Master of Fright (Backlog, Complete)
Character(s): Jack Skellington and an NPC gypsy girl
Content: Jack is released from character limbo from experiments, finally. He wastes no time in using his new freedom to scare the living daylights out of a poor gypsy girl.
Setting: Carta Para Ti
Time: After the experiments, a loooong time ago; afternoon
Warnings: Violence
It had been a while since Jack had seen the light of day, but it didn't take him long at all to decide that it was an unpleasant reunion; everything was too painfully bright, too sharply defined in the garish, unforgiving glare. He wasn't sure where he was, or what exactly had transpired to make them let him go; he simply knew that he'd been dumped on the ground and left there, exposed and vulnerable, disoriented and half-blinded. Perhaps he should have appreciated his newfound freedom more in spite of it all, but the fact of the matter was, Jack was not a happy skeleton.
A girl of nine, Chione, picked her way carefully through the street, occasionally stopping to peek behind a box or in an alley, though what she was searching for was not clear. Her bright blue eyes locked on the odd thing laying on the ground as soon as she was near enough to see it, and she ran over, worn brown shoes clicking against the cobblestones.
She wasn't sure what she was looking at--it looked like it might be a weird-looking person. One of those visitors she had heard tales of? But this one didn't look so good.
Grabbing a stick, she poked at what appeared to be the thing's arm.
Not looking good would be an understatement; Jack was an unpleasant-looking bag of bones at the moment, with slimy grey tendrils peeking out and curling around yellowed bones from the cracks that laced through them, and a muddy, tattered, bloodstained suit that looked like he'd been violently murdered, buried, and clawed his way out of his own grave. It took him a moment to register the poking, but only a moment longer to decide what to do about it; just because his resting place wasn't very pleasant didn't mean anyone had the right to disturb him, least of all a young, probably impressionable little girl.
The thought was enough to please him, so he lay still except for the arm being prodded, which shuddered for a moment before jerking off the ground, icy fingers closing around Chione's wrist.
Chione, despite thinking it might have been alive, didn't expect it to move, and when it grabbed her she squeaked, the stick falling to the ground, and trying to jerk her arm away. Had she made it angry?
"U-uh, sorry...?" she ventured; perhaps that would soothe it?
She had been told to stay away from the outsiders, and this one felt very dark indeed--it almost made her angry, if it hadn't been so much bigger than her, so much stronger.
An apology? How very..... quaint. Just like a child, thinking everything could turn out alright with an apology. Life didn't work like that, little one; if it did, then she wouldn't be needing to apologize to him in the first place, now would she? He unfolded from his sprawled position and sat up, joints strong despite being distinctly creaky; Jack tightened his grip, sharpened fingertips digging into her arm as he drew her closer.
Gasping in pain, she ground her heels uselessly into the ground as she felt her body moving toward the thing. If only the street wasn't empty except for the two of them... She yanked desperately on her arm, trying to get away. This thing was too dark, too dark--just being near it was bad, meant bad things.
"L-let go!" she cried, her voice shrill. "Please!"
More useless tugging that only served to remind her of the nails in her flesh.
Jack grinned. The grip remained as strong as ever; any backwards progress she made was accompanied by tearing flesh and spilt blood, as the opposite motions dragged his nails through her. Please didn't get you anywhere either, nor did empty demands or threats; he wasn't part of polite society after all, was he? He was a ghoul, a spook, a spectre. Halloween was a time where things didn't play by the rules, where darkness and disquiet ruled the night. Cold blue flames flickered in empty sockets as he regarded her. "What should I stop, hmm? Perhaps your heart....."
As her flesh tore, her blood spilled, and it was blue--had the creature she was against not been a skeleton, the contact might have caused some sort of effect. But he was so dark, so dark... She would have had to get in close, and all she could think of was getting away.
"No, no!" she cried, her voice rising in pitch and terror jolting through her. His heart was black and dark and he would hurt her, would kill her. "No no no no!"
Desperate yanking now; she was angry and scared and she wanted to not be here, desperately.
Blue blood, hmm..... That wasn't right. Wasn't right at all..... Blood was meant to be red-red-red. She wasn't human then, even if she looked like it. But then, that shouldn't be a surprise, should it? He'd dealt with plenty of monsters wearing human guises before; they were nothing new. Her insistent refusals, however, were amusing. They begged to be denied. But then again, terror never had a chance to build properly if things happened too fast, did it?
And so Jack carelessly raked his nails over her hand as he released it, glistening blue blood dripping from the ends as he slowly reached to snake an arm around her waist.
She screamed, for lack of anything else to do, as if it might help. "Let go let go let go let go," she wailed, falling into a chant as if it was a magical spell. She squirmed and yanked and then, desperately, tried to bite him. Anything.
Ah, was there anything sweeter than the sound of a child screaming in mortal terror? If there was, he didn't think he'd encountered it. "As you wish." He offered her a mockingly polite smile, the other hand slipping around to get a better hold on her--and then he did let Chione go, a quick whip of long arms sending her sailing into the air as he laughed. Whorls of something billowed from his mouth at the sound, halfway between smoke and shadow; they burst into a swarm of phantasmal bats in midair, screeching as they took wing and streaked after her.
Chione was stopped mid-chomp as she was thrown like a ragdoll, slamming into the ground and scrambling to her feet. Daring to glance back, she shrieked at the sight of bats--so dark, so dark--and did the only thing she could do as a young girl: she ran, as fast as her legs would carry her.
Jack paused to consider his sleeve; it was crinkled with faint teeth marks, and damp with saliva; hardly anything to worry about. As though little, blunt human teeth like those could pierce or crack bone.... He doubted she could sprout fangs at will, or that she had the jaw strength to do him any real damage. Regardless, he laughed again, springing to his feet and dashing after her. Light of foot as he was, he knew he could easily have caught up to her, or simply dragged her down with the bats.....
But again, it wasn't as fun when the fear was cut short through excessive harm, was it? Oh, the bats would dissipate soon enough; they hadn't been made to last at all. And he would run, of course, but he didn't intend to catch her, either. No, he would enjoy the fear until she managed to lose him, and then he would seek out victims that hopefully weren't so laughably simple to spook.
Chione turned corners with remarkable efficiency for a child; she knew her way around, at least. Another scream as she realized it was following her, and she picked up the pace, although her small body would not take her much faster.
She darted down two side roads and into a hole that she hoped was too small for it to get into, crawling through it and into the building it led to.
Jack slowed to a jog as he saw her crawl into the hole, then stopped entirely, considering. Well, why not? They'd had a good run. He crouched down near the hole, noting that he probably could have squirmed through if he'd tried--he was, after all, far thinner and bonier than any normal person ever could have been. He didn't try, though; instead, he just stretched one arm through, snatching at her clothing as she crawled to relative safety. She ought to consider herself lucky that his imperative was to scare, rather than scar, or he wouldn't be so merciful.....