Finally! I'm DONE with this story!
It took WAY longer than I thought it would….and was WAY longer than I thought it would be.
But I'm FINALLY done!
Anyway, YES, this IS an Edward Scissorhands/Coraline crossover. I got the idea after reading a few stories about Kim's granddaughter, and wondered what it would be like if said granddaughter was actually Coraline. I've already decided that Victor and Victoria (from the Corpse Bride) were Jack Skellington's parents, so this really wasn't so much of a stretch….
Okay, maybe it WAS, but come on!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this strange little story!
How can anyone live like this? Coraline thought as she tread carefully along the creaky wooden floorboards of the old sullen mansion, it looks like it'll cave in any minute. Grimacing, she pushed the thought from her mind, focusing instead on the task at hand.
It had come as quite a shock when her family had received a call about her grandmother's hospitalization, and even more so when the doctors told them she may not even make it through the week. Something to do with breathing, maybe? She didn't know. Her grandmother had always seemed so frail, the problem really could stem from a number of things. Of course, no one had bothered explaining it to her. Despite her age, in the eyes of her family, Coraline Jones remained a quirky, troublesome eleven-year-old girl with a short attention span. Nothing more than a child who should forever remain indifferent to the big picture known as life. Not the budding young adult she actually was.
A chilling breeze tickled her bare arm, but she paid it no heed. After living so long in the Pink Palace, with the freezing rain and bitter winds, she hardly considered the autumn air of Burbank California cold. More like, distracting. After all, the last time she'd visited her grandmother had been over Christmas vacation so many years ago.
Sighing to herself, she jumped over a hole in the floor, now only feet away from the haunting staircase she'd heard so much about but had never laid eyes on until this very moment. It looked….different than her grandmother had described it: no doubt worn away with age and neglect. The railing lining the stone walls contained several indentations and scratch marks, like someone or something had tried and failed to grab hold of it—indeed, a dark stain below on one of the steps confirmed that much. She grimaced, and for the first time since her arrival, she began to second guess herself. She really had no idea what to expect; she'd never been here before….all she had were several years of bedtime stories and old gossip to back her shaky nerves.
And she'd never seen him before, either.
What will he be like? She wondered, hands fidgeting with unease at her sides, will he even remember how to communicate with another person? Her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip. The last time, if she remembered correctly, he'd even interacted with those from the outside world, they'd tried to kill him….what if he'd never forgiven them for it? Would he take it out on her?
"No….no that's silly…." She muttered, pulling her arms close to her as she began her trek up the stairs, "….If I tell him who I am….he's sure to…." An uncomfortable knot twisted in her throat. Was it really the best idea to reveal her identity to him? Did he even possess any concept of time? Dammit! She swore inwardly, banging the railing with her fist, now is not the time for this! You made a promise, remember?
Yeah….yeah that's right. She did make a promise. To a dying woman whom she loved dearly and whom she owed that much to. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, buried her fear, and stepped into the ancient, half-damaged attic.
It was….everything she had envisioned a child. Faded, peeling shingles, dusty floorboards….everything. And the kicker—what really dazzled her eyes—were the monotonous translucent ice sculptures scattered about the room. Anxiety dissipating, Coraline's jaw went slack as she approached these icy wonders. "Grandma was right." She breathed, examining a particularly beautiful carving of a young girl, "these are beautiful."
Abruptly, her head shot up, past experiences having taught her to listen for even the subtlest of noises. Like shuffling around, for example. And the faint but distinct click clickof metal against metal. Straightening her position, she pulled her attention away from the ice sculptures, and began a visual search of the area. The grey sky cast several looming shadows in the corners of the room; so much so that Coraline almost missed him curled in the corner of the farthest wall. Indeed, as it was, she could only see the occasional glint of rusty metal when it caught the grey sunlight.
"Hello?" She called, cursing how hoarse she had sounded, "Anyone there?" It was foolish, she knew to ask when she could clearly—figuratively of course—see him. Yet her gut persisted she announce her intrusion, and make the first move, if she wanted to succeed in what she had come here to do.
The clicking ceased, replaced instead by the ruffling of tight fabric and scratching at the floor as the shadowed figure suddenly doubled in size. He'd stood up. At least she was getting somewhere.
"Don't be….Don't be afraid…." She said, gradually gaining more confidence as the words left her mouth, "I'm not here to hurt…."
He stepped into the light.
"….you…."
