The Nightmare Before Christmas
For The Love Of Death
Chapter Two: Death's Accessories
Jack Skellington looked up as his daughter meandered through the Mayor's door, but his expression darkened upon seeing who it actually was. Demos faltered a moment, inwardly cursing his bad luck.
Lock didn't tell me Dad was here, too! he bemoaned silently as he did his best impersonation of Jezabel. Judging from the elder bone-demon's narrowed eyes and set jaw-line, Jack wasn't buying the act.
"Jezabel, my girl!" the Mayor called, clapping Demos heartily on the back and pulling him towards the desk, currently buried beneath a veritable mountain of documented legalities. "Glad you could make it! You'll soon become Duchess, lass, and it's high time you learned the finer tricks of the trade. Now, here we have…"
Demos, having long ago acquired the ability to tune out the official, stole a glance at Jack. His father gave him one last piercing look before shaking his head, a ghost of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. The Prince smiled in return and settled back to wait for the lecture to end—he'd heard it all before, anyway.
One thing he was glad for, though, was the Mayor had not recognized him. He and Jeza looked exactly alike, and for as long as he could remember, not one soul had ever been able to tell them apart—if the twins didn't want them to. To say the least, this proved exceedingly useful.
This time, however, Demos had made a mistake in not changing his wardrobe, and the both of them were sure to get the talking to of the century if the glint in Jack's eye sockets had anything to say about it. If only they'd worn the same outfit that morning…
"Hey…are you even listening?"
"Wha…?" Demos started, looking up to find Jack and the Mayor eyeing him disapprovingly, and grinned weakly in embarrassment. "Er…sorry. What did you say?"
"I said, dear girl," the Mayor huffed. "That a notice arrived this morning, announcing that Thanatos has been replaced, and that new executive has taken the Office of Death."
"There's a new Grim Reaper?" Demos said, interested. "That is news. Do you think he might come here?"
"Let's hope not," Jack replied. "The last one that wandered into our town almost killed the lot of us."
"Why?"
"Something about 'exorcizing the demons'," Jack said. "But that was a long time ago; I don't think we need to worry about it happening again."
"Why should he come, anyway?" the Mayor scoffed. "We're all undead here, or immortal, so why should it matter?"
"It matters more than you know," the Pumpkin King murmured quietly, but his answer went unheard.
.xXx.
Kelly knew the old cemetery was half-way across town, but Mortis had arrived there hardly one thousandth of a second after he'd spoken. Suddenly, the world outside the windows had blurred and settled, and they were there.
"Whoa," said Kelly eloquently. The engine rumbled with pleasure, and the door opened for him as he stepped out. Suddenly, Mortis was a horse again, Kelly's body draped across his back, ad he followed as Kelly hurriedly led him inside the gates.
"You don't need to worry," Mortis assured him as the new Reaper glanced about anxiously. "I will stand guard."
At that, Kelly calmed a bit, and set about for a suitable place to bury himself. He found it in a small copse of trees, removed somewhat from the sea of headstones, and looked about for something to dig with.
"Hey Mortis," he said after a moment. "Do I have a scythe?"
"Yes…" the horse replied before his ears flicked back, and he stamped. "You can't possibly mean…"
"Well, can you think of anything else to use?"
"The Death Scythe was not meant to dig graves!" Mortis barked, appalled. But Kelly held his ground (albeit nervously), until finally the creature assented, and a monstrous scythe appeared draped across his withers.
"Thank you," Kelly said, and Mortis snorted crossly.
"I can't believe you're using such a holy device for something like this…"
But Kelly ignored him, and drove the blade into the ground, noting with some satisfaction that he could weald the huge weapon with ease. However, it was still quite a while before he'd dug a sufficient grave, and by then he was streaked with dirt and who knew what else.
"Okay, lower the body down please," he called, and Mortis obeyed, gripping the corpse by the scruff and easing him into the grave, which Kelly quickly vacated. Hurriedly, he filled the dirt back in and dusted his hands, breathing a sigh of relief.
"There, that wasn't so bad."
"What was the point, may I ask?"
"Well, I don't want to be presumed dead," Kelly pointed out. "Mom would be devastated, that's for sure."
Mortis flicked his ears back, shifting his weight from one foot to the other uneasily. "…You cannot go back to your old life," he murmured.
"Why not?" the boy asked and cocked his head.
