Sorry this took SO long!!!! I've been working on my other Count Cain/Godchild story. Anyway, once more I own nothing and am not making any profit from this. So enjoy!!
In fact, I wouldn't have been if not for the intervention, if you can believe it? Solely because of the three little terrors known as Lock, Shock and Barrel. My human self, would have never set foot in Halloweentown.
And I'm sure you're wondering, how was this accomplished? But once more, I'll tell you later.
But first, for those of you who don't know who they are. Lock, Shock and Barrel are siblings, always together and prone to mischief of one kind or another. I never knew where they came from, I don't think anybody did actually and truth be told. I never really cared either. Always dressed as a devil, witch and a skeleton, they held the position of Halloweenland's best professional trick-or-treaters. It wasn't that that was made the townsfolk wary of them. No, in Halloweenland it's one of the finest and oldest traditional professions.
Lock, Shock and Barrel were schemers. They were clever. And they always had something up their sleeves, litterly and metaphorically. (I saw a lot of people learn that one the hard way.)
Every Halloween they would come into the human world solely for the purpose to play nasty pranks, and trick treats. And most of all, fruitlessly spend half the night trying to free up the #1 slot of their revenge/hit list. Which I'm proud to say, I have remained the single and uncontested holder of for the last fourteen consecutive seasons. An accomplishment in no small way, I assure you. If I bothered to tell anybody, that is. Not to mention, I'm absolutely positive silence concerning the matter is the only thing that those three have ever remained unanimously agreed upon, without fighting.
Especially from Oogie Boogie.
He was the one they named their leader, the one who had molded them into they're troublemaking little hellion selves.
Mean, fiendish Oogie was a giant bulging sack, stuffed to the brim with nasty snakes but mostly insects. That had a way of sneaking through his badly stitched seams. His second favorite activity was prowling through the dark, looking for things -or people- to eat. One of the main things, I remember about him was that, Oogie was always hungry. And I mean always! For a glorified potato sack, he was pretty much akin to an organic garbage disposal. Also a creature of great vanity and pride, he fancied himself the scariest creature in Halloweenland.
Yeah right!
To tell the truth, looking back on it now. I'm not exactly sure how my even stranger relationship with the three got started. All I remember is it involved, super glued plastic-wrap, glitter confetti, sand paper, a string of firecrackers, leftover Valentine's Day patterned toilet paper (the vibrant kind with hearts and such) and one really cranky Billy goat. Not necessarily in that precise order.
Now the concept of time, in these worlds is a foreign one. To put it bluntly, it doesn't exist, period. The closest you can ever get is the Great Seasonal Clocks that reside in the square and or main hub, of every holiday world. They measure the months of the year, rather than in the way we know it. Which mainly I think is because inhabitants of these worlds have no practical use for it. Oh, they still recognize the concept of day and night as such, but that's about it.
Year after year, it was pretty much the same routine. In the simplest terms you could describe it as, The Great Prank War. And that was the nice way of putting it! Those three would try and try, oh how they tried. Once in a while, they got points mostly for sheer persistence and determination alone. Once in a greater while, for ingenuity and even rarer, originality.
Sometimes I'd hear them whispering outside the cemetery, or one of my little 'spies' would give me some crumb of gossip they'd catch. A couple of times I waited all year, just to watch their ill-fated plans be put into motion, ultimately destined to fail. For the sheer entertainment value, I assure you. And sometimes, I would kick-start a plan early for occasional payback that was always a nice bonus too.
Even though this was so, I was still subject to the world in which I lived. The seconds and minutes turned into hours and days, which morphed into weeks and months. The seasons changed and the years passed, sometimes slowly, other times quicker than I could blink.
And I did in that span what all human children are eventually prone to do, I grew up.
But that didn't diminish my love for my adopted holiday home, or lessen the desire to continue as I had with the three. Who despite all that had passed, remained as children, and I think would so eternally. There were even times in my teenage years I even envied them for it, but later I thought better of it. For more ways than one.
Now just because they only saw me once a year, in human form, doesn't mean I got off scott free. Oh no! Like all the inhabitants of Halloweenland, I received my fair share of, undiscrimating mayhem. In fact, those three were the few who didn't. But I won't go into the gruesome details.
By nature, the folk of Halloween were highly selective about who to trust. I was unusual, even for them and that was putting it lightly. I think I even scared them a little bit, if you can imagine it? Whenever I came to Halloweenland I always changed into my 'halfa' self. It wasn't really anything glamorous; nothing about my appearance was really all that different. Only that I had white hair, silver eyes, and my skin would emit this moon pale glow.
