The Other Nightmare

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AN: The title and summary has been changed, since I've altered the plot slightly (formerly known as 'Vindicator'). I suppose it's important to mention that I apologize for my first chapter's AN. Most of the stories I've read about TNBC have been good, really. And I'm going to add in many elements of Jack/Sally and even a segment that includes how Jack came to be the Pumpkin King. But I do intend to keep the same 'look and feel' of the original movie.. That includes some intentionally cheesy rhyming and bursts of Jack Skellington eccentricity. And lots of different residents of holiday towns. And pumpkins. And maybe even a song or two. Who knows?

If I'm off on the characterization, let me know. I think I've done alright…

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Chapter Three: The Non-Participant

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Jack was beside himself.

The blizzard was one thing. Snow was definitely a marvel that went far beyond Jack's understanding, but the storm that raged through Christmas Town baffled his skull like nothing before. The other thing that baffled him was the Holiday Committee Sandy Claws had mentioned.

How embarrassing. A committee for the holiday leaders, and all these years he hadn't showed up, not once. It was no wonder Mr. Claus was angry with him. Just what was he going to say when he met the others?

He thought back to the residents back at home in Halloween Town, which sparked an internal skeleton grin. No matter how long it took, he could count on them to protect the town until he and Sally returned. Whenever that would be. At this point, he didn't understand what it was Mr. Claus had in mind.

"Jack," spoke Mr. Claus. The skeleton turned his hollow sockets towards him. The Christmas leader has only just returned from wherever it was he went to call a meeting. "I don't know if I can handle another one of your disasters, but—

"Oh, come now, Nicholas," Helen interrupted him with her hands placed on her hips. "Don't you start with that crazy story about how Mr. Jack Skellington tried to ruin Christmas. Goodness, the way you tell it, you might as well have been locked up with the boogey man himself in some dark, shut-up basement."

At this point, Jack fully intended to say something in Mr. Claus's defense, but he wasn't given a chance.

"What matters now is that we try to solve this mess before it gets out of hand," said the round-cheeked man." Jack, you're coming with me." He paused. "It was nice to see you again, Sally."

"Of course," replied Sally as Mr. Claus headed for the door. She and Jack stood up quickly.

"Mr. Claws, wait!" Jack exclaimed in surprise. "We can't go outside with the weather like this."

This earned him a crinkle-eyed look. "Honestly, Jack—the Pumpkin King afraid of a little snow storm?"

"But, Jack—" Sally began to protest.

"No, no, Sally." Jack looked down at her gently and held her hands in his own between them. "You have to stay here with Mrs. Claus. It's too dangerous."

"Jack—

"Not this time, Sally." He said this with his kindest voice, which he generally only used while addressing her. "Please…you know how I feel about putting you in danger."

Sally apparently conceded to this, because instead of rebutting him, she bowed her head and sighed. "Please be careful, Jack. "

"I will."

The Pumpkin King turned towards the door, to meet Sandy Claws and set out to wherever it was that he was needed—he met a blinding wall of snow. Surprised, Jack realized that he was no longer standing inside the warm little cottage, but outside in the middle of a snow bank that came to his knees. He spotted Mr. Claus standing just in front of him; wondrously, the blizzard swirled around them rather than touching a single thread on their persons. And Mr. Claus was standing on top of the snow.

"What are we waiting for? We don't have all season! Hurry, now!" the older holiday leader lectured, offering one of his slight hands. Slightly baffled, Jack accepted it, and was at once standing on top of the soft snow along with him. He blinked down at his feet speechlessly.

With the blinding wind and weather careening around their invisible bubble of serenity, the duo trudged forward into the path of gaily decorated pine trees. Even in the haze of white, the colorful lights dotted the path and vouched for the cheerful character of Christmas. This was the farthest Jack had ever traveled in another holiday world, and he was beginning to recognize the similarities between the woods of Halloween and the wintry skeletons of trees and their evergreen counterparts.

