This One's For You
Chapter II
Bonejangles had seemed to arrive in the middle of a long story. Emily was chattering away, looking happier than anyone in the underworld had ever seen her, even as she patted the cheeks of the insentient man below her in an attempt to wake him. From the fringe of the small crowd, Bonejangles strained to hear the end of whatever strange tale had brought a living man into the Land of the Dead.
"-And he seemed rather nervous through it all, though I imagine anyone would on their wedding day!" Emily giggled delightedly, then looked down at the pale figure. "Poor thing, the excitement must have gotten to him. Oh, I wish you had all been there! He said the most wonderful vows, and when he put the ring on my finger-," The dead girl held up her left hand and wiggled her skeletal fingers, showing off the gold ring. She looked up at the ceiling, dreamily. "-It was so beautiful."
Bonejangles suddenly felt as if his stomach had dropped out onto the floor. It was a strange and unexplained sensation, not only because it had been a number of years since he'd actually had a stomach, but also because he didn't know what had brought on such a reaction. All he knew was that seeing Emily in the arms of this man- or vice versa, as the case was- felt very, very wrong to him.
No one else seemed to feel the same, however, as they were all grinning at the living boy, giving the new bride congratulatory pats on the shoulder and babbling excitedly amongst themselves. The skeleton sneaked away from the crowd before Emily had a chance to spot him. The odd sick feeling in his chest didn't seem like it would be dissipating any time soon and he knew he wouldn't be able to pretend he was happy for her. Bonejangles didn't want to upset Emily- not now, when she was more cheerful than she had been since before she died. Instead, he skulked over to the pub's stage and leaned against the wall, attempting to look nonchalant as he watched the scene from the shadows.
He pulled his bowler hat down over his empty eye socket, thinking deeply. Why wasn't he happy for Emily? All she had talked about since she had arrived down here was finally finding her true love. It was her passion, her obsession, and sometimes he thought it was the only thing that kept her going. Now, it had finally happened, and instead of celebrating with her, he was eyeing the two contemptuously from across the room, feeling like someone had kicked him in the chest. There was no reason for him to feel this way. Emily was his closest friend and had been for years, ever since the day they had met- the day of her death.
She had been a mess when he'd first come across her; barely dead, and traumatized by what had just happened to her. It was late at night, long after most of the dead citizens of the town had chosen to retire to wherever it was they went when they felt they wanted to sleep. Bonejangles had all but given up sleep since his death- except for when he was drunk, of course- and had gained a tendency to wander around the town at night, running experimental tunes through his head.
He had heard strangled, furious sobbing and found Emily curled up in an alleyway with no idea how she had ended up there. She was quite the sight; hysterical and shaking, still covered with blood from the deadly wound in her temple, but beautiful nonetheless. The strangest thing about her was the wedding dress and veil that she wore. It was obvious she had been murdered, and brutally at that, but Bonejangles couldn't even begin to imagine the terrible circumstances behind her death. The skeleton had approached her slowly, wary of frightening her, but was surprised to find that she was not unnerved by his skinless form, or the news that she was, in fact, dead. On the contrary, she seemed to grow calmer in his presence. Thinking back on it, he guessed that after what she had been through, it must have been a bit of a relief to be dead, if only for those few moments. Regrettably, Emily's relaxed state only lasted as long as it took Bonejangles to ask her how she had died. Reminded of the horrible event, she had lost it again, unable to form words through her mourning cries.
Feeling somewhat guilty and unsure of what to do, the skeleton had decided to bring the newly dead girl to Ms. Plum. Although she had a tendency to be crass with Bonejangles and his band, the woman had a kind and gentle way with people- particularly other women- and Emily wouldn't be the first devastated new arrival to show up on the old cook's doorstep. He'd taken Emily by the hand, prepared to lead her back to the pub, but her legs shook so badly under her that he'd ended up half-carrying her there, his bony arm holding tight to her waist for support.
At the Ball and Socket, Ms. Plum was already up, setting up the bar in case of early-morning drinkers, when Bonejangles had came in with the distressed and bloody bride. He helped her onto the padded bench in the corner of the pub as the cook gasped and rushed around the bar to greet the girl. She had shoved Bonejangles aside and taken Emily's hand, patting it gently.
After calming her down once more, Ms. Plum had coaxed the corpse bride to tell them the story of how she had ended up in their town. "Start at the beginning," the old woman had said, "and don't leave anything out. It's the only way to deal."
