Chapter 7
I Am The Pumpkin King
Oogie Boogie glared scornfully at the lanky figure draped over the center of his giant roulette wheel. He circled the young boy like a wolf, now and then leaning forward for a closer look, or half acting on thoughts of beating on his prone, unconcious form. Little fool. Had he honestly thought Oogie hadn't put any planning into this scheme? The bogey man snorted in disdain. He'd known if the human were to run, the monster had little chance of catching up to him, so he'd laid traps in the form of his loyal little insects throughout the area near Jack's dwelling. Granted, he'd crammed every last one of them back into the great void of his mouth, but that was besides the point. Now he was looking over the prize he had dragged back to his lair and pondering what he would do to it.
So many options lay before the monstrosity. Oogie let his hollow gaze play across the neon-stained impliments of torture that hung along his walls and smiled crookedly. Ah, so many methods, so little time. He looked back to Jack. Oogie Boogie had stripped away the heavy winter coverings, so the youth was dressed in his pinstripe suit. The young man's long limbs dangled limply around him, making him look a bit like a great spider with it's leg's splayed out. His dark hair was matted and wet from the melted snow. It now hung in clumps or was plastered against his pale skin, framing a face almost child-like in it's innocence. Every now and then his expression would contort or his eyes would roll rapidly beneath their lids as the fever dreams induced by the insect's bite burned in his mind.
The ghoul found it hard to believe that this little stripling would soon rule over Halloween as the master of the pumpkin patch and king of terror. Boogie actually felt a twinge of jealousy in his black heart over the matter. Why did Halloween require a pathetic mortal for a sacrifice? Oogie Boogie could easily take up the reigns of Pumpkin King himself. If the burlap-covered fright were crowned, the world would know what real terror was. Instead of confining the horror of Halloween to one night, he would stretch it throughout the entire year! Mortal screams would echo around the globe and no human would ever feel safe from the terror of Oogie Boogie's reign. That was the proper way to fuel Halloween's starving spirit. Not letting the blood of this skinny little twit.
That still, of course, didn't take away the sadistic pleasure of doing away with the boy as painfully and horribly as possible.
If they knew, the council would never let Halloweentown's social pariah go through with his plan of breaking Jack and killing him mercilessly, but as long as they got their Pumpkin King, it didn't matter.
Leering at the unconcious form of the soon-to-be Pumpkin King, the boy's abductor began to ponder his options.
The first thing that Jack was aware of as conciousness leaked back into his mind was the scent of something like sulphur and smoldering coals burning his nostrils and stinging his partially opened eyes. He moaned softly and lifted his half-numb hand to his wet forehead, trying to brush the clumps of soaked hair out of his face. Where was he? His vision was still blurry and unfocused, but he seemed to be turning in a circle ever so slowly and he could feel himself being supported from about his shoulders to the middle of his thighs. The rest of him appeared to be dangling around the support and it made his back and neck ache horribly. Then again, there was very little of him that didn't ache horribly.
With a bit of effort, he managed to sit up and found that he had been stretched across what looked to be a small, round table made of wood. His eyes were still adjusting to the strange lighting in the room, but it seemed that the table along with the floor was spinning slowly. All around him were unnatural flashes of light and color. Jack had never encountered such colors before. They were extremely bright and positively screaming into his eyes. Their garishness seemed to worsen the headache clawing at his brain, though closing his eyes didn't seem to help the pain either. Then, like a steel ball rolling through his mind came the laughter again. Jack froze and his eyes tracked around the room to try and identify the laughter's source. It took a bit for his vision to adjust, but eventually his gaze fell on IT.
The creature loomed to the left of him, smirking smugly with tiny antennae and insect legs twitching and scrabbling at the edges of it's mouth. Jack's first reaction was fear. It gripped his heart and made it race, beads of sweat beginning to gather along his brow. But the fear came mingled with anger. It burned away the terror he felt, and seemed to give him strength and resolve. Eyes narrowing at the burlap horror before him, Jack found himself just as surprised as Oogie was when the first words from his mouth came as, "How dare you."
"What was that?" the bogey man inquired, his smirk turning into a sneer.