It was a silent trip for the most part. Though a thousand questions burned through his skull, the Pumpkin King knew from experience that Mr. Claus was concentrating on protecting them from the storm against the unnatural elements. It might not take a lot of his power, but it was only polite to allow him to work without any interruptions.

Abruptly, Mr. Claus stopped. Jack, under the assumption they had been heading for the holiday trees, looked down at him with a puzzled expression. Santa Claus frowned and wiggled his fingers a little, and the whirling barrier of snow around them shrank back, to reveal yet another tree. A larger, older, very gnarled and wise-looking tree. On its face was a door—not a pumpkin, or a heart or a Christmas tree, but a real door. There was nothing extraordinary about it.

"Now, then," said Mr. Claus matter-of-factly, turning to him. "I suppose I'll have to soften them up before we try to jump in unannounced."

"Soften them up?" Jack blinked. "I'm afraid I don't fully understand, Mr. Claws."

"I hardly expect you would, Jack. Hmmph…skeletons." The aged leader trailed off as he tapped the doorknob with his knuckles. The door swung open with a flourish of snowflakes and a haunting creak. Jack's eyes widened a little.

"Stay here!"

Mr. Claus's order was only a faint echo by the time the wizened old man's magic swept him up and carried him down through the dark portal. Curiously, Jack leaned forward and peered into the hollow beyond the door. Much like the other holiday worlds, there was nothing here but black emptiness. He decided to stay back lest he be swept up as well.

The blizzard was swelling all around him. There was not much he could do inside the bubble created by Mr. Claus. He was condemned to wait, it seemed. If only Zero were with him. Or Sally…but even though it was a tad dull, the winter storm was capable of disasters far beyond his control. Somehow, he had to get her back to Halloween Town before matters escalated beyond even Mr. Claus's control.

It was this thought that made him realize just how little time he had. They certainly couldn't wait around for something to happen—they had to act, quickly! If he had to confront the other holiday leaders in his most fearsomeness, then it would simply have to be done. How could he have not realized this earlier?

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Claws, but I have no other choice."

Jack placed a bony hand on the door and ducked his skull closer to the opening. Sure enough, the familiar tug of the portal grabbed onto him from within and he was soon airborne. Three seconds later, he was no longer suspended, but standing inside a rather dark and dreary-looking room.

It was a round chamber, made completely of stone and without a single window to shed the moonlight. Other than the pillars and simple etchings on the wall, it was empty. He was placed atop a flat dais in the very middle, underneath the single, flame-lit chandelier. Directly across from him was a tall, ornate wooden door.

Odd. He skewed his eyes. The door was slightly ajar, light spilling through the crack between the musty old planks. The sound of distant voices—several of them, all jabbering at once—came to his attention. It appeared he had found the meeting much more swiftly than he'd expected.

Jack stepped down from the dais and crossed the chamber with his soundless, inevitably spooky manner of slinking. He only stopped right outside the door, observing the well-lit scene beyond through the narrow gap of light.

The room he saw was no different from the one he stood inside—except instead of the dais, there was a table. A dark red, round table made of rich wood with seven chairs placed at its perimeter.

Five of those chairs were occupied, more or less. Santa Claus stood next to another, and the last was…simply empty of any body. But Jack's wonder was drawn not to the surroundings of the illuminated chamber, but to the faces of occupants. These were the holiday leaders! This was incredibly fascinating, and yet…somehow, very humbling altogether. He felt nearly ashamed, but of course, the Pumpkin King would never be ashamed without good reason. That left the excitement alone to rattled about in his skull, much in the same way it did on the day he'd discovered Christmas Town.

