Brooke: I have a surprise for this fic. Jack Skellington has come to join us. If you don't know who he is go tie yourself up and jump off a cliff. That or you can read my fic to find out. It tells of Jack's living times and then stretches into his life among the living and explains how he came to become the pumpkin king. See if you can guess when it was he was alive. It may be a little bit tricky. I hope to get a fair amount of reviews on this. Please.
Through the Hollow
Chapter 1
"Freak!"
"Get out'f here!"
"No'n wants you!"
The blond haired boy felt a rock strike the back of his head. He flinched with slight agitation and then resumed his playing. He lightly picked up the spider in his hands and it crawled along his long fingers. He smiled at it. There was another strike done to the back of his head. The boy turned his face. His blond hair covered a lot of his countenance but you could tell from his expression that the stone had scarcely fazed him and he was only growing more disconcerted. The boy had fairly short blond hair but there was also a lot of it. The hair mostly piled up on top of his head and added to the innocent face that his dark blue eyes gave him. In the sun people could swear that they were purple but no one could ever be sure for if you got close the color would be blocked by your shadow and you would only waste your own time as well as his.
He stared at a group of boys in old clothes. They had pants on and some white shirts but half of them looked to be brown from the fact that they rolled in the dirt like pigs. There were some girls behind them. They giggled as the boys tossed rocks up and down in their hands. One boy in a brown shirt with brown skin threw a stone at him. He rose his arms to his face for protection. The stone bounced off, as did the spider. His eyes widened and he crawled around on the ground looking for it. A girl in a blue dress pointed, laughed, whispered to the other girls and then they all burst into a fit of giggling. The boys followed suit. The blonde boy felt upset but he pushed that aside as he searched for his arachnid friend.
"What're you doin now? Searchin for that bug? What'a watse'f brains."
"Ya. You spend more time wiff bugs'en you do your'n species. Freak."
The boy found the spider and plucked it up from on top of a fall leaf. He twiddled it within his fingers and then looked up at the other children. He gave them a cold stare with his eyes, seeming purple for a moment, then walked away, pleased that he had stared them with a stare. He could do that a lot and he was known for it. He was also picked on for it.
One boy in a white t-shirt and blue slacks ran up to him. He stopped in front of the boy and slapped his hands. The spider fell and the other boy squished it underneath his boot. The blonde-haired boy's eyes widened and he felt his pale face turn beet red. The other boy laughed. "What're you going to do Jack? Look't you." He pointed to various portions of the boy's form as he spoke. "What child'as legs like that? So long wiff a'small torso? Doesn't make sense. And what 'bout those skinny arms you'sa got? So long an skinny. I'bets I could break'em. You've got that ball head of'urs and those ridiculously tiny feets. You look'ike a skeleton."
The others laughed. One girl spoke up. "Ya Jack. You look like you died and came back to get us."
"Maybe he did. Maybe'a witch cast a spell on'im. Maybe he'sn't living anymore."
Children snickered and laughed.
A black boy spoke up. "There's only one way t'know for sure. We cuts him open an we finds out. That's how w'know. We cuts im open an look for blood. Ifs hes gots it then hes living. Ifs he doesn't then he's a witch's pet!"
"But, if you cut me open," the boy protested, "I won't live anyhow."
The one in front of him shrugged. "Betters'for the village, you bein dead an all."
"Get'em!"
"Get t'freak!"
The children chased the poor boy through the forest. He ran fast and hard. His legs took huge strides that pulled him far ahead of them all. He grew tired fast and looked back to see… nothing. He had lost them. All that was around him now were the trees of the forest. The woods had been the only place that he had truly felt safe. Now they had dared intrude upon his domain? Sure the forest belonged to everyone but he felt that those who actually wished to do so should only enjoy it. The others found delight in taking firecrackers and blowing up little trees that had not had the time to grow yet. He hated them for it. They all hated him for the fact that he always blew out the fires. They made fun of him because he caused the forest to live when they wanted conflagration. There was nothing that the other children liked more than when a witch was burned at the stake. They would never fail to notice one. He had constantly ducked into his house and heaved his blanket over his head until his Aunt Marie came to calm him down and tell him that it was all over. She was the only family that he had left after the demise of his parents. His father had been killed in a hunting accident and his mother burned at the stake after being accused of witchcraft when he was 8. He was 14 years old as of tomorrow. The week after would be Hallows eve. His favorite time of the year. He had been ridiculed for that too and people spread gossip that on Hallows eve he would speak with his deceased mother from beyond the grave. He was the boy most hated in the village.
Jack sat down underneath a tall tree and sighed. He was so tired. Will I maybe get a present this year? He wondered. Will I be wish happy birthday? No… Not possible. He sighed once more. Jack spotted the creak below him and made his way over to the bridge. He always loved to play there. He hopped up on the railing with a single bound and walled along the side with such precision that you would have thought he had done it a thousand times over. But no. He had done it about seven to that very time. He naturally had perfect balance and he was proud of it.
There was a giggling behind him.
Oh no. They had found him.
Jack lost his balance and fell into the creak. The cold, autumn water soaked up to his waist and he shivered. A stone at the bottom cut his bare foot and he watched as some of his crimson blood seeped out and was carried off by the rest of the water. His black overalls were soaking now and the water came up to his white skirt, soaking that as well. One of the buckles on his two belts came undone. He sighed and looked down in shame. He waited for the laughter to ensue.
"Are you all right?" He looked up. Leaning over the rail was a girl around his age if not younger with black hair tied behind her in a long braid that came down to her bum. She had dark brown skin and she wore a dark blue shirt with blue slacks. Her long bangs hovered in front of her face and he could see the shook that she wore on her countenance. She repeated the question. "Are you all right?" She looked at his bleeding foot and cupped her hands to her mouth in alarm.