Jack felt another surge of anger well inside of him. He found his voice again and this time there was more power in it. "How DARE you," he repeated, getting to his feet, though a bit uneasily. "How dare you abduct me from my home and bring me here!" More sure of himself, the youth took a step toward Boogie. "You had no right."
Oogie looked stunned for a moment, but slowly the look turned to one of amusement and he cackled roughly, pitching to and fro in the throes of his jubilance. "Well, well, well! Lookee here! Mr. 98-pound-stick-figure seems to have grown a spine! Ain't that just dandy?" His words dissolved back into his laughter. "You know, you're going to be a lot of fun to break," smirked the ghoul, lumbering toward his prey.
Jack stood his ground, glowering up at Oogie Boogie through piercing, dark eyes.
The monster leaned forward, his burlap mouth grinning widely. "I'm gonna make you scream. Make you BEG me to do you in!"
"No."
Oogie eyed his victim.
"You won't," Jack said simply, not breaking his gaze.
"Oohhhh! Is that a CHALLENGE, little man?" boomed the spook.
"Just the truth."
Jack had no idea such nerve could be born in the boiling cauldron of rage and hatred that churned somewhere in the deep recesses of his soul. The heat of it pressed against the insides of his skin and rushed through his veins like fire despite the fact his heart fluttered in fear and something in the back of his mind was screaming for him to run. He was terrified, yes. But something wouldn't allow this thing to bully him anymore.
The boy's abductor was laughing now, his cloth-covered frame almost threatening to burst at the stitches. Now THIS was rich! Boogie had never come across a victim that had actually stood up to him before. Most simply cowered in terror and screamed for mercy or sobbed uncontrollably. But not Mr. Pumpkin King! No! HE actually had the nerve to-
Oogie's thoughts were interrupted abruptly as he felt a sting of pain snap across his stomach. The monster's laughter became a loud choke as he staggered backward, insects spilling from his mouth. Almost losing his balance, the ghoul turned narrow, empty eyes toward his abducted prey.
Jack stood, glaring defiantly at Oogie Boogie, his belt stretched between his hands.
Unbelievable.
The amusment etched across the bogey man's horrible face was quickly scratched away, and any thoughts bordering on mercy for his victim were burned out of his mind.
"You little BRAT!" snarled the fiend, his arm lashing out and striking Jack squarely in the chest.
The next moment seemed, for both of them, to stretch itself across an eon.
Though defiant and ready to defend himself, Jack was still a bit disorientated from his feverish dreams. This was only amplified by the thick, noxious fumes that rose from the sunken, boiling cauldron behind the youth and permeated the room. It didn't help, either, that Oogie Boogie had misjudged his strength in that moment of anger.
A strangled yelp escaped Jack and he staggered backward, dropping his belt. His head spun like a whirligig and his body lurched to keep up with the movement. The boy was vaguely aware of a boiling flash of gold before his body was enveloped in searing pain.
If he could have screamed, he would have. As it was, he wasn't sure he even had any throat left to scream with. White hot pain flooded through every part of the young man, a sort he had no inkling existed before now. Impossible, heart bursting agony boiling the very blood in his veins and exploding across his mind in incredible colors. He couldn't see. Couldn't breathe. If Jack was moving, he could no longer feel it. For the boy, existance was excruciating pain.
The world began to darken and the pain began to become distant. Numb. His body had divorced his mind and left him as little more than a drifting conciousness. One would think some mercy would grace him and just end it, but at the same time, he was terrified of the maw of oblivion that surely gaped before him.
This was his end.
He'd always imagined it so differently. Laying in bed, as an old man, many years from now. He would have lived a life of high education and close family. Probably with grandchildren. He'd always imagined it so peaceful.
What will happen at home? Life will go on. Without him. Amelia will grow up and leave home. Mother and Father will grow older. The world will continue to turn, but he'll never set a foot on it again. The world has already shrugged him away with a cold indifference, turning to attend to the business of the living. A void began to stretch between Jack and the life he knew, and it created a sickening pit of horror in what was left of him.
Light.
Orange light, at that.
Just a pinpoint at first, but it grew. Soon, where once was heat and darkness, there was an expanse of warm, orange light and the soft scent of something that was almost like pumpkin pie and cold, autumn- smelling wind.
