CORALINE
Based on the novel by Neil Gaiman
Movie written by Henry Selick
Fanfiction by Vargravn
Inspiration to create this work: The book/movie, my freaking life and good ol' Halloween
Being able to trade guns for hostages in hiding all the evidence: Priceless.
Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.
—G. K. Chesterton
Silly drossy, yes. You're drawn away,
Though she's swiftly watching day by day,
Listen to my messenger.
In the space between spaces a door opens to a mysterious old small sewing room at night. This strange being heard of something coming to this abode and so decided to prepare for the arrival. Against a black, star-pricked sky when something appears in the distance. A button-eyed doll floats towards the being, through the open window where it lands in a pair of waiting hands, hands that are made of sewing needles.
Dreaming, dreaming, dream of another world,
Dreaming, dreaming, dream of another world,
Dreaming, freezing, (let it fester), dream of somebody- dee dah dah.
Freezing, drawing, (be her jester), dreams of another world,
The doll - which resembles a young black girl in old-fashioned clothes, hair fixed with ribbons and braids - is placed on a sewing table. The being opens an elaborate sewing kit is opened, and, in flickering green light, its needle-hands go to work. The being leans in close as it began its very surgical work; the doll's old clothes are cut away; button-eyes torn off; hair pulled out. The doll's stuffing is removed and then the empty cloth body is pulled inside out, turning from nut brown to pale pink.
Every ever tiny teardrop, son, reach her,
This is the heaven, keep it so, so warm.
Sawdust is poured in the new doll's mouth. it is place on the sewing table and with a string through the eye of the needle the facial features added; first is sewing the mouth back up, next fresh pair of shiny black button eyes is selected from a vast catalogue of the button drawer and are sewed in accordingly, and then blue yarn hair punched in to the holes on the dolls head. The attire of choice for the doll next comes; given what has been seen of this particular person the being a yellow is selected, cut out of the same similar material on a dotted line and with a spin of the sew machine wheel the coat is created.
Funny lady riding on a rolling ball with legs,
Someone knows all better than you.
Don't go through the door.
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalala . . .
The newly transformed doll, in a little yellow raincoat, its new button eyes affixed, is released out the window and back into the night. And the being closed the glass window and waits for whoever has the doll likeness find it.
It is Day time Ashland, Oregon at a rambling old Queen Anne-style house with tacked-on outside stairs and a sign in front that reads "Pink Palace, Apartment for Rent". Its late winter, the sky is like a damp, grey sponge. In the sky standing on top of the house is Mr. Bobinsky - a seven-foot-tall blue-skinned man - performs calisthenics on the rooftop, counting in Russian. "Dras, dva, tri, chetyri. Dras, dva, tri, chetyri. Dras, dva, tri ..."
A beeping sound begins and he pauses. A tired moving van backs into frame and up the muddy driveway. A VW beetle - suitcases roped to its top - recklessly passes the truck and disappears around the side of the house. Bobinsky, having his morning exercise disturbed, shakes his fist angrily after the car and shouts: "Mer-sa-vich!" before he marches away indignantly.
"We're here. Time to muscle up." One of the movers in the truck says to his companion. They get out and wrenched open the moving truck's rear doors and starts unloading boxes and beat-up furniture in to the Pink Palace.
As they did a rotund little old English lady with bad legs, surveys the movers as they pass by her chair-lift with boxes and furniture. The old gal can't wait to tell her flat mate below about the young, strapping men.
With the job finally finished, one of the movers heads down the front steps while the other mover waits for a signature from the new tenant. Papers signed here and there it was all finished. Until the mover stopping the door with his boot and held his hand for a tip. A tip is given and the door is shut. The mover becomes disappointed at the sight of a single, grubby one dollar in his hand - All that work and not a very good tip. The people who moved in here must be a pack of cheapskates.
