A Jack and Sally Drama - No more thread

A fast flash of black and white rushed through the forest, with the absence of heavy breathing. The flash dodged trees and branches with ease; it jumped over every obstacle, as if every moment was increasingly vital. Only few branches managed to attack the flash, creating the only present sound in the lonesome forest. The blur burst out of the forest into a clearing and continued to rush through a quiet graveyard and over a bridge. The moon grinned with vile pleasure, the wind carrying its monsterous laugh. As the flash of black and white passed through an ancient gate, it began to slow. In the distance a crowd stood still, like a forgotten painting in the darkest corner of an attic. There wasn't enough life in this crowd to even create tension nor fear. For once, the air was empty and blank in Halloween Town.

The black and white stripes of Jack's suit had been damaged beyond easy repair on his race against time. There was only one soul in this dead town who could fix it...but Jack feared she was no longer present. He streamed through the crowd, like current in a circuit. He gave the crowd energy and the once numb atmosphere began to feel again, lighting up the familiar faces Jack could see. Their eyes glimmered with hope. At the front of the crowd, the mayor stood still. His face was upset, but something was different. Wrong. Jack almost felt like he didn't recognise this face, but he knew the mayor only owned two. What he didn't realise was the face could not cry, but it would if nature had given him the chance. However the tears still fell from the other citizens, along side heavy sobs of all pitches and depths. The mayor stepped aside, revealing the skeletons nightmare.

Pieces of thread and cloth lay sprawled across the ground, wedged between the uneven flooring. He examined closer, unable to move his cemented feet. Jack could see the delicate, small hands that he had held so many times battered and detached from anything else. The emptiness inside of him screeched in agony, wishing him to wake from this torturous dream. The punkin king had never felt so petrified in all of his long existence. Suddenly, the one of the small hands twitched, weakly pointing in a certain direction. Jack gently ran his skeletal finger over the cotton hand, and it eased to the ground. He paused in absolute unconciousness from the universe before slowly standing up and walking in the direction the hand had pointed him to. The crowd stayed back, fearing the worst for their punkin king.

A single strand of brown hair had caught on a leaning branch. It flowed in the wind gently, threatening to let go at any moment. Jack reached for the strand of hair in contained panic, grasping it tightly. He brought it up to his skull to look at it more clearly, to convince himself otherwise. But he recognised it painfully quickly. He tucked the strand into the inner pocket of his suit, and continued to walk eagerly yet embedded with dread.

Jack walked into the town hall, the large doors shutting out the rest of the world. The only light given was the gentle glow from the candles that hung upon the wall. Then, lying in the middle of the stage, was the climax to Jack's nightmare. There lay a unanimated head on the stage, the only part it seemed to have not been dissected. Jack ran upon the stage, falling to his knees for what felt like the first time. He gently picked up the head, searching for some trace of life. Jack didn't know how long he had sat there trying, desperately searching...finding nothing.