"Hello?"
To Jack's surprise, he was actually answered.
The voice was rich and warm and seemed to come from all around him. "Jack Skellington."
"Would you mind telling me what's going on exactly? Am I dead? Is this Heaven or Hell? Am I dreaming again?"
"None. You're a very special individual, Jack."
"If I'm not any of those, could I please go back home?" the youth inquired.
"I'm afraid not. You've been chosen."
"Chosen? To do what?"
"To save the unlives of hundreds. To support a spirit who has existed since time out of mind with your blood. To rule as king."
"If it's quite all right, I'd advise you to find someone else. I don't want to be king of anything. Just let me go home."
"It's too late for that, Jack. You and I are already tied. In a way, we always have been. Our bonds are those of destiny. Now, prepare yourself to meet the fate that awaits you."
Nothing could have possibly prepared him for the onslaught that came next. There was no pain, or even mild discomfort. No physical injury at all. Instead, the attack was spreading itself silently and relentlessly across his mind. And there wasn't a thing that Oogie could do that put the fear of God into Jack more than the very obliteration of his being.
It wasn't apparent at first. For quite some time, Jack didn't notice it, his mind too busy darting to and fro, flitting from thoughts of escape, to death and to his family. By the time he noticed the fog clouding his head, it was far too late.
Memories of a man with a sturdy build and a beard...twinking blue eyes...so kind. A woman with soft, caring hands. Quite delicate and with a warm smile. There was a tree. An evergreen standing in a parlor. Why on Earth was a tree growing inside of a house? Most importantly, there was a girl there. Young. Perhaps six or seven. Dark curls, soft, blue eyes that twinkled like starlight.
Why these images?
What was he doing before this, anyway?
"You are Jack Skellington."
Yes, that's right.
"And you are the Pumpkin King."
Somewhere in the back of his mind, what was left of the human he had been screamed out in protest.
A flash of broken red glass. A painted smile. A fir tree standing in the center of a parlor. A little girl smiling up at him and holding out a paper snowflake. Amelia.
Amelia.
The name echoed down the halls of Jack's brain before he blinked a hollow eye and tucked it away into his subconcious.
* * *
Oogie Boogie felt dread ripple up through his squirming insides. He hadn't meant to throw the fool into the cauldron! There probably wasn't even anything left of the little twerp! The boy's bones hadn't even come to the top yet!
Boogie sighed and leaned against a tilting table that perched on the edge of the boiling pool of thick, golden liquid. Now he had to go out and find a whole new victim. What a pain! A smirk tugged slightly at his burlap mouth. Oh well. At least he'd make a nice stew.
The bogey man was just turning to fetch some utensils and serve himself up some of the cauldron's contents when he noticed a slight bulge begining to rise above the bubbling surface. Maybe the brat's bones were floating to the top after all.
If Oogie had only known just how accurate that statement was.
One could almost aliken it to a phoenix rising from it's ashes, the birth of the Pumpkin King. Oogie watched in a mix of shock and awe as Jack Skellington re-emerged from the cauldron. Looking at him now, glowing yellow goo slipping down his thin, impossibly tall form, the fiend would have never guessed he was the youth from before.
He bore no resemblence to the boy the monster had knocked in. It seemed that some physical features about the boy still remained, but had been exaggerated almost grotesquely. This thing was tall, like the boy had been, but his proportions were stretched to impossible lengths. Thin, spidery arms that seemed too long for him were folded across his blanched chest, ending in spindly-fingered, bony hands. He wore a pinstripe suit, but this one had been strangely twisted; it's pinstripes uneven and it's bowtie changed into a bat that stretched crooked wings across the former human's shoulders. The young man's dark eyes had turned into the sockets of a skeleton, their hollows seeming to be a pair of windows into a horrible, black void. Most unnerving of all, though, was his smile. Where the human's grin had been silly and a bit charming, this one was downright frightening; stretching almost around this skeleton's skull with macabre glee. Oogie Boogie found himself unable to move as that horrible grin spoke to him.
"I am Jack Skellington."
The burlap monster could only stare.
"I am The Pumpkin King."