Meanwhile, as the movers moved on a mangy black cat with blue eyes and a crooked tail observes with concern. Beside him is a tall young man dressed in a long knee length black leather jacket with grey fur lining the rim of the hood, which shows similar interest in the newcomers as the cat and the kid watching house with a specialized lens in his mask.
A door bangs open the three turns towards the back porch to investigate. Stepping out onto the porch is Coraline Jones, blue hair, yellow raincoat with a shoulder bag and a skeptical face. She glances furtively over her shoulder, then hops down the steps and moves diagonally away from the house heading towards the woody shrub that sits beside a tall iron gate. Coraline reaches into the shrub and breaks off a forked branch. She removes the stick's red leaves, aims it like a dowsing rod and with it as her guide heads into the old garden. The spy rises up out of the shrub, wearing a three-eyed skeleton mask on his head and skeleton gloves on his hands. The black cat hops out o the shrub, glances at the spy and follows the girl. The taller guy watches the two follow (or a better word for this would be stalk) the blue haired girl. He shakes his head with a chuckle and continues on his walk.
Coraline explores the drained, crumbling fish pond. She finds an old turtle shell in the muck and holds it up. After rapping on it to make sure it's empty, she puts the shell into her shoulder bag. Wonder of wonders. Coraline aims her forked stick once more then follows it up from the pond and out the back gate. A gust of wind blows dead leaves into a swirling eddy high up into the air.
Little later Coraline also explored for animals. She found a hedgehog, and a snake-skin (but no snake), and a rock that looked just like a frog, and a toad that looked just like a rock. She went on a rocky path high above house under a sky, now dark with gathering storm, she steps on an old railroad tie, and her foot sinks into the rotted wood, stopping her.
The cat leans out for a better view, and dislodges some stones that roll down past Coraline. The cat quickly ducks as she jerks her head its way. Unnerved, Coraline calls out.
"Hello? ... Who's there?"
She throws a rock over the wall of stones, hits the unseen spy, causing a cry of pain. ANIMAL? HUMAN? Freaked out, she gasps, runs up the trail. The haughty black cat rises up and hops onto the stone wall to watch Coraline.
Coraline races down past an old tractor and into an orchard. Wind begins to blow as she runs through the old apple trees, where she nearly trips on the tongue of a harvest cart. Finally, she backs into a circle of toadstools in front of a stump. Breathing hard, she looks out for her pursuer. The black cat shoots past Coraline in the tall grass. She can't see him but she knows something is there. Already behind her now, the cat leaps onto the stump with a loud, warning MEROWWW!
Startled, Coraline yells and whips around. She's both angry and relieved when she sees it's just some cat.
"You scared me to death, you mangy thing!"
Cat glares at her with blue opal eyes, makes a low growl as she stands.
She exhales. "I'm just looking for an old well. Know it?" she asked the cat.
The Cat just blinks its eyes slowly.
"Not talking, huh?"
The wind begins to picks up. With nothing else to do she grasps the forks of her stick, closes her eyes, and, tracing a figure eight above her, and says: "Magic dowser, magic dowser: show ... me ... the well!"
suddenly as if on cue a
The spy moves into position on top of the hill, astride some kind of motor-bike. He presses a button on the handlebars and blasts a loud air horn. Startled, Coraline spins around. As lightning flashes and thunder rolls, Coraline sees him for the first time. With his turret-lensed skull mask and skeleton gloves and black fireman's coat flapping in the wind, he looks like a psycho killer on a motorbike that roar like a chainsaw!
He revs his motor, pops a wheelie, and then swoops down the bluff towards her. She hollers in fear, then tries to whack him with her forked stick. "AHHHHH! GET AWAY FROM ME—"
He snatches it from her as he passes, knocking her to the muddy ground. He side-skids his bike, hops off and jumps up onto the stump. Looking ten feet tall from the ground, thunder and lightning at a peak, the spy turns his three-eyed turret lens and studies her like a predatory alien. All he needs now is a trio-targeting laser and he'll be set.