There was a short little man sitting closest to the door. His dark green jacket and matching top hat with a most peculiar golden buckle and an oversized four-leafed clover were oddest of all, yet his bright red, scraggly hair and crooked nose, and his imposing brow were all very extraordinary. On his left, a broad-shouldered man with a square jaw and a fur cap sat, frowning seriously. He was accompanied by a young lady with sharp, angular cheeks and very pale, almost translucent skin. She had real, extravagantly blossoming roses embroidered to her dress. And the last of the assembly of holiday leaders was perhaps the only one he did not understand—a normal-sized man, a living man with dark hair and another top hat—this time coloured with red and white stripes and blue band with white stars. His suit was similarly themed, and Jack felt even a little worried about fact that all, even the Easter Bunny—whom he recognized—were all much different than what he had expected. They were nothing at all like him. But what could he say?

"You don't even have the slightest idea about all this, Ms. Valentine!" snapped the green little man. Oddly enough, he was sopping wet. Water still sloshed around in the brim of his hat. "None of you bungling, bugling, babbling know-nothings know anything about this travesty of a disaster!"

"Patrick, we're all on the same page," the woman replied, making a waving gesture with her petit fingers. "Page one, if you're interested. Would you sit down, please? You're splashing all over the place, and I hate getting wet."

"Twenty-six!" the multi-coloured man interrupted dourly. "It will take twenty-six days to replace everything we lost! We c-c-can't sleep, we can't eat. I'm up to m-m-my nose in requisitions for a no-exploding bi-weekly relief period by-law!"

The Easter Bunny looked as it he wanted to add something, but if he intended to, Santa Claus cut him off.

"Now, now, everyone. There's no need to squabble over what's said and done. We should be gathering our strengths, and find the root of this problem!"

"Root? You wish to know the source all this ruckus?" Ms. Valentine hummed with contempt that made even the Pumpkin King himself blink. "After your…crisis last year, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out, old-timer."

"Hrmm?" Mr. Claus didn't look quite happy with that. And Jack was beginning to suspect that he wouldn't like this at all.

"That isn't completely fair now," the broad-shouldered one spoke for the first time. His deep base voice had the aspect of leadership itself embedded in its tremulous carriage. There were beads of sweat on his brow. "Can't prove you wrong, Ms. Valentine, but it isn't fair just the same."

"Ah, yes…about him." Santa Claus looked troubled, which was new to Jack. The skeleton leaned in closer to the door. "In light of the…suddenness of this matter, I believe it's only rational to include every holiday leader in the following debate."

"My dearest Santa Claus, as you can see, we're all present and accounted for," Ms. Valentine said blandly.

"That's where you are wrong."

Jack knew it was as good a time as any to make an entrance. His delight in meeting other holiday figureheads such as himself was starting to blacken into the fine realization that he was not precisely welcome. He pushed the door open and stepped into the light, where he was visible for all to see.

"Jack Skellington!"

"Great Scot! He's a skeleton!"

"Why is he here?"

That was Ms. Valentine, and though Jack saw the same shock and tinge of revulsion on her face that he noticed in the others—he was a fright, after all, and this was the first time they had ever laid eyes on him—her accusation was more abrupt and to the point. And it was directed at Mr. Claus.

"Jack, I told you to wait outside! You are incapable of listening to the voice of reason!" The Christmas leader was slightly beside himself at this point as well.

"If you'll excuse me, Mr. Claus, but I've apparently been waiting long enough. I had every intention of apologizing for my absence, but now I see that I am not even welcome to participate in these meetings."

"Are you mad, Nicholas?" Patrick rapped his wooden cane on the table. "The Pumpkin King is nothing but turbulent, troubling, terrifying and full of trickery!"

"Jack Skellington arrived at my door, requesting a truce with me, and he is my responsibility." Mr. Claus glared around at them. "We may feel otherwise, but so long as Halloween is also under attack by this unseen force, I'll see that we all work together as allies. That includes you, St. Valentine."

Apparently, his authority was as sound as a brick wall, because the woman with the heart-shaped face closed her mouth reluctantly and sat down.

"The people I care about are being threatened by some kind of monster that doesn't belong in my town," Jack went on, narrowing his eye sockets. "As I was explaining to Mr. Claws earlier, the residents of Halloween are more than happy to scare whomever and whenever they please, but they don't treat each other violently!"