I Am The Pumpkin King
Oogie Boogie glared scornfully at the lanky figure draped over the center of his giant roulette wheel. He circled the young boy like a wolf, now and then leaning forward for a closer look, or half acting on thoughts of beating on his prone, unconcious form. Little fool. Had he honestly thought Oogie hadn't put any planning into this scheme? The bogey man snorted in disdain. He'd known if the human were to run, the monster had little chance of catching up to him, so he'd laid traps in the form of his loyal little insects throughout the area near Jack's dwelling. Granted, he'd crammed every last one of them back into the great void of his mouth, but that was besides the point. Now he was looking over the prize he had dragged back to his lair and pondering what he would do to it.
So many options lay before the monstrosity. Oogie let his hollow gaze play across the neon-stained impliments of torture that hung along his walls and smiled crookedly. Ah, so many methods, so little time. He looked back to Jack. Oogie Boogie had stripped away the heavy winter coverings, so the youth was dressed in his pinstripe suit. The young man's long limbs dangled limply around him, making him look a bit like a great spider with it's leg's splayed out. His dark hair was matted and wet from the melted snow. It now hung in clumps or was plastered against his pale skin, framing a face almost child-like in it's innocence. Every now and then his expression would contort or his eyes would roll rapidly beneath their lids as the fever dreams induced by the insect's bite burned in his mind.
The ghoul found it hard to believe that this little stripling would soon rule over Halloween as the master of the pumpkin patch and king of terror. Boogie actually felt a twinge of jealousy in his black heart over the matter. Why did Halloween require a pathetic mortal for a sacrifice? Oogie Boogie could easily take up the reigns of Pumpkin King himself. If the burlap-covered fright were crowned, the world would know what real terror was. Instead of confining the horror of Halloween to one night, he would stretch it throughout the entire year! Mortal screams would echo around the globe and no human would ever feel safe from the terror of Oogie Boogie's reign. That was the proper way to fuel Halloween's starving spirit. Not letting the blood of this skinny little twit.
That still, of course, didn't take away the sadistic pleasure of doing away with the boy as painfully and horribly as possible.
If they knew, the council would never let Halloweentown's social pariah go through with his plan of breaking Jack and killing him mercilessly, but as long as they got their Pumpkin King, it didn't matter.
Leering at the unconcious form of the soon-to-be Pumpkin King, the boy's abductor began to ponder his options.
The first thing that Jack was aware of as conciousness leaked back into his mind was the scent of something like sulphur and smoldering coals burning his nostrils and stinging his partially opened eyes. He moaned softly and lifted his half-numb hand to his wet forehead, trying to brush the clumps of soaked hair out of his face. Where was he? His vision was still blurry and unfocused, but he seemed to be turning in a circle ever so slowly and he could feel himself being supported from about his shoulders to the middle of his thighs. The rest of him appeared to be dangling around the support and it made his back and neck ache horribly. Then again, there was very little of him that didn't ache horribly.
With a bit of effort, he managed to sit up and found that he had been stretched across what looked to be a small, round table made of wood. His eyes were still adjusting to the strange lighting in the room, but it seemed that the table along with the floor was spinning slowly. All around him were unnatural flashes of light and color. Jack had never encountered such colors before. They were extremely bright and positively screaming into his eyes. Their garishness seemed to worsen the headache clawing at his brain, though closing his eyes didn't seem to help the pain either. Then, like a steel ball rolling through his mind came the laughter again. Jack froze and his eyes tracked around the room to try and identify the laughter's source. It took a bit for his vision to adjust, but eventually his gaze fell on IT.
The creature loomed to the left of him, smirking smugly with tiny antennae and insect legs twitching and scrabbling at the edges of it's mouth. Jack's first reaction was fear. It gripped his heart and made it race, beads of sweat beginning to gather along his brow. But the fear came mingled with anger. It burned away the terror he felt, and seemed to give him strength and resolve. Eyes narrowing at the burlap horror before him, Jack found himself just as surprised as Oogie was when the first words from his mouth came as, "How dare you."
"What was that?" the bogey man inquired, his smirk turning into a sneer.