And then, the thunder and lightning just fade away and this psycho-killer, three-eyed spy pulls off his welder's mask and Coraline gasps - he's just a short kid in a costume. Wow, gee. NOBODY saw THAT coming . . .
Shoulders hunched, neck bent, the Spy examines Coraline's forked stick, aims it around. Oblivious to the fright he gave to Coraline.
"Hoo! let me guess, you're from Texas or Utah; someplace dried out and barren, right? I heard about water-witching before but it doesn't make sense; I mean, it's just an ordinary branch."
"IT'S A DOWSING ROD!" Enraged, Coraline smacks the Spy on the leg hard enough for him to release it into the air to which Coraline snatches it. "And I DON'T LIKE BEING STALKED, not by PSYCHO-NERDS OR THEIR CATS!"
At the expense of being hit again the Spy gets the picture. He crouches, nervous, to scratch the cat behind his ears to which the cat purrs like a diesel.
"He's not really my cat; he's kinda feral you know, wild? Of course, I do feed him every night and sometimes he'll come in my window `n bring me little dead things." the Spy says with a creepy future-serial-killer smile.
Coraline decides to answer the inquiry. "Look, I'm from Pontiac."
"Huh?" the Spy uttered. Wondering if it's a person place or a thing, in which case it's all three. In this case it's a place.
"MICHIGAN? And if I'm a "water witch", THEN-where's the secret WELL?" she points stick, stomps foot.
"You stomp too hard and you'll fall in it!" the Spy warns.
Coraline reacts, hops out of the springy circle. The boy scrapes at the ground, revealing a circular covering made of wooden planks. He wedges a fallen branch under one side, and, using a rock for the fulcrum, pries up the covering.
The Spy gives the cover two knocks show the hollowness and deepness in the knock. "See? Supposed to be so deep if you fell to the bottom and looked up, you'd see a sky full of stars in the middle of the day."
"Huh." she utters. Seeing that this kid and cat are no danger Coraline tone softens as her frown relaxes and the black cat tilts his head, noticing her change in tone. He steps off the branch, and the well cover thumps in place.
The Spy jerks his head toward the pink house in distance. "Surprised she let you move in ... my Gramma. She owns the "Pink Palace" Won't rent to people with kids."
"What do you mean?" Coraline asked.
The Spy suddenly worried as if the Evil Eye is watching him. "Uh... I'm not supposed to talk about it." Changing the subject, he lifts a gloved hand to shake. "I'm Wybie, Wybie Lovat."
"Wybie?"Coraline becomes skeptical at the odd name.
"Short for Wyborne. Not my idea, of course. What'd you get saddled with?" Wybie asked.
"I wasn't saddled with anything. It's Coraline."
"Caroline what?"
"Coraline. Coraline Jones." Coraline stomped her foot upon hearing someone get her name wrong – again.
Wybie is confused, not hearing it the difference. "Hmmm ... It's not real scientific, but I heard an ordinary name, like Caroline - can lead people to have ordinary expectations about a person—"
Her face goes as dark as the rain clouds above. Her parents just some happen to be one of those parents in the world who feel they child should be given an out-of-the-ordinary name at birth.
"Wyborne!" called a woman's voice from afar. The cat's eyes widened in surprise and its body froze.
"I think I heard someone calling you, Wyborne." Coraline pointed out.
Wybie stood up from scratching the cat, which promptly fell over due to its legs crossed in the joy of the scratching sensation. "What? I didn't hear anything—"
"Oh, I definitely heard someone, Why-were-you-born." Coraline said with emphasis on his name.
A distant dinner bell clangs. "Wyborne!"
"Grandma!" Wyborne said under his breath, nervously.
He holds up his hands in surrender, nodding with eyes closed, forcing some laughs. Coraline gives him her bottom-lipped stinkface. "Heh. Well, great to meet a Michigan water witch." He picks up his bike, wheels it around, then holds up his gloved hands. "But I'd wear gloves next time." he gives one last word of caution.
