Author's Note: Wow! You guys have given me a lot of feedback! I mean, my TNBC stories do pretty well, but from the three websites that chapter one was posted from, I already have 10 reviews! All I can say is keep 'em coming and I'll keep writing!

*S. Snowflake


It's a Wonderful Nightmare

Part Two: Into the Dungeon

When Jack looked around after the spell, it seemed as if everything was different. Where the graveyard was normally cold and comforting with all the sighs of the haunts that spent their afterlives there, the new graveyard was silent. Not even the wind made sound. Had Jack not been curious to see what the rest of the town was like now, he might have felt unnerved.

"Well, should we head into town, Jack?" Santa asked the skeleton.

"Oh certainly, Mr. Claws, but how… oh my!" Jack then got a good look at what he was wearing. He was clad in a tattered, brown peasant's suit rather than his elegant pinstripe suit and pants.

"This-this is what I used to wear in my younger days. And yet…they're so out of shape now."

"You wished that you had never been the Pumpkin King. Now you're just a poor farmer again," Santa reminded him. A strange, almost grave look was in his eye.

"I see," Jack replied, "but if we go into town, Mr. Claws, how will you fit in? You'll surprise every Halloween creature dressed as you are."

"That's simple, actually. You see, no one can see or hear me besides you."

Jack scratched the back of his skull. "How is that possible?"

"I'll explain later," Santa replied. "You have a town to visit."

So Jack led the way back to town through the graveyard. The town's structure was wearing down more than it already had been before he left it. Stony bricks were strewn about the gate, where particularly tall, sharp spikes stood on top of the structure. Though he had no skin or blood to speak of, Jack faintly imagined himself being cut by the pikes.

"Halt!" hissed a voice, and Jack looked up to see the gatekeeper, a raven monster of sorts, glaring at him.

"Pardon me, good gatekeeper," Jack greeted, "I was just heading into town and–"

"I can see that," the gatekeeper squawked in frustration. "What I want to know is where your daily crop is, farmer?"

"My crop?" Jack asked before remembering his former duty of bringing pumpkins to the town. "Oh…I'm afraid that I had a slow day. There was almost nothing worth bringing into town."

The gatekeeper growled and scribbled something down before handing a scrap of parchment to Jack. "Take this note to the king about your shortage. He can deal with this sort of thing properly."

Then he opened the gate to let Jack inside. Both the Halloween and Christmas king briskly stepped through.

"Whoever the king is, I certainly hope he'll understand the situation," Jack said.

"Oh, you'll see," Santa answered grimly.

Jack looked around the town square. It was nearly the same as he remembered, save for more dirt and garbage strewn around than he would approve of, and street lanterns that looked curiously like brightly-colored insects. But the oddest quality of the square was doubtlessly that it was desrted.

"Hello? Anybody here?" Jack called to no answer. "Where is everybody?"

"I can't say," Santa answered.

Jack saw something moved out of the corner of his eye socket, and he turned to find out what it was. A small, brown form was making its way across the square. Obviously it was some kind of monster, but Jack could not identify who he or she was.

"Excuse me," Jack greeted, though the creature did not answer him. He ran over to greet the stranger face to face.

"Excuse me," he repeated, "where is everybody exactly?"

The brown lumpy creature revealed itself. She was actually the smaller witch sister, concealed under a brown cloak. "Well," she said with her twisted, witch smile, "I haven't seen you around for a while, farmer. I hope you haven't forgotten devotion day."

"Devotion Day?" Jack asked, puzzled.

"Ohh, so you have forgotten," she said, "Well, the king won't like that one bit. But I wouldn't worry–" Then she took his hand and stroked it, overly affectionate. "A handsome thing like you will be out of the dungeon in no time."

"Madame!" Jack yelped, retracting his hand, "Have you forgotten that I am engaged?"

"Really?" the witch asked with disappointment.

"Yes! To Sally, remember?" Jack asked without thinking of the alternate world he was in.

The witch frowned, now confused. "I don't know anyone named Sally. But she's a lucky one, whoever she is." She turned away quickly. "I must be going now."

Jack was too stunned to speak at first, but finally found the words he needed as the witch was walking far away from him. "Wait!" Jack called, "What do you mean you don't know Sally? What did you mean about a dungeon? Who's the king of this place?"

He never got an answer from her, but a low growl from behind caught his attention. He turned to see his friend, the werewolf, breathing down the back of his vertebrae.

"No devotion?" the werewolf grunted.

"Uh…no, sir," Jack said.

"Come with me, farmer," the werewolf demanded, menacingly.

Jack made sure that Santa was following he and the werewolf before he followed.

"Had enough fun yet?" the jolly old elf whispered.

"Definitely," Jack answered, "but I want to know who this dreadful king is before I go back."