But I didn't let them see me as I was. I wore a baggy shirt rolled up at the sleeves, form fitting gloves that went up to my sholders, long semi-fitting acid washed denim overalls, practical workboots and a droopy straw hat with my hair tucked under it. And just so no one would see my face, I wore a scarf wrapped about my neck and face.
I think it was my secrecy, rather than the fact that I just appeared one day from the direction I did. And due to the fact they weren't sure what I was, and I had an almost perfect humanoid form. Even though covered up, kind of freaked them out.
I rarely came into town. Only a few times a year, actually. One of my jobs was to grow all the pumpkins and the straw, that Halloweentown used in it's celebrations. I would come to the gate, bearing my burden attend the mayor's annual mandatory quota meeting. Where I would be last in sitting at the back, listen to the usual litteral gripes and groans and such, then be first out. Then with a mutual respectful nod to the rat-like gatekeeper, or an occasional gentlemanly tip of a hat on his part. He would let me go on my way, which was usually flying away.
On the other hand, unlike their parents, I was an endless source of fascination for the children. They would follow along at my heels, asking me questions, which I would nod to depending if I felt like it or not. In fact, it was from them I got my alter-egoish name, Ghost. From the little corpse boy actually, he once managed to peek under my hat. Then said my eyes gleamed like, 'a ghost during the full moon'. And thus would I remained called.
The parents would wait wary of me, standing on the sidelines until I was safely gone. Then collect their offspring, properly scold them and promptly forget about it the next day.
Many people in Halloweentown have notoriously short memories, living, no pun intended, only for the next scare. Or prank.
Like I said, Lock, Shock and Barrel. My little arch nemesis', like one would with a wild animal I usually kept a respectful distance. I can't say they extended me the same curtsey. Far from it, I can't tell you how many times they tried to break into my garden in my absence. For heaven knows what, which I don't really think I want to know. But they never have, so I just thank divine Providence and leave it at that.
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It was on such a day, years ago, that I first really met Sally. I had seen her a few times about town, usually crouched in some filthy back alley running from Old Dr. Finklestien. But somehow she found her way to me, and my hidden little garden near the woods.
While weaving back troublesome briars that were trying to weasel their way among my separate and more prized pumpkins. I heard Morganna raise an alarm; in fact I think you could have heard it half way to Thanksgiving. It was that loud.
I was tired, I hadn't had lunch yet, and the briars were turning me into a pincushion. Not in the mood, for any of the trio's mischief, I approached with a mind on giving them a though tongue lashing. Even with the intent on dragging them in tow to Jack Skellington's front step, if need be.
Yeah, I was in that bad a mood.
"Morganna, give it a rest! I don't need the townsfolk who actually sleep at this time, to come up here in a torch-wielding mob." I called to the screaming banshee making my way up to her.
In response, she merely hissed in a tone unlike I was used too. "Trespasser."
That only fueled my suspicions about the trio and I was just about to call up the biggest wind to blow the three away. When to my everlasting surprise I found, not a bunch of naughty, demonic children. But something that I first thought was a bundle of rags among scattered leaves, but in my experience rags don't cower. Nor beg for mercy.
Sally scooted along desperately trying to get away, at least as far as one could get with a half-attached leg and non-attached arm. My heart went out to the poor rag doll; I wasn't going to hurt her. I could smell the Doctor's handiwork all over this, yet another failed attempt to get Sally to stay put most likely. Now if the wizened little imp had really been smart, he'd have invented himself a walking machine or maybe a whole new body. He was always giving upgrades and other such junk to his other creations, but he was just a stubborn old fart, still is actually.
I was just about to say something, when I heard a loud, shrill voice cut like a knife over the path. "SALLY!"
The fear in her eyes towards me was nothing compared to what was reflected when she heard that voice.
Instead of thinking, for once I simply acted.
I jumped over the fence, scooped up the incapacitated doll and flew back over in under a second flat. She must have been too surprised for she didn't fight me only stared with those large black eyes of hers. Knowing what the other townsfolk thought of me, I could only wonder what her opinion was. But for now, I just needed to be sure she wouldn't try to escape or harm me or herself.
"Keep still as Death, rag doll. Or I shall not be able to help you." I said in as firm a voice as I could manage.