Coraline pats the dowsing rod in the palm of her other hand, threatening to hit him with it. "Why?" she asked skeptically.
He points to her dowsing rod, nods. "`Cause that dowsing rod of yours? Uh, it's poison oak."
"Ehh!" Coraline drops the stick as he zooms away and wipes her hands on her clothes. She sticks out her tongue at him. The cat merows at her, shaking his head with a pitying look, then trots away after Wybie.
She looks down at the covering to the well. Coraline finds a pebble and drops it through a small knot-hole. Ear at the knot-hole, she counts in her head until there's a watery "plop" far below. Fat raindrops start to fall around her.
Well time to head back inside. Coraline pulls up her hood and head heads back down the path to the Pink Palace. As she enters the garden again she sees a tall guy standing on the bridge look out at the landscape. With interest she walked over to another resident in the area (Hopefully this one isn't crazy).
"Hi." Coraline said.
"Shhhhh . . ." the young guy gently shushed her with his pointer against him lips.
"What?" Coraline asked quietly.
The young guy pointed to the rising landscape. "There is a wolf out there. Grey and alone, searching for something to eat but has found none.
Coraline narrowed her eyes and sure enough in the distance was a wolf standing on the hill looking around.
"Riiigght." Coraline said.
"You're new here, right?" the tall young guy asked turning to her. He was handsome, athletic with blue-grey eyes and black hair with in a Mohawk style. He smile was calm but his eyes where very keen.
"Yeah, my parents and I just moved in." Coraline said.
"My name is Dante. Dante Sparda. What's yours" he held up his hand to shake.
Coraline shook it. "It's Coraline Jones."
"Huh. Interesting name, not many are named Coraline." Dante commented.
"Huh."
"What?"
"You're one of the few people I've meet who got my name right the first time."
"I am?" Dante asked with raised eyebrows.
"Yeah, people confuse my name with Caroline." Coraline said.
"Uh-huh." Dante said.
"A met a weird kid said: 'It's not real scientific, I heard an ordinary name, like Caroline - can lead people to have ordinary expectations about a person.'"
"I see you met Wybie." Dante said.
"You know that creep." Coraline asked.
Dante nodded. "And his cat, or rather the cat that follows him around."
"Huh." Coraline said walked on to the house.
"Well I guess I'll be seeing you around inside the Pink Palace." Dante said.
Coraline turned around with raised a brow. "You live in the Pink Palace."
"Yep. There is a large room that's between the main house and the attic that I and my youngest brother live in. I live in the space between spaces in a way. I think it used to be a servants quarters or a library, I dunno. Anyway, given you guys are staying in the main part of the house talked this over with your folks. They fine with it, even though they seem more interested in typing on their computers."
"That's my parents … and their job." Coraline said blandly.
"Huh … welcome to the neighborhood or as like to call it: The Nuthouse."Dante said with arms raised unto the air for emphasis.
"Hmm-mm." Coraline nodded and noticed Ruby necklace shining on his black T-shirt. It was certainly a necklace you don't see every day. She turned and went back inside the Pink Palace.
Dante looked up at the house and narrowed his eyes before walking off the bridge and into the nearby mist covered forest. Strange things have happen, and now even stranger this will happened now with the new tenets. Life is strange . . .
Ridiculous
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hooray once again I created a fanfic crossover that nobody has thought of before, and I'm surprise that nobody ever has. Any since it Halloween month I thought I create and upload a spooky story from one of my favorite movies I enjoy. I never really read the original book by Neil Gaiman but I'll give it a whirl at some point.
Write, rant, and comment. Don't just favorite the story – GIVE ME DELICIOUS COMMENTS! If there are 22 favorites at some point I expect 22 or so comments. Feedback helps motivate us all.
Until then, stick around and stay classy. ;3