"Never mind," Mortis answered quietly. You will find out soon enough. "Come, there are souls that need harvesting."
"Alright."
Mortis became the limousine again, wincing slightly as Kelly got dirt on the seat when he climbed in. "Now, there are several items you need to know about in order to successfully fulfill your duties as Death," he began. "The first is a set of clothes in the back seat: proper attire for a Grim Reaper. I suggest you change into them, Master."
"Yes sir," said Kelly meekly, and climbed into the backseat. There he found an outfit quite unlike anything he'd imagined. Knee-length, soft leather black boots stood upon the seat, smart black buttons marching up their sides. Across their toes lay a silk tunic, a sharp little vest, leather gloves, and slightly ballooning pants. Of course, all were of the deepest black, with silver crossbones for buttons and concealed pockets. On the other seat lay a magnificence hooded black cape of velvet, clasped with a bone-white skull.
Kelly picked up the garment and swirled it, admiring how it billowed before setting it down again. "Um…there wouldn't happen to be anything more…colorful, would there?" he asked.
"Colorful?" Mortis repeated incredulously. "You are Death! Death does not do colorful."
"Oh…sorry," Kelly murmured.
"Death does not apologize, either," Mortis continued, though his tone had softened somewhat. "Remember, you have come into a very prestigious Office, one that requires solemn dignity and grace. You must never prostrate yourself to anyone."
"Yes sir."
"Please…do not call me that," the radio sighed.
"Why not? How come you can call me Master, but I can't call you sir?"
"Because a person of your stature does not defer himself to his subordinates; I am but a servant, and you are my Master. That's all there is to it."
"Wouldn't it be better if we just worked together as equals?"
Mortis paused for a moment, stunned, unable to think of anything to say. "The second thing you need to acquaint yourself with is the Scythe," he said finally, choosing to ignore the question. "There is a compass set on the head that will point out the people in need of your care. Also note the handle is collapsible for convenient transport."
Kelly fingered the giant weapon—the thing was taller as he was—and looked at the golden compass, admiring the fine craftsmanship and detailed handiwork. He noticed the little needle did not point north, but to the southwest. The moment he saw this, he felt the Scythe begin to gently push against his hands, tugging at something in his mind. Kelly opened the car door and stepped outside, instinctively turning in the direction the Scythe wanted to go.
"I think it's found something," he said, walking a little ways before stopping in his tracks. The needle had suddenly switched directions, and was now pointing the other way. He looked around, but there was nothing but gravestones. "Mortis…you said this thing's supposed to point out people, right?"
"That's correct."
"Well, I think it's broken," Kelly said, walking back and forth a bit to be sure. But the needle never wavered, continuing to point unerringly towards an intimidating stone tomb rearing darkly against the night. The Scythe pulled harder, and Kelly was nearly thrown off balance from the thing's straining. "Maybe there's someone in there?"
"That is possible," Mortis replied, unconcerned. "The Death Scythe's never wrong. If it says to go there, it is best to listen."
"Do I really have to go in there?"
"Don the cape, Master, and nothing will hurt you as long as you keep your hood up," Mortis cautioned him. "Uncovered, you can easily be killed."
Kelly remembered his own encounter with Death, and shuddered. Suddenly uneasy, he hurried to retrieve the cloak and swirled it about his shoulders, clasping it beneath his chin. It had a weight to it, and all but enveloped his small frame within its folds, swishing just past his shins.
Pulling the hood up, Kelly found his eyesight was enhanced tenfold, and suddenly all the shadows and hidden places melted away. Gripping the Scythe, he approached the crypt, swallowed hard, and pulled open the doors.
To be continued…
Disclaimer: I do not own the NBC or Incarnations of Immortality characters, but for my own creations: Kelly, Nikodemos, Jezabel, and a few other OCs that haven't shown up yet. But if I did I would still write fanfiction about them.
Welcome to Chapter Two of my first Nightmare fanfic! Hooray! I hoped you enjoyed it, 'cause I had fun writing it. At first, this was actually a part of the first chapter, but since that would make it twelve pages long I decided to cut it short and make all the stuff that happens here into chapter two. Sorry if it's a little short, but going into Halloween Town deserves its own chapter. Also, the first several chapters are going to be rather dramatic, so Kell won't do much prancing in them. he will later, though, don't worry.
Until next time,
Calfuray