Okay...this is my first fan-fic ever. So, yeah. Deal with it. Review if you want, and I don't care if you flame or not. Though I'd rather you didn't. Thanks!
Chapter One:
She walked unnoticed among the bustle of holiday shoppers grouped along the sidewalk that led to the mall. Good cheer and tidings blasted from the loudspeakers implanted in the shops along the strip, adding to the spirit of the holiday. Glassy, crystal ornaments that were ridiculously expensive glittered in the shops' displays despite the dismal weather.
It wasn't even December yet. This didn't stop the dancing Santa Claus dolls from shaking their round bosoms in the shop windows, much to the delight of innocent five-year-olds and tacky forty-year-olds who were window shopping.
One girl wasn't amused. She pushed past the crowds who were too preoccupied by the pretty lights and shiny things to notice her. Blending in wasn't a problem, as she was quite bundled up in a downy white vest that was layered over a hunter green shirt.
Her blue jeans faded into the bottom half of the crowd. A thin, golden string hung from her neck, holding a locket that was hidden beneath the clothing. Flapping in the chilled breeze behind her was a cream-colored scarf, accentuated by the silver specks dashed in here and there. The tassels on the end flowed daintily in the wind.
Chestnut brown hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, stopping at the middle of her forearm. It was mostly hidden by a crocheted ski cap that was an ivory white. It fit snugly on her head. Tresses of hair fell into her face. She brushed them away absentmindedly, revealing forest green eyes that didn't seem to glitter as brightly as they should.
The girl suddenly broke away from the crowd. She looked over her shoulder, making sure no one's eyes were following her as she veered to the left. They weren't. No cries of "Where is she going?" or "Come back, Victoria!" were heard from the bustling group, and she was glad. She wanted to be alone.
A few streets and a frost-covered field later, Victoria found herself standing at the black and grey gates of the cemetery. It wasn't a place she usually visited. Her pale, frozen fingers pushed gently at the iron bars, which opened with a groaning sound as it turned on its rusty hinges. Dead grass crunched beneath her shoes. Victoria stepped past the gate of earl grey stones to enter the graveyard, closing the iron door behind her.
Victoria's freezing hands seemed to go rigid as an eerie gust of wind wrapped around her. The cemetery was on a small plot of land, but impressive statues and sculptures of crosses and angels lined the place to make it look much bigger than it was. Victoria sighed. Immediately, an icy cloud drifted out from between her lips, dissipating within seconds into the frosty air.
She wasn't exactly sure what had driven her to come here. None of her relatives had died recently (at least, none that she knew personally), and she normally shied away from morbid places like this. Victoria shrugged the feeling off. It was actually pretty peaceful here; no crowds, carols, or annoying toy jingles to bother her. In fact, she was the only one in the graveyard.
The girl trudged through the frosted grass, drawing closer to a large statue of an angel that stood directly in the center of the cemetery. Victoria raised an eyebrow, interested. The angel's wings spread almost six feet wide, and she could tell a lot of time was put into making it.
Marble white stone had been carved to take on a variety of new textures. The folds in the dress of the angel looked as soft as silk, and the feathers on the wings seemed like they should belong on a bird. Her face was tilted at an angle. Blank, lifeless eyes stared at Victoria with a strangely sympathetic expression, and Victoria stared back. Curly hair fell down to the angel's breasts. The angel's arms were opened wide as though they were inviting someone to come closer, to bask in the glory that was the sculpture because no one had in a very long time.
That's exactly what Victoria did. Slow, careful steps brought her ever closer to the angel, who stood tall and proud despite the setting that it was put into. Soon Victoria was so close that her breath fogged up the plaque that rested on the angel's waist. She raised an eyebrow and wiped the plaque off so that she could read it.
"Here lies Jack Skellington," Victoria muttered. That was all. There were no dates of birth or death, no epitaph, no intricate little carvings at the bottoms or sides. Victoria was about to turn and walk away, but something peculiar caught her eye. She leaned closer to the plaque, looking at the fine print at the bottom of the stone.
"Halloween Town directly below," Victoria whispered. She let out a hollow laugh. Who would put something like that on their own epitaph? Maybe a cruel prankster had engraved it with an Exacto knife a few years ago…but then again, the writing did look old. She ran a finger across the letters like a blind girl reading Braille, touching each crevasse and dip in the marble.
Then Victoria stepped backwards, ready to go back to her world of Christmas spirit. She slipped. Her foot had become caught on the strange handle that was carved into the tomb on which the angel stood, and she fell backwards to the cold, hard ground. Victoria's breath was harshly forced from her. Gasping for air, she wrenched her foot free from the handle of the tomb's door and made the door swing wide open.
Victoria held a hand to her stomach while she slowly caught her breath, now very ready to go. She slowly picked herself up from the ground and brushed off the dirt that had gotten on her when she fell. A little had gotten on her vest and jeans. When she was just about ready to go, she remembered that the crypt door had been opened. Reluctantly, Victoria walked slowly to the angel statue. The angel no longer seemed peaceful; it looked as though it was looming over her with a violent stare that only demons were capable of.
Victoria gave a small shudder. A rotten odor had begun to drift from the open grave to her nose, discouraging her from coming any closer. She held her breath and ran quickly to the door, gripping the handle tightly and lifting the stone slab upwards. It was heavier than she thought. Victoria exhaled deeply and breathed in despite the bad smell and tugged on the handle again. This time, she raised it a great deal more easily than the last time, and it came up to her waist when she pulled.
To lift it up all the way, Victoria skirted around the edge of the crypt until she was facing the opposite way. The door was closing. An awful creaking noise echoed in the graveyard as the slab turned on its ancient hinges, slowly resealing the tomb to the outside world. The marble now became pressed down on Victoria's fingers. Quickly, she pulled them out from under the slab, and it slammed down into place at once.
The cemetery was now silent. Victoria turned around and started to walk fast to the gate. Before she even touched the iron bars, however, a rumbling noise erupted from the grave that she had just visited. She pivoted around. To her horror, the tomb had opened again and a pair of giant, clawed hands was stretching out of the grave to snatch her up.
Screaming was the last thing on Victoria's mind. She just ran. The frightened girl got to the gate, tugging frantically on the ebony bars so she could escape. It was no use; they were locked. Victoria swiveled around, eyeing both the orange and black hands in fear. The orange hand reached her first and covered her mouth so she couldn't possibly scream for help, and then the black seized her waist and slowly began to drag her into the crypt.
Victoria's cries were muffled by the tangerine hand. She pulled desperately at both of the enormous hands, but her attempts at freedom were futile. All she could do was wait while the two things pulled her into the tomb that would lead her into Halloween Town.
Musically: So? How was it?
Victoria: ...I hate you. Like, really. A lot.
Musically: Aw, you're just sore 'cause I let two giant hands grab you and pull you into a grave.
Victoria: Please. Don't review, it only encourages her.