The words died in Coraline's mouth, her train of thought evaporating from her mind; amber eyes widened to their fullest extent as they studied the man before her. He was taller than her by at least a head, but his wild, un-kept hair heightened his appearance by at least four more inches. His face, the only visible skin not bound in faded leather, was almost white in color, save for the dark, bruise-colored circles around his deep, ebony eyes, and a smudge of the same color across his quivering lips. Several scars of various sizes decorated his facial features, some no more than a thin line while others contained a bumpy texture. A pang of pity struck her heart when she wondered of their origin, which in turn caused her gaze to trail downward at the man's sides. She bit back a gasp; stories or not, nothing had prepared her for how….bizarre the mechanical monstrosities in place of his hands actually were. Though now coated in a thin tawny layer of rust, she imagined in their prime, they must have been quite a spectacle. Long, slender blades jutting out where his fingers should have been….it was truly a magnificent sight.
And yet….inside, Coraline recoiled in slight revulsion. There was something….familiar about those sleek, metallic 'fingers'….something that, for a moment, curled in a knot of discomfort in the pit of her stomach. But she brushed it aside, scolding herself for such behavior. It wasn't his fault he was like this. Taking a deep breath to steady any remaining doubt, she mimicked his earlier actions and took a step forward. "Are you….are you Edward?" She asked. The strange man remained silent, but bobbed his head up and down.
"I'm….My name is Coraline."
Edward's lips, previously pursed in a thin line, opened a fraction, as if trying to remember how to use them properly. That familiar feeling of pity came over her. How long had it been since he'd had contact with another human being?
"Y…." Edward started, his large, round eyes fixated intently on her "….your h-hair…."
My hair? Her thoughts repeated, taken aback, what does he mean by—
"….It's blue."
For the second time that day, Coraline abandoned her train of thought, a small smile playing on her lips. "Oh…." She half-giggled, mentally slapping herself. Of course. How could she not have expected a comment like that? If her grandma's tales were true, the last time Edward had interacted with the outside world was long before the invention of hair dye.
"Y-yes, Edward…." She said after a moment, trying to prevent herself from laughing at that quizzical expression adorning his face, "….my hair is blue. But," she added, noticing the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, "This isn't my natural color. It's just dyed."
"….dyed?" He echoed, as if the term were a foreign language.
She nodded, regaining confidence and approaching him further. "A lot's changed since you returned to this place."
If it were physically possible for this already large-eyed man to widen his eyes even further, Edward did so. "How…." He gasped, retreating a step, "….how did you know I—"
"My grandmother told me." She interrupted, swearing to herself at the sudden turn their conversation had taken. "She….she remembers you from when she was my age."
Edward froze mid-step. She'd peaked his curiosity yet again. "Your….your grand….mother?"
"That's right," she replied, relieved when he dropped his raised foot in front of him, rather than behind. "My grandma used to know you."
A small flicker of hope shone behind Edward's dark orbs, and Coraline wondered, vaguely, if he was thinking of her. If he was, there was no time like the present to complete her mission.
"Edward." She stated, spooking him—if ever so slightly—into an upright, soldier-like, position, "The reason I came here, is because someone I love very much isn't doing so well right now…." Her words grew heavy, but she forced herself to continue, "….and….she asked to see you one more time before she….she died." If there was anything in the world that could express how she felt at this moment, Edward displayed it on his face. His eyebrow-less forehead had knotted far into his messy hairline; his mouth shaped like a very small 'O.' The clicking of his scissor-hands had resumed, but at much faster a pace. However, what really hit home was that haunting expression burning in his charcoal pupils. She'd only known him for a few minutes, and already Coraline could tell his eyes truly were the window to his soul. In fact….the more she stared at him, the more she wondered if he might cry. She'd never seen a man cry before….but his eyes were filled with such disbelief and sorrow it was damn near breaking her heart.
And made her realize that somehow, this pitiful creature known as Edward knew just who she was talking about, which was the saddest fact of all. Almost made her wish she'd spared him the visit, if only to save him from his memory.
Who am I kidding? Her thoughts protested, Grandma asked to see him! You can't back out now! Again she sighed, knowing her mind was right. She couldn't have backed out of this even if she wanted to. She loved her grandmother. And, despite the older woman's denial, Coraline knew her grandmother still loved this peculiar man trembling a few feet away.
"Guess there's only one thing to do," she said to herself, reaching towards a now grief-stricken Edward. "Edward….will you come with me to see my grandmother?"
He flinched at her touch, but didn't recoil. Instead, the man with the scissor hands looked from her face, to her tender grip on his arm, then back into her questioning eyes.
"Yes."