Giving Jewel half of his brain hadn't been the wisest choice, Doctor Finklstein pondered in hindsight. Of course the creature was made in his own image, sharing not only his brain and features, but his own attitude. It didn't take long for her to grow smart, too smart, as smart as him, and start doing more than household chores, instead making her own creations and devices, and eventually left the house to fall to pieces. Adamantly refusing to do any of the original 'programming', so to speak, she was assigned to do, he felt no other choice then to create yet another doll.

But this time, he refused to make any mistakes. Not like with Sally, not like with Jewel.

A stitched up amalgram of flesh and cloth lay yet again before him - the youngest thing he had created. She was smaller, younger looking, barely passing for a child of 16- and that was in the cold, harsh light of his lab. She had a small, round face, and inky black hair made of thread and raven feathers. Stitches ran all over her body and face; black, tight lines that made her deathly blue skin pale in comparison.

Unlike Jewel, he gave her no part of his brain. Her head was stuffed with leaves and dust, like the rest of her. Any problems that arisedfrom that would easily be taken care of. And unlike Sally, he made her less fair, still lovely in her own right, he supposed. And unlike either of them, he gave her a fragile heart - perhaps the one of a rabbit, maybe even a bird. Labels tended to smudge some in this town.

A fragile heart to make her skittish and fearful of the world, youth to have authority over her, and thoughts he would be able to mold more to his liking.

'No mistakes this time,' he thought, giving Igor the signal to pull the lever and bring his new creation to life. 'None.'

When the electricity died down, and the work slab lowered back to his level, Doctor Finklestien maneuvered his chair to the side of table, feeling the heat of the electricity die off, quickly becoming cold. He watched carefully for any signs of movement, hoping that the 'not having a brain' issue would really affect a rag-doll. Even Sally had been given a brain-maybe one too curious, and too quick for his needs.

The rag-doll's hand tremored under the wrist-cuffs, and the eyes began to flutter open, revealing eyes that were round and wide, and that looked the room, scanning everything and anything before coming to rest on the Doctor. He watched as her pupils shrank in fear, and she jerked to move away, only to find she was bound. She made a small whimpering noise, afraid. He shushed her, patting the back of her hand.

"You are safe, my dear," he began quietly. "I'm going to release the binds. Do not run off, understand?"

She swallowed, and nodded her head. He pressed a button and they released with a loud click, and she jumped again.

"I am Doctor Finklestein. I created you here, in my lab. Do you understand?"

She nodded again, and he continued.

"Stand up off the table. Be careful- you were just brought to life, and you can't do much."

The rag-doll gingerly propped herself up, swinging her legs off the table. She stared at the dark floor below her feet, and slowly slid down to meet it. Her knees nearly gave out beneath her, and she wobbled, clinging to the slab for support before finding her balance. She slowly let go of the table, standing on her own. The Doctor smiled, and nodded.

"Excellent. Now, walk to that table across from you," he commanded, moving his wheelchair out of her way, and gestured to a small table covered in blueprints. She looked from him to the table and at her own feet and back, fear in her eyes. "Well, go on then!"

She carefully placed a foot in front of her, placing her weight on it before bringing the other forward, and continued this until she reached the table, and came back again. The Doctor nodded- it would take her time to get used to motor functions. But now to test if she could speak.

"Can you tell me who I am?"

The doll looked at him, and slowly answered, unsure of her own tongue. "Y-you're Doc-Doctor Finklestein. You c-c-created m-me."

"Good. Well done, my dear. Now I suppose you need a name now, hmm?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Wren, I suppose. It suits you nicely," he said. "Now come along, there is much for us to do, Wren."

"Yes, sir," the newly-named Wren said, gaining confidence in her speech and walk as she slowly followed. But in her head, all she could do was repeat 'Wren Wren Wren' like a little melody.

As the next few days unfolded, Wren figured out the concept of walking - as falling and catching oneself as gracefully as possible - as well as a quite a few chores. However, the wind at night frightened her, and all the loud noises from both inside and outside the lab madethe heart in her chest want to leap straight out of her and into her cooking pot. She was intimidated by the tall, proud Jewel, who begrudgingly walked her through the steps of the household chores, and by her own creator, who seemed to see her as a servant - 'then again', she thought, 'that's what I was created for'.

