasionally.

Through the dark, foggy woods, almost a spitting image of the cemetery Jack's body was lying in underground. Her long red hair blowing carelessly in the wind, her stitched legs barely able to run any longer, and tears streaming out of her eyes. Where was Jack? Why wasn't he here? The answer was simple: he was busy saving the town with the Mayor, leaving his wife and his child alone. Sally's eyes shut tight, and she tripped over a branch, but landed so that she wouldn't crush the baby.

She lied stiffly on the ground, her chest rising and falling from stiff breathing, and her tired eyes trailed up to see the baby's skeleton hand reach out. "No..." she whispered under her breath. 15-year-old Lock was the crazy boy in a layered demon suit, but rather than a mask, his face was actually mutated demonic and grotesque. She whispered 'no' again under her breath, watching the boy pick up her baby, and her eyes filled with anger, but she couldn't move... she was too weak and too tired, and her stitches were coming loose.

"A mighty fine baby." Lock muttered, examining the child, "But rather monstrous-looking... a crossbreed between a skeleton and a rag-doll... a pitiful match." he glared at Sally, "You know Jack has a reputation to protect and you trashed it... He can never be the Pumpkin King! Oogie Boogie is destined to rule!!"

"No, he's not!" Sally said, struggling to her knees, "I'm his wife! You have no say in this and neither does the town! We have our own lives... a family to raise!"

"Oh, is that so." Lock said, ascetic and thoughtful, and he contemptuously tossed the baby aside, but it was caught safely in the arms of Shock.

"Stop that!" Sally shouted, staggering, helplessly trying to stand. "Leave my baby alone!"

"The child looks more like Jack, anyhow." Shock mused, staring at the angry rag-doll, and never had anyone seen Sally so angry.

Sally was unable to catch up with them, already she was out-of-breath, and it was too late as she saw them careening down the hills. She sobbed, feeling like a terrible mother. "Sally." Jack said, approaching her at a running pace, "Where's the baby!?" he looked concerned, "Sally, where's our child?"

Sally incessantly sobbed, before she could reply, "Oogie has her."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The end!! Just kidding, this is the mere prologue to the story. I hope you enjoyed a fabulous prologue, and I am constantly updating, seriously... I love Nightmare Before Christmas... and I had a dream about Jack and Sally's child... it was awesome. So now I'm writing down the wonderful story. I love love love love love it. R & R, please, critisize and praise... Although, I hope I don't get too pounded on... oo It was just a dream that occured to me simply.

Should I continue or hide under my bed and never write again? Well, I'm uploading the chapters anyway, so no matter if you flame me or not, that's not really going to scar me, but I love every review, bad or good... makes me stronger to create amazing stories. Yes, the prologue was amazingly LONG. I didn't know that the beginning could be so horribly loooooooooong. But here it is. Ta-dah.

I will update a lot tonight... When I started writing this... Uh, look at the beginning where Jack's an artist, and now it is... 10:59 PM. Expect more chapters!