She nodded, somewhat stunned. That I, of all people in Halloween would help her.
But instead of answering her questioning gaze, I hurriedly returned to my work as though nothing had happened. Sure enough, I heard Doctor Finklestien call out to me across the field.
"Doctor Finklestien, to what do I owe the honor of your visit to my garden?"
He seemed startled to hear that I actually had a voice. For he quickly corrected his features and gave a polite cough to clear his throat. "I am sorry for such an untimely intrusion, Ms…?"
"Ghost." I replied.
"Ah, yes. Ms. Ghost." He coughed as if a little uneasy. I have no doubt he was. "Anyhow, I was wondering if you had seen my companion, Sally. She seems to have vanished sometime ago. And I am very worried for her safety."
Companion, my Aunt Fannie. Slave is more like it, I thought. But there was no way I was telling him that. I could almost hear Sally holding her breath as if she thought I would betray her. As if. I cared for this little hypocrite even less than she did.
"Your pretty little rag-doll?" I shook my head. "No, I am sorry. But I haven't come across her."
He however much to my well-hidden dismay, seemed to have noticed the leaves on the ground. And as the trees were all long since bare, he came to the only logical conclusion. Even though he had those little dark glasses on, I just knew what was going on behind them. I had to think fast, a quick glance at the gate and I had it.
"You may come in and look around, if you wish?" That seemed to snap him out of his little mental paradox.
"Excuse me."
I smiled evilly under my scarf mask, opening that gate was probably to the closest to revenge I'd ever have on him. So, I decided to draw it out, good and long. It seemed that the gate agreed with me because it let out the most long and eerie, ssssqquuueeeaaakkk!!!!! I'd ever heard, I could only wish I'd had my camera. Because my memories don't do it justice.
The look on his pasty face as he only stared at it like it was a 'death-mile' you hear about at prisons and such. He clearly couldn't believe what I was doing, and I'm sure neither did Sally.
"I've been working all day. Perhaps I missed something, would you like to check?"
As uneasy as Doctor Finklestien was before, I don't think he was any eagerer to get going in the opposite direction than at that particular moment. "Ah, No thank you. I trust if you see her you will notify me at once."
"Of course." He seemed to take that as some sort of weird signal. Because he just about lept for the control of his chair to comeback the way he came. Almost tearing off the wheels in the process.
In the meanwhile, I got back to an astonished Sally. There were no words spoken as I silently sewed her back together and allowed her to rest on one of the smaller haystacks. By sundown, I noticed she was gone.
Probably left in understandable fear of me, I had surmised. I didn't pay it much mind; I had done my good deed for the decade. I was very much used to such treatment by then. It didn't surprise me that the Doctor had found her the very next day in the graveyard, but at least she'd had one night of freedom. I didn't hear anything of her for a while after that.
But the next time I saw her in person several months later, when she caught sight of me. I noticed something in her eyes had changed, she didn't look at me in the same way that the others did anymore. Somehow between us words have never really been needed, even at first.
We exchanged a slight, imperceptible nod unnoticed by anyone else.
I smiled in spite of myself, it seemed like I had made a new friend.
Oh, how right I was.
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Finally it was Halloween Night. This was not a favorite holiday to some; others like me, loved it. Well, it was also a given anyway, I often listened to my Goth friends lament about why it couldn't be 'all the time'. That was something I didn't have to really worry about, after all I joyfully lived and worked it everyday. Even though, this consisted of a well deserved 'day-off' for me, it was still nice to see the fruits of my labor throughout the world anyway. Especially when others enjoyed it.
That night though, I had ended-up finishing with Lock, Shock and Barrel quite early actually. I won't go into specifics, as that would take longer than this story. But let's just say, the result was a molasses and chicken feathered trio duct-taped to the back of an interstate bus, with me waving bye armed with a camera for posterity's sake. One of my more memorable achievements.
Hey, I have a scrapbook fetish, so sue me. And unlike my fellow creatures of Halloween, I don't really do the scaring thing. After all, I actually have a life, litterly and metaphorically pun intended. Not that they knew that, anyway. The After celebrations usually took place after midnight, ending a few moments before dawn. This ' human' party was a chaperoned dance, and most of us had an early curfew. I would be home well on time, and after my family was safely tucked in bed, plenty more to sneak out, 'live it up' as my alter-ego at an even wilder celebration, then get back with nobody the wiser.
