Thud thud thud. Phrixos' feet pattered over the path to the park, he was in a hurry. Unkempt black hair was blown out of his face by the wind, the reminder of the month. October, October. The tuppaware box under his arm slipped slightly, he shifted it back and picked up the pace. He could barely see the corner leading to the park and it was already quarter past…

He stopped abruptly and turned on his heels, frowning. That feeling was there again.

No-one. Nothing. Nothing but the howling wind and the bitter cold that nipped at his exposed , Phrixos walked away, still somewhat thrown by the sense of someone – or something- watching him.

Libitina wasn't there when he got to the park. He sat at their bench, putting the plastic box on the seat and tapped it with his fingers.

October 29th…

"Afternoon, Phrixos, it's been a while." Said a small voice beside him. The black-haired boy yelped and jumped to his feet, eyes wide. Libitina laughed softly and sat down, her beetle-black eyes settled on the plastic box and stayed there.

"How'd you…?" He looked up at the park, sure he'd not seen anyone there when he'd arrived. His mind might have been playing tricks…

Phrixos sighed and sat down.

"Sorry, didn't see you coming."

She smiled, putting her hand on the plastic box now.

"Yes, yes, you didn't. You jumped out of you skin, poor boy. It's becoming quite a habit, Phrixos, yes, yes."

"I brought you something. Well…I brought me something and made some extra." Flipping the lid off the tuppaware box, the scent of tuna sandwiches and home-made sticky rice hit his nostrils, Phrixos smiled. Libitina's eyes lit up at the sight of it.

"I didn't know what you'd like so…" he took a rice ball out and it pushed at being called a rice "ball", it was more… well, to say the least, trapeze shaped.

"It certainly looks appetizing, yes, yes."

He glanced at Libitina, and what he saw for a second made him almost drop the rice trapeze.

Skin pulled over bone, dead grey eyes, nostrils were two desiccated holes in her face, arms were skeletal, teeth were shards of bone sticking out from black dried out gums…

Phrixos dropped the rice on his trousers and looked down, picking it back up and reshaping it. His green eyes glanced feverishly at her again, but everything was as it should be. Libitina was peering at Phrixos with a strange expression on her face, a mix of inquisitiveness and concern.

"Something wrong?"

He shook his head slightly, raising the rice to his mouth. The taste of it made him retch suddenly and he put it down on the box, looking down. His heart stuck in his throat, as if some invisible hand were pushing it there. Libitina rummaged in her tattered coat beside him; she pushed something under his nose, a bottle of pale greenish liquid.

"Here."

Taking it, Phrixos examined the fluid closer. It had the consistency of water, it flowed in the bottle easily, but the colour, like mint green, it made him unsure whether it was poisonous or not.

"This is... what, exactly?" he raised his eyebrows at Libitina, who smiled in reply.

"It will help the stomach aches, Phrixos. You have to take it, yes, yes."

"Stomach aches?" In all the time he'd known Libitina, he'd never been as unsure of her intentions as he was now. Where had this feeling come from?

From the same place in his head as the feeling of being watched, a part of his mind said.

"Yes, yes, you get stomach aches and you've never had gripe water before? No, no, no."

Phrixos remembered having a bad stomach ache once, when he was little. His mother had given him hot milk and, when he complained more, she'd given him something called gripe water. He remembered it as being sweet and rather plain, but he loved it. Jenna had had to hide it from her son on a few occasions when she'd realised that he'd been taking it out of the cupboard and drinking it. Come to think of it, he'd gone through at least two bottles before she found him.

"Well, yeah but…it's green." Was his contradiction. His simple contradiction, at that.

"Well, it's a different type of gripe water, you know, but it does the same thing. And it's excellent with brandy." She took a rice trapeze and ate it one bite, wrinkled tongue searching for the stray grains of rice stuck to her bottom lip. All that doubt had gone from Phrixos' mind as soon as they came, even if the thought of someone as old as Libitina drinking brandy didn't.

"And those aches, yes, yes, they'll be back."

"How do you know so much on me?" he asked now, mustering as much bluntness as he dared into that question. He knew he'd asked it before, but he felt like he'd never got the straight answer he'd expected from such an easy question. Or, so it seemed to him. Libitina gazed up at him with those black eyes of her; they seemed to him now as if they could wile the truth out of even the most corrupt and deceitful of people.

"I've known you since you were a lad, Jack."

He looked at his knees, that matter popping into his head that was already crammed full of questions. How did she know his name was Jack? The answer she'd given just now seemed to fit the bill…but he still wasn't sure. The one thing she was sure of was that he'd asked that question before, and she had talked about his father. Almost like a change of subject. Besides, Phrixos was sure that he'd remember a face like her's if he'd been under those beetle-black eyes all his life.

"So how come you didn't know my dad? He must have been there sometime in my life, no?"

He'd always feared that question, which he always felt was going to be met by the same answer.

No, Jack, you're the bastard child.

It was a one-night stand, child, don't fuss yourself with dreams of your father and eat up your greens, that's a good boy.

He'd grown up on remarks like that, which was why Libitina's shocked him just a little.

"I never said I didn't, no, no. I was telling you myself that I knew the man, he was the leader, remember? It's alright, child, y'see, it comes with the old age." He did remember now, only vaguely, as he was rather cold and forgetful at the best of times. Except when it came to what other people said about him, the sly remarks that he'd pick up on. They were useful for other days, when you needed back-up.

Libitina now seemed to be eying up the flask he'd brought, her intricate sense of smell picking up the rich, bitter smell of... tea.