Jack felt another surge of anger well inside of him. He found his voice again and this time there was more power in it. "How DARE you," he repeated, getting to his feet, though a bit uneasily. "How dare you abduct me from my home and bring me here!" More sure of himself, the youth took a step toward Boogie. "You had no right."
Oogie looked stunned for a moment, but slowly the look turned to one of amusement and he cackled roughly, pitching to and fro in the throes of his jubilance. "Well, well, well! Lookee here! Mr. 98-pound-stick-figure seems to have grown a spine! Ain't that just dandy?" His words dissolved back into his laughter. "You know, you're going to be a lot of fun to break," smirked the ghoul, lumbering toward his prey.
Jack stood his ground, glowering up at Oogie Boogie through piercing, dark eyes.
The monster leaned forward, his burlap mouth grinning widely. "I'm gonna make you scream. Make you BEG me to do you in!"
"No."
Oogie eyed his victim.
"You won't," Jack said simply, not breaking his gaze.
"Oohhhh! Is that a CHALLENGE, little man?" boomed the spook.
"Just the truth."
Jack had no idea such nerve could be born in the boiling cauldron of rage and hatred that churned somewhere in the deep recesses of his soul. The heat of it pressed against the insides of his skin and rushed through his veins like fire despite the fact his heart fluttered in fear and something in the back of his mind was screaming for him to run. He was terrified, yes. But something wouldn't allow this thing to bully him anymore.
The boy's abductor was laughing now, his cloth-covered frame almost threatening to burst at the stitches. Now THIS was rich! Boogie had never come across a victim that had actually stood up to him before. Most simply cowered in terror and screamed for mercy or sobbed uncontrollably. But not Mr. Pumpkin King! No! HE actually had the nerve to-
Oogie's thoughts were interrupted abruptly as he felt a sting of pain snap across his stomach. The monster's laughter became a loud choke as he staggered backward, insects spilling from his mouth. Almost losing his balance, the ghoul turned narrow, empty eyes toward his abducted prey.
Jack stood, glaring defiantly at Oogie Boogie, his belt stretched between his hands.
Unbelievable.
The amusment etched across the bogey man's horrible face was quickly scratched away, and any thoughts bordering on mercy for his victim were burned out of his mind.
"You little BRAT!" snarled the fiend, his arm lashing out and striking Jack squarely in the chest.
The next moment seemed, for both of them, to stretch itself across an eon.
Though defiant and ready to defend himself, Jack was still a bit disorientated from his feverish dreams. This was only amplified by the thick, noxious fumes that rose from the sunken, boiling cauldron behind the youth and permeated the room. It didn't help, either, that Oogie Boogie had misjudged his strength in that moment of anger.
A strangled yelp escaped Jack and he staggered backward, dropping his belt. His head spun like a whirligig and his body lurched to keep up with the movement. The boy was vaguely aware of a boiling flash of gold before his body was enveloped in searing pain.
If he could have screamed, he would have. As it was, he wasn't sure he even had any throat left to scream with. White hot pain flooded through every part of the young man, a sort he had no inkling existed before now. Impossible, heart bursting agony boiling the very blood in his veins and exploding across his mind in incredible colors. He couldn't see. Couldn't breathe. If Jack was moving, he could no longer feel it. For the boy, existance was excruciating pain.
The world began to darken and the pain began to become distant. Numb. His body had divorced his mind and left him as little more than a drifting conciousness. One would think some mercy would grace him and just end it, but at the same time, he was terrified of the maw of oblivion that surely gaped before him.
This was his end.
He'd always imagined it so differently. Laying in bed, as an old man, many years from now. He would have lived a life of high education and close family. Probably with grandchildren. He'd always imagined it so peaceful.
What will happen at home? Life will go on. Without him. Amelia will grow up and leave home. Mother and Father will grow older. The world will continue to turn, but he'll never set a foot on it again. The world has already shrugged him away with a cold indifference, turning to attend to the business of the living. A void began to stretch between Jack and the life he knew, and it created a sickening pit of horror in what was left of him.
Light.
Orange light, at that.
Just a pinpoint at first, but it grew. Soon, where once was heat and darkness, there was an expanse of warm, orange light and the soft scent of something that was almost like pumpkin pie and cold, autumn- smelling wind.