The party wasn't that bad, it was the usual stuff. There were alot of kids I knew from school and the surrounding neighborhood in various costumes. There was a pretty cool dance floor with an awesome sound system and small, interesting special effects, lights and stuff. A buffet with the supposedly 'grotesque' goodies you find in Better Homes and Gardens magazines. Others were watching appropriately themed movies, like Sleepy Hollow or Poltergeist, or mostly my older brother Toby, or his best-friend Brice do generically stupid stuff as usual.
Boys, Ugh. Give me the Dead or the Undead any day, because I'll never understand the living half as well.
Anyway not that everything wasn't fun, far from it. My friend's were having a blast, but I had lost a bet with my own best-friend, Wakaba Shinohara. Long story short, she thinks of me as her own personnel Barbie doll, I end up in an elaborate custom-made 'Gothic/renaissance angel' get-up (not that it was a bad thing, it was very flattering actually). And I secretly suspect that Toby had had a hand somewhere in getting me into it.
Basically, I just wanted out of it!
Where hours and countless 'proof' pictures were concerned I had put in my due, and then some. That and my best friend was a stickler for authenticity, as the black, tattered wings on the outfit were beginning to annoy me something fierce. And the corset, while pretty, made it really hard to breathe.
As soon as I came to the safety of Wakaba's bedroom, I immediately pulled the wings fastenings from the black and red corset. Simply grateful for the freedom movement, I now possessed once more. I smiled at my artfully dark make-upped face in the mirror, (which Wakaba had also done and I really liked) and was about to pull off the corset, when something caught my eye. A shadow of movement in the back of the room.
I couldn't help but give a mental groan; I knew it was probably one of my Halloween brethren. Now for some unknown reason, as much as I repulsed them as 'Ghost', I seemed to attract them that much more as 'Raven'. I pulled up the medieval skirt train a little so as not to trip, and slowly made my way over to the place where I had seen it.
Nothing.
I frowned, I knew everyone's macabre games and morbid tricks, inside and out, and nobody I could think of seemed to fit this supposed 'MO'. I couldn't help but wonder if, for once, I really was just imagining things. But the little rational voice that just has to make an appearance, during times like these and shatter any calm one might generate, had to speak up. And so kindly, remind me... I was sincerely praying the whole time that I'd get lucky, and it would be one of the guys in a cheap, rubber goblin mask. Then I could just lock them in the closet for the remainder of the night and get on with my life.
No dice. It much to my careign proved to be right.
Because when I turned around to walk back to the mirror, a tall, thin skeleton in a bat bowtie was in front of me. He lunged and growled, but all my years in Halloweenland had pretty much made me immune to any and all frights. That and my subconscious registered 'who' it was faster than my rational mind did, because my face remained pretty much emotionless.
Now I was a citizen of Halloweentown, Not that Jack knew that at the time. I knew what he was like beyond the mindless, relentless scare factors his other subjects expected of him. Not that he wasn't good at it, heck no. Like the trio, he was beyond the best in his given field. It's just that when you know another side of a person, the real side. It's just really hard to comprehend anything different than your preconceived image of them.
And that's pretty much how it went.
Instead of screaming like a lunatic like a normal human would, I just smiled.
"Are you trying to frighten me, sir?" I asked in a very amused voice. "I'll have you know that not much scares me, though it was a good try?"
The look that crossed his skull was like those Kodak commercials, one word, priceless.
It was a real thrill actually; I'd been 'visited' by just about every creature in Halloweentown at sometime or another growing up, with mixed results. But I'd never had the distinct honor of Jack Skellington, King of Halloween taking a crack at it, nor did I ever think I would. So, in leau of the situation, it was real treat for me. I felt a little sorry for him as his face morphed from very confused, to down right perplexed.
Poor guy, every Halloween, when he went out into the human world, children as well as adults screamed at his frights. I could just read his mind at the moment, 'Why is this one girl not afraid of me?'
The look on his skull was still somewhat confused, as he just started to quickly back away from me. As if I had industrial strength cooties or something, and leapt out the open window into the backyard. I watched him closely, as it was a second story window and I didn't want him to break anything. But, no. He proved nimble as ever, as I watched him land with enviable grace and stealth. Then scurry down the hill and meld into the shadows of the woods at the edge of the property.
Laughing, I changed back into normal comfortable clothing and and went back to the party.
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I wouldn't know till much later. Just how far Jack would go in order to shave off the boredom and keep the impressive and more importantly spotless track record. That his subjects were SO proud of.