"Say, lad, that wouldn't be tea would it? Only I'm gasping for a drop of cha…"

Phrixos reasoned it was a small price to pay, the time she drank the hot tea with a content expression, it was a small price to pay for what she could tell him.

Libitina smacked her lips and -to his ears- it sounded like someone being hit with a wet fish.

"Ah. That was good. Now you, child, you cook and you make tea like your mother, sensibly and exquisitely, I must add. Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?"

Taken a little aback by this, Phrixos didn't answer for a moment, but searched for the words to the question that came to mind. Unfortunately, nothing came except:

"I don't feel too good."

And it was true. Now he had to the time to concentrate on himself, he found his stomach didn't seem to be sitting right. He went to say something, but the world grew dark and dizzy in front of him. Managing a quiet groan before he hit the floor, Phrixos just wished he'd told Kim where he was going this morning.

"Phrixos…can you hear me?"

The voice was cool and authorative in some way, although he couldn't place exactly why. It sounded like the sort of voice that could have men trembling at its feet, or could croon babies to sleep. Phrixos frowned. Why was he so warm? He must be inside…But did it matter? That voice was talking again, talking to him.

"…Everything I'd imagined…in all honesty…no it cou-….And you gave him the water? Good..."

Ah. So maybe it wasn't talking to him, more about him.

Phrixos put a hand to his eyes, checking that they were open, they weren't. When he opened them, a black blob was trained on his face. Like a large piece of coal. Or a black hole. And how the hell did he know it was looking at him?

The black blob was pulled sharply into focus, like on a camera. It became two black blobs, looking out from a bone-white face, with two smaller holes underneath and a mouth of uneven yellow teeth. There were bared in what their owner classed as an excited grin. Phrixos was staring up into the face of Death. Or, so he thought at first, having been brought up on Terry Pratchett books that he bit and tore to pieces, much to his mother's dislike.

"Shit!!" He shouted, falling backwards off the chair. Why was he in a chair?

The skull pulled back, an expression of dismay was plastered over it now, but it seemed more at home there than the smile. It was almost comical, the circumstances to one side.

"What did he say?" the skull asked, turning to someone next to him. His neck cracked audibly as he bent it to look at the tiny figure below. A familiar tiny figure, who regarding Phrixos with an amused air.

"Libi-…" Phrixos started, then stopped when he looked back up at the skull, then down at her. What in God's name was going on!?

"He's cussing, Jack. Now please don't be sticking your bone-head in his face, y'see, he's rather panicky, yes, yes." She ambled over shakily and placed a shrivelled hand on his forehead. Dark green eyes flew to it; tears were starting in them now. He was starting to see things again…

Phrixos remembered one time in the asylum, one he'd rather forget, in all honesty. He'd been asleep and when he woke up, there were people there. Just…there. As if they'd always been there and he'd never noticed them at didn't remember much about them, only that they went away after time and they never talked, never seemed to notice him at all, didn't eat, sleep or anything. He'd tried talking to them, apprehensively at first. Then, even if they wouldn't – or couldn't – answer back, he chatted away to them, welcoming the company, however impolite as it might seem. Once they'd sorted out his medication, the strange people disappeared for good. He didn't miss them, really.

It felt like that now. The only thing his body provided as options was either a) go into shock or b) fall asleep and pretend nothing abnormal had occurred. His body opted for the second option.

His next wake-up call was much gentler. And by far less shock-inducing.

"Is he okay?" asked Kim, glancing from the unconscious Phrixos to the hovering Libitina.

"Yes, yes, he just banged his head on the bench, methinks. It's funny what the mind does when it's shaken, you know." Not to mention when it sees things it wished it hadn't, she added to herself.

Phrixos moaned slightly and sat bolt up before anyone had the chance to push him down. He'd grown used to waking like that.

"Reaper Man!" was the first thing out of his mouth; it seemed like an acceptable thing to say to Libitina, an unconscious question. It was something along the lines of "What the fuck happened?!"

Kim hushed him, putting two hands on his shoulders, which he looked down at.

"Phrix, it's okay. You bumped your head and Li-…Litibina?"

"Libitina, dear."

"Yeah, she brought you here." Kim tilted her head up, admiring the old house. It really was quite interesting and stunning, even if you couldn't move without spiders nesting in your hair when you stopped for breath from the dust you kicked up. It was just old and Libitina was old. It worked out.

Far from calming him, this made Phrixos jump to his feet, almost knocking her over in his rush to get out of there. Adrenalin drove his head now, his limbs, where had that come from? His pupils were wide, his mouth turned dry.

He had to get out of this place!

"Phrixos! What…" Kim's shout was drowned out by his heart, pumping in his ears and his throat like a death-toll gone mad. It made him think of black holes for eyes and white horses and big black swishing cloaks. And scythes. He hated the scythes. He'd been running around the house for a while, and seemed to be coming out in the same place all the time. Desperation overcame his panic and then tiredness set in.

His knees felt like lead, they collapsed in and sent him crashing to the floor in a heap. His spidery long legs pulled instinctively up to his chin, his arms wrapped around them and curled himself into a tight ball until his joints cracked. Blood filled his mouth: he'd bitten his tongue in the adrenalin-fuelled experience. Phrixos just wanted to get out of here, to fall asleep and wake up in his bed, at the beginning of this bright, windy, cold Saturday on the 29th of October.

Halloween was coming.

And Jack Skellington wasn't sure he was prepared for it