He looked back down at his foot and then hurriedly got to his feet. He climbed out of the water. "I'm fine. Not to worry. It takes a lot more than that to hurt Jack Skellington."
She giggled and rushed to the water's edge. When he sat down she immediately took his foot and examined it. She was surprised to find that the bleeding had already stopped and that his blood had already begun to clot and heal the cut. She raised an eyebrow at him. "You heal very quickly."
"It runs in my family."
She smiled and extended her hand to him. "I'm Adine Buhan."
He shook it. "I'm Jack Skellington."
---
The two walked into the outskirts of the city laughing and giggling at one another's jokes. The other children watched them from a distance with curiosity. Soon one boy, Thomas Well, walked over and confronted them with his gang. He looked the girl over and ignored Jack completely. "You ain't from 'round here are ya?"
She shook her head. "I'm new."
"Well, ifs it's friends that yous want don't be talking t'im. Jack's nothin but trouble. Trouble I tells ya. T-R-O-B-L-E ! Trouble!"
"Why do you say that?"
"Because he'sa witch likes him mother. And he'sa trouble maker likes him father. And I bets his aunt'll be burned at'te stake too one day."
"Don't you say that about my auntie!"
"Oh ya? An whats're you goin to do Jack? Hit me? I dares ya! I double dares ya!"
Jack hit him.
Tom stumbled backwards and tumbled into a nearby chicken coop. Soon a fight ensued between the boys. Thomas walked away down the dirt road, beaten, bruised and defeated. Jack walked home victorious, content and disappointed. During the battle Adine's father had appeared and whisked her away. Jack was informed that she was moving away again the very next day and so he would never see her again. At least he had an auntie to go home to. She would love him no matter what happened and she would always be there to dry his eyes. Always.
---
That was Jack's life. He experienced depression, joy, victory and disappointment on a daily basis. He lived that way for years in that village. Always hated by everyone. The strange thing was he grew up to be one of the most well-mannered, simple, well-dressed and most handsome adults from that lot of children in the whole township. Eventually the elders began to grow fond of the boy's simple and kind ways. He showed great faith towards everyone and he was always willing to help.
But those few children still hated him. They hated him so much. Especially Thomas Well. Poor Tom hated Jack. Jack took the woman that Tom had fallen in love with away from him. However the skinny boy had never intended on doing it. He hadn't even liked the girl. When Tom asked him why Jack said that he found nothing interesting in her. She cried and Tom fought with Jack. He lost miserably and Jack walked away practically unharmed.
The teacher had always loved Jack best in class even though Tom was a good student. Jack was always a little bit better than him in everything. He was better looking. He was better at playing sports. He was better at winning people's affection. He was a better and kinder person in terms of behaviour. He even had better grammar and a larger vocabulary then Tom or any of the other children from then as a matter of fact. Tom hated him for it but at the same time wished to be him.
Tom hated him so.
---
It was Jack's 20th birthday today.
He took his present from his Auntie reluctantly. He looked at it and then set it on the table. "You really didn't have to get me anything."
"Nonsense!" Marie pushed the present to him and smiled. "Tis your Birthday and on such day you will get something. Tis what you get." She signalled towards the present. "Now, open it."
He sighed and undid the bow. He noticed little holes in the box's sides. He pulled at the white paper on the box and was greeted by a wet tongue that knocked him back off of his chair and soaked his pale face. On him sat a small, black dog with a long tail that wagged at him gaily. The nose shone like a beautiful red in the light yet Jack knew that it was really black. He smiled at the dog. It had a metal chain hanging from around its neck that read 'Zero'.
"Zero. I like that name for you." Jack picked the dog up and rubbed his nose to the canine's. "Zero it is. You shall be a grand companion." He leaned down and hugged and kissed his Aunt Marie. "Thank you Auntie. Thank you so much."
"And you wished for nothing."
He smiled.
---
Thomas Well stared in the window of Jack's house at the brand new dog that he had received. He grimaced with hatred. He had gotten nothing but a few apples that his father had stolen from a few farmers in the next village. Why did Jack always get the better things? He had liked it when they were younger and his father had a job and didn't drink. Thomas had all the toys that he wanted and more whereas Jack had nothing. But he had gotten a good job at the mill and Thomas had wanted it. Jack had the better things now and Thomas had nothing.
He kicked up dirt as he walked by and thrust his hands into his pockets. "That's unfair. Jack' all t'luck. He's taken t'all from me. What'do I've t'show for my bravery 'gainst him? Nothing! He's t'all! And I ain't the only one thinks so." Thomas looked around him at all the children that he had played with. They all hated Jack as well. There were still a few adults that hated the boy but it was mostly nothing. He sighed. "I wants to gets back at'im. Buts how can I do it? How?" Thomas thought and an evil ploy crept into his head. Jack had taken everything from him. Why not take something from Jack? Or two? Take two things from Jack! Or three? Yes! No! Take everything! Like Jack had done to him! It would not take him very long to round up all the necessary people to do it. Maybe a day. Jack would be in a fit by Hallows Eve night. Thomas snickered wickedly to himself and then hurried off to tell the others of his ploy against the troublesome subsequent teen.
---
Brooke: O.o Whoa. Did that guy sound as creepy as that?
Jack: What do you mean?
Brooke: (points to Calumon in corner.) He looks freaked out.
Impmon: That's because Jack practised his maniac pose and laughter on him.
Brooke: Really?
Jack: Sorry.
Brooke: Don't be. Calumon is annoying. In my eyes he needed that to show him how cruel life can be. Speaking of cruel if you can't stand the horrible deeds of jealous people do not read the next chapter. Vengeance comes out in two fold and the people who shouldn't suffer do.
Fiendmon: I think you gave it away.
Brooke: Did I? Oops…