"There are houses floating around the town square of St. Patrick's!" Patrick exclaimed. His hair seemed to get even brighter as he worked himself up. "I have to swim across the street!"

"Clearly, something is out to destroy each and every one of our holidays," Mr. Claus intervened gruffly. "What we need to do now is—

The door behind Jack burst open with a thunderous bang and nearly (but not quite) gave the King of scare himself a fright. But as soon as he turned around, he was rather taken aback by the sight.

Luckwittle, appearing as cold and wet as a frozen elf could be, accompanied by several other creatures and beings that were exotic beyond his understanding—including small rabbits, a small winged person with slightly frazzled wings and a bow-and-arrow, and a small man with an old-fashioned musket—came bumbling through. Jack took a few, long-legged steps backward.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Santa Claus angrily.

Suddenly, there was a clamor behind the new arrivals. The Pumpkin King peered over the numerous heads to witness the adjacent chamber filling with one sort of animal or person or another. It was almost as if…

…the residents of every single holiday world were joining them.

But to his bewilderment—relief, too—there were no familiar faces with them. No Halloween Town denizens in this strange little gathering.

No Sally, either.

"Mr. Claus, sir, my most humblest of expirations! A quazillion apologies, and more!" Luckwittle ran towards the Christmas Town ruler as quickly as his little legs would take him. He was still shivering a storm. "The entire town has come! The snow has already buried the cottages at the bottom of the hill!"

"Good heavens!" Jack witnessed true panic on Mr. Claus's face for the first time. "Is anyone hurt?"

Jack wanted to know what had become of Sally.

"Flooded? Completely, consecutively, catastrophically flooded?" Mr. Patrick was exclaiming, upon receiving new of his own town's fate.

The Easter Bunny didn't look very happy, either.

Ms. Valentine was the only one who was glaring at Jack, as though wishing she could burn a hole into his skull. Jack returned the stare just as (and far more) vehemently, and felt even a little satisfied when his sinister professionalism won out. The Valentine's Day leader averted her spiteful gaze.

It was becoming increasingly more crowded with each passing second. All of the creatures gave Jack a wide berth as they filed into the chambers. The noise was beginning to get inside of his skull and what he really, truly wanted to know was what had befallen Sally and his own town of Halloween. If the worlds were becoming so unstable, then perhaps…?

No. Could it be…? The Halloween Town residents…they didn't know about this refuge. How could they? Their own king couldn't lead them there. If something had happened, then where would his beloved townspeople go? They would certainly be trapped!

"Quiet!"

He bellowed this at last, throwing out his arms in his irritation. Not surprisingly, this had an immediate silencing effect on those around him.

Now they were all looking at him, and the Pumpkin King was quite irate at this point. He glowered as he stalked towards the meeting table and glared down at the surrounding faces.

"Where is Sally?" he demanded to all, though knowing only the Christmas folk would know. "What happened to Halloween Town?"

"This isn't the time to become angry, Jack," said Santa Claus dourly.

"Mr. Claus, when it comes to the safety of my townspeople, I assure you there is no better time to become angry than any time all!" His diplomacy was wearing thin now. If there was one thing the Pumpkin King was needed for, it was expiring all of his effort to ensure the well being of Halloween.

"Given the state of our own worlds, Mr. Pumpkin King, it wouldn't be unfair to say that yours is in extreme danger." Ms. Valentine looked venomous as she spoke. "Or maybe not. Maybe…it is perfectly safe, and some of us are beginning to wonder if that is a mere coincidence…"

"Ms. Valentine, you are stepping too far, young lady—"

Mr. Claus could not finish his sentence fast enough for the Pumpkin King. Jack was already slipping through the crowd of holiday citizens to the dais where he first arrived. He should not have left Sally and the others behind at all—what was he thinking? If anything terrible happened to any one of the townspeople—

As Jack was whisked away, he felt, for one of the few and only times of his afterlife, honest fear creep into his ribcage.

TBC