"Very well. There's still time, but we have to go back to how things were in three hours' time or things will permanently stay this way."

"Got it," Jack replied.

"Quiet back there!" barked the werewolf, "there's no one even talkin' to ya."

"Yes, good sir," Jack answered. He noticed a sign tacked onto the serpent fountain that read: "Soon to be demolished, by the order of King Boogie."

"King Boogie?" Jack wondered, then shook his head. "No, it couldn't be…"

The werewolf led the two holiday kings to a building that had once been the community center, though now it looked like a ravaged fortress. There were posters lining the walls of the castle's exterior, each commanding different things of the citizens. As the group entered the great door, a familiar, loud voice greeted them.

"What's the meaning of this?" yelped the two-faced politician that Jack had been so angry at in his normal time and place.

Jack could see when he walked into the light that the headspinner was wearing a dark green suit, and instead of his mayor badge he wore an advisor's badge. But what was most unnerving about him was that his happy face was looking at them while his voice clearly matched his sorrowed face.

"Mayor?" Jack asked.

"I beg your pardon?" the two-faced advisor said, still not turning his head around. "There's no mayor underneath the king. And what's going on here, farmer?"

"'Didn't get in his crop," the werewolf grumbled.

"Pardon me, my good wolfman, but that's not a sentence," Jack interrupted.

"Silence!" the politician shouted and his face finally turned around in his typical fashion. "How dare you push your luck when your crime already convicts you? I…"

"Face! Face! Get 'im!" cackled a devilish voice before the politician was tackled from behind by Lock, Shock, and Barrel. All three were dressed in green costumes like the mayor's and had pieces of candy stuck to their clothes. Barrel even had a few pieces stuck to the top of his head.

"What are you three doing?" Jack asked, angry, "That's not how to treat the mayor."

The trick-or-treaters cackled devilishly as they turned to Jack. "We make the rules here," they said unanimously.

"–Underneath the king, of course," Barrel added before the trio returned to bullying the once-mayor.

"Remember to keep-a-happy-face!" Shock said to the politician, pinning him down with her witch boot.

"Yeah, or else the king will lock you away again," said Lock.

"Y-yes, great advisors to the king," agreed the mayor before twisting his head back into the happy expression and thereafter being allowed to stand. "As for you, farmer," he continued, "you'd best apologize to the king for not bringing devotion as soon as possible, or you'll be in the dungeon!"

"Fair rules, aren't they?" Jack muttered to Santa Claus.

"Now go!" yelped the two-faced politician before the werewolf led them away again.

Jack followed the hairy creature in silence before they reached a large line of monsters outside a particular chamber of the fortress. Jack spotted many of his friends there. The musicians had their instruments all set, and practiced feverishly, as if there were pressure to get their song right. Ghosts carried silver platters of who knew what kind of dish as they hovered above the ground in line. From what he could tell, the "devotion" everyone had spoken of was gifts for their king. Jack also noticed that everyone was wearing a green outfit with a particular insect insignia on them. Again, he doubted his fears of the worst.

After waiting in the line for what seemed like an eternity, Jack and Santa finally walked into the chamber of the king together. What Jack saw there was far worse than he would have ever imagined.

The burlap boogieman was sitting atop a throne made from an iron maiden, a roulette wheel, and a grimy throw pillow to sit on. Atop his head was a crown made of dice, and his body was so fattened on insects that Jack could see the side patches that he had needed placed on his fabric skin to keep from bursting open. He was wolfing down one of the buggy meals that a ghoul had provided him when he looked at Jack.

"Ah yes, Jack," the buggy king said as a grub briefly escaped his mouth, "Where are those pumpkins? You know how I love those pumpkin pies."

Jack glared at the monster and merely muttered, "Oogie…"

The boogieman glared back. "Well, well." He then waddled up to Jack and yelled in his face, "A peasant disrespecting the king?"

"You should know that you don't frighten me," Jack said coolly, "Nothing could ever make me afraid of you, monster!"

"Hmm, not afraid, huh? Then why do I remember you surrendering to me, and letting me become king?" Oogie asked slyly.

"I what?" Jack asked, not understanding the monster's words at all.

"You challenged me to a scare duel, but you surrendered to me, like a little coward" the boogieman said.

"B-but I…" Jack mumbled, then Santa shook his arm.

"Remember, in this time, you never became a king," whispered the old elf.

"Ha, ha!" Oogie cackled and stared Jack straight in the eye sockets. "Well, if you're feeling so brave, I guess I'll just have to make you afraid of me then. Take him to the dungeon!" he ordered.

Jack was so enraged at the boogieman king that he did not think to ask Santa Claus to return him to the time he knew. In fact, he did not think at all as he was walked into the dungeon below the castle and the jolly old elf followed him. He only could try to survive this horrible alternate Halloween Town for now, and so he proceeded into the dark.