Not that she minded, of course. The world outside her window was larger and more frightening than the one inside, and was one she knew little about so far. But she couldn't help but be curious about all the strange people that ran around to and fro through the square she could see, between the strange lopsided houses and stores, and when the day was clear enough, her curiosity drew her all the way to the forest bordering the cemetery. But that world was unsafe. She was delicate, the Doctor told her, and far too young to go out on her own. And even when she was old enough, the world was too dangerous for someone so flighty.

It didn't mean she couldn't admire it, in its strange and terrible wonder.

But it was far too loud, with too many sudden screams and shouts and bangs. She sank away from the window each day until the moon rose, and most of the activity died out. Jewel told her, with a dismissive wave of a hand as she made her way back up to the lab, that they were making preparations for Halloween, and it was always loudest the month of. They were in Halloweentown after all; it's to be expected. And Wren slowly grew accustomed, still on edge and ready to duck away as far as she could from the opening to that forbidden world. But the concept of Halloween fascinated her- but it frightened her- and she decided to try to have nothing to do with it, instead opting to read about it in her spare time.

The Doctor had insisted on her developing her mind between chores. She was one of his creations- she would never be dull. So he gave her piles of books from his library- nothing too complex and nothing on botany or herbology, at least until he could trust her- and bid her to read them, one being a book specifically on Halloweentown and it's holiday.

It was one day while reading this book that the Lab got a pair of strange visitors - at least, strange to her. One was a tall skeleton in a pinstripe suit who towered seemingly as tall as a tree. The other was a shorter, delicate rag-doll in black and white with long red hair that rested on his arm.

Wren, pulled from the kitchen and her book at the command for tea, stared at them as they made their way up the ramp behind the Doctor and Jewel. She felt her own hand come up to her face, tracing the lines of stitches that ran over her cheeks, nose and eyes, comparing what she saw on the other rag-doll to her. She was so similar to her! It was such a phantom concept that she nearly forgot about the tea, and quickly assembled everything together and brought it up to them.

Wren stiffly placed the silver and bone tray in front of them, and moved back a few paces to watch them. The other rag-doll regarded her with as much curiosity as Wren felt toward her as she thanked her for the teas and the skeleton, who had also scanned her before looking back at Sally. They didn't say anything about her, quickly moving to some sort of device the Doctor had been working on for the upcoming celebration, the conversation drawing quiet. Wren's hearing hadn't fully developed yet, and their quiet voices fell short of her.

Then suddenly she heard the skeleton speak. He had a low, nice sort of voice for someone without a vocal tract, even if it did startle her.

"Well, Doctor, aren't you going to introduce us to your newest creation?"

Wren froze, knowing that he was referring to her as all eyes settled in her direction. The Doctor coughed, and beckoned her to come closer. She crept forward, keeping her eyes on the tea tray and nowhere else, lest she panic and succumb to the screaming voice in her head that said to flee.

"This is Wren. Jewel had developed a taste for lab work" this was said with a tinge of disdain " and needs help to keep the house in order. Wren, say hello."

"Hello," she said quietly, with a small wave, glancing up at the two of them for a split second. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Wren, this is the Pumpkin King, Jack Skellington, and his wife, and my former creation, Sally. You know doubt have seen some likeness between the two of you," the Doctor said. She slowly nodded. "Now, please clear the tea and head back to the kitchen. Now about that fog machine..."

She nodded, stacking the cups on the tray and picked it up, looking once more at the strange pair. Jack looked at her with a mix of curiosity, and maybe even worry, while Sally looked at her with a sort of understanding one outside of Wren's position would call motherly. Wren nodded once more in their direction, before returning back to her kitchen and her book, and wondered if Sally ever sat on the same counter, reading the same historic tome many years ago. The thought brought her comfort, and she couldn't place why.

And that night, the wind seemed less like a cry, and more of a soothing caress as it flowed through the window to tousle her hair. Maybe outside wasn't as frightening as she thought, if someone like her was out there.