"Hello?"
To Jack's surprise, he was actually answered.
The voice was rich and warm and seemed to come from all around him. "Jack Skellington."
"Would you mind telling me what's going on exactly? Am I dead? Is this Heaven or Hell? Am I dreaming again?"
"None. You're a very special individual, Jack."
"If I'm not any of those, could I please go back home?" the youth inquired.
"I'm afraid not. You've been chosen."
"Chosen? To do what?"
"To save the unlives of hundreds. To support a spirit who has existed since time out of mind with your blood. To rule as king."
"If it's quite all right, I'd advise you to find someone else. I don't want to be king of anything. Just let me go home."
"It's too late for that, Jack. You and I are already tied. In a way, we always have been. Our bonds are those of destiny. Now, prepare yourself to meet the fate that awaits you."
Nothing could have possibly prepared him for the onslaught that came next. There was no pain, or even mild discomfort. No physical injury at all. Instead, the attack was spreading itself silently and relentlessly across his mind. And there wasn't a thing that Oogie could do that put the fear of God into Jack more than the very obliteration of his being.
It wasn't apparent at first. For quite some time, Jack didn't notice it, his mind too busy darting to and fro, flitting from thoughts of escape, to death and to his family. By the time he noticed the fog clouding his head, it was far too late.
Memories of a man with a sturdy build and a beard...twinking blue eyes...so kind. A woman with soft, caring hands. Quite delicate and with a warm smile. There was a tree. An evergreen standing in a parlor. Why on Earth was a tree growing inside of a house? Most importantly, there was a girl there. Young. Perhaps six or seven. Dark curls, soft, blue eyes that twinkled like starlight.
Why these images?
What was he doing before this, anyway?
"You are Jack Skellington."
Yes, that's right.
"And you are the Pumpkin King."
Somewhere in the back of his mind, what was left of the human he had been screamed out in protest.
A flash of broken red glass. A painted smile. A fir tree standing in the center of a parlor. A little girl smiling up at him and holding out a paper snowflake. Amelia.
Amelia.
The name echoed down the halls of Jack's brain before he blinked a hollow eye and tucked it away into his subconcious.
* * *
Oogie Boogie felt dread ripple up through his squirming insides. He hadn't meant to throw the fool into the cauldron! There probably wasn't even anything left of the little twerp! The boy's bones hadn't even come to the top yet!
Boogie sighed and leaned against a tilting table that perched on the edge of the boiling pool of thick, golden liquid. Now he had to go out and find a whole new victim. What a pain! A smirk tugged slightly at his burlap mouth. Oh well. At least he'd make a nice stew.
The bogey man was just turning to fetch some utensils and serve himself up some of the cauldron's contents when he noticed a slight bulge begining to rise above the bubbling surface. Maybe the brat's bones were floating to the top after all.
If Oogie had only known just how accurate that statement was.
One could almost aliken it to a phoenix rising from it's ashes, the birth of the Pumpkin King. Oogie watched in a mix of shock and awe as Jack Skellington re-emerged from the cauldron. Looking at him now, glowing yellow goo slipping down his thin, impossibly tall form, the fiend would have never guessed he was the youth from before.
He bore no resemblence to the boy the monster had knocked in. It seemed that some physical features about the boy still remained, but had been exaggerated almost grotesquely. This thing was tall, like the boy had been, but his proportions were stretched to impossible lengths. Thin, spidery arms that seemed too long for him were folded across his blanched chest, ending in spindly-fingered, bony hands. He wore a pinstripe suit, but this one had been strangely twisted; it's pinstripes uneven and it's bowtie changed into a bat that stretched crooked wings across the former human's shoulders. The young man's dark eyes had turned into the sockets of a skeleton, their hollows seeming to be a pair of windows into a horrible, black void. Most unnerving of all, though, was his smile. Where the human's grin had been silly and a bit charming, this one was downright frightening; stretching almost around this skeleton's skull with macabre glee. Oogie Boogie found himself unable to move as that horrible grin spoke to him.
"I am Jack Skellington."
The burlap monster could only stare.
"I am The Pumpkin King."