And so, over the next few hours, interrupted only by her own aggrieved tears, Emily had told them her story. With Ms. Plum seated beside her, patting the young girl's arm and Bonejangles leaning up against the bench, lounging but listening intently, she had told them of how she had first met Barkis Bittern. She explained to them that she was in love, or had been in love. She told them of all the things he had said to her that had made her feel so giddy and lightheaded, while at the same time realizing they had been nothing but words. She'd told them how her father had refused to let her marry the man, and for the first time had some regretful insight as to why he may have denied her. She'd explained of the elopement the couple had planned during their secret meetings, how he had been adamant that she bring as much of her father's riches as she could, and she lamented that she should have realized that he was crook. Finally, she'd told them every ghastly detail of her cruel slaying; from the anxious and terrifying half hour she had spent waiting for her betrothed in the dark woods, to the moment she had stared up into his horrible, wrathful eyes and felt the crushing blow of the hard object cracking her skull.
When finally she had completed her tale, all three corpses felt an overwhelming emotional exhaustion. Emily's was the first murder to happen in the small town in the land above as far back as anyone could remember, and her harrowing tale was overwhelming just to hear about.
Bonejangles had been the first to meet Emily after her death, had been kind to her during a time when she may have otherwise lost all faith in the goodness of mankind, and had comforted her in her weakest moment. Because of this, an unspoken bond had been formed between the two. Emily seemed to sense this, for at the end of the night she'd felt entirely comfortable hugging the skeleton tightly and thanking him for consoling her. At the time, her openness had left him rather thunderstruck- not that he'd ever admit it.
Ever since then, the two of them had been thick as thieves. He'd gotten to know her beyond her murder, beyond the tragic "corpse bride." He had found a girl in love with music; who danced whenever she felt like it; who was kind and sweet to just about everyone she met, but would rip your head off if you were unfortunate enough to make her mad. Similarly, he found himself telling her more about him than anyone had ever known, living or dead. In fact, she was the only person this side of the Land of the Living who knew how he had died, and he intended to keep it that way.
However, they had expected that after Emily's catharsis on the night of her death, she would have learned to let go of the horrible tragedy that had befallen her. Instead, she seemed to internalize it, and had directed the energy of her depression into an almost obsessive hunt for her one true love. Perhaps this was why Bonejangles felt a strong, undeniable hatred for the pale young man who stood in his pub and, the skeleton noted, now appeared to be fully conscious and brandishing a large sword attached to a midget.
The boy looked positively terrified, staring around the pub with eyes wide as dinner plates and clumsily waving his sword in front of him as if he hadn't noticed the corpse hanging from it. He yelled confused statements in what was obviously supposed to be a threatening tone, but came out a frightened squeak. He looked over at Emily, who was standing by the bar and looked shocked by her new husband's unexpected outburst. He demanded to know who she was, which seemed an odd thing for a groom to ask his bride.
Bonejangles saw the look of apprehension cross Emily's face. She fumbled nervously with the tattered fingers of her gloves, a gesture that betrayed her uneasiness. They both knew that there was no way to answer the man's question without explaining how she had died. Emily hated telling the excruciating tale of her murder, but it was hard to avoid, as it was the first thing everyone wanted to know upon meeting her. She'd told Bonejangles one night that every time she had to re-tell the traumatic and somewhat humiliating story, she felt as if all the wounds her murderer had given her had torn open and started bleeding again. It was then that he'd promised to tell her story for her if anyone felt they needed to know. He'd written her song overnight, extracting the grisly details and romanticizing the more distressing points, and she was delighted with it. It quickly became a favourite in the pub, and Emily's story was transformed into something of a legend.
"That's kind of a long story," she said, anxiously trying to dodge the question.
Bonejangles knew it was his time to step in and rescue her. He remained leaning against the wall, not bothering to even look towards the crowd as he spoke. "And what a story it is!" His voice was calm and somewhat playful, but rang loudly across the pub. All eyes and eye sockets turned towards him and he put aside his musings to step back into his usual carefree and exuberant persona. "A tale of romance, passion and a murder most foul!" He signaled to his band to start up the music and stole a glance over at Emily. She gave him a grateful smile and he grinned back at her.
If there was one thing that could be said about Bonejangles, it was that he knew how to put on a show. As usual, the corpses joined in with unbridled enthusiasm. Bonejangles noticed the absolute terror that this performance seemed to instill in Emily's groom, and the skeleton found a somewhat sadistic enjoyment in scaring the young man out of his wits.
When the song had finished, the bandleader actually found his spirits had lifted quite a bit, after the band had tossed the living boy around and shook him up a bit. He smirked to himself and looked around the pub for Emily, but found that she and the living man had disappeared. With chagrin, he jumped down from the stage, and felt the perplexing sinking feeling return to his chest.
(A/N: I feel special for getting this done in between tests and papers and lab reports. I'm not entirely sure about the accuracy of the quotes from the movie. As usual, all forms of criticism are accepted. I have a feeling Bonejangles may have come off somewhat... girly in this chapter. He's a sensitive soul, really. Shh, don't tell anyone.)