Work Text:
Spending Halloween at Home
Shock sat cross-legged on the treehouse’s wooden floorboards, arranging tiny paper-wrapped firecrackers, stink bombs, and metal tacks. She pulled forward a tattered burlap bag, and went to work determining how best to cushion the items for travel. Seated beside her, Barrel clapped his hands in anticipation of what was sure to be a riotous Halloween night. He stopped mid-clap and scowled.
“They're gonna look into that bag on the way out!” he said. “No way Jack'll let you out of Halloweentown with firecrackers and stuff!”
Shock fixed him with a purposeful glare. She held his gaze as she dumped a bowl of colorful candy pieces into her tote, on top of the original items. The candy was followed by a grimy bottle of water, and a moth eaten sweater, folded neatly.
“I might get cold out in the human world, while we're sharing candy and making new friends!” she said in the sweet voice she favored when interacting with the general townsfolk.
Barrel rolled onto his back, giggling, his arms crossed over his stomach.
“Stop wasting time!” Lock announced. He emerged from the metal elevator cage, striding to the center of the paint and chalk splattered room. “You don't need all of that silly garbage, Shock. We're not going out this year!”
Shock and Barrel gasped. The pair launched into a rapid-fire volley of disbelief and confusion. Lock folded his arms across his chest, smug and happy to take in their frenzied bewilderment before allowing his compatriots to settle down, ready for his explanation. Drama and anticipation were everything. Every Halloween creature knew that much.
“We are not going out for the holiday this year – because if we stay here instead, we get ALL of Halloweentown to ourselves! Think about it! It's the only time all year long that everyone else will be gone! We can do whatever we want!”
“But we're not allowed to go to the human world any other night!” Barrel protested sadly. “We're stuck here every day! Jack won't let us go out there unless it's Halloween. If we don't go tonight, we're missing our chance for a whole 'nother year!”
“Sure.” Lock continued. “But, how much fun do we have out there anyway, with everyone breathing down our necks every time we make a move? Right? It's the same problem here! We don't get to do anything on our own. Not for real, anyway. But if everyone was gone? Now we’re talking fun!”
“What's here? Nothing much good.” Shock scoffed. “There won't even be candy to steal! All that stuff will be out with them. Although, I wouldn't mind being able to grab a few things at the sisters' store. Those two old prunes are always yelling at me not to touch anything.” She narrowed her eyes, weighing the possibilities. “And it’s true, lots of people just leave their stuff out, their doors unlocked... Think of all the things we could snatch up to bring back here! Who would ever know? They might not even realize things are missing.”
“Let’s steal the Mayor’s car!” said Barrel.
“They’ll notice that.” Shock sighed.
“Maybe just some corn or the pumpkins that were too rotten to use then.” He conceded with disappointment. “But wait. They'll see we're not there when everyone lines up to leave. They'll be suspicious why we're not going.”
“How can they expect us to go? What with you being so sick and all?” said Shock after a moment's deliberation. Barrel looked puzzled.
Lock's mouth curved into a sinister grin.
~~~
“Yes, yes. Everyone is accounted for, in one way or another.” The Mayor announced to no one in particular. The procession of creatures before him jostled one another as he ticked boxes on his clipboard. “WAIT.” he blurted, countenance revolving to panic. “Where are those three? The trio? Where are they?”
“The little one is sick.” the werewolf growled. “I said: 'Keep away!' We can't have anyone else catching something tonight!”
“Quite right!” the tallest vampire added with a nod.
The Mayor retained his scowl for only a moment more, before returning to satisfied delight. He struck three hash marks on the list in his hand, before marching off toward the front of the line to inform Jack. All in all, this wasn't the most terrible thing. Not at all. Had it been anyone else, losing three good scarers on Halloween night would have been quite the shortfall, however the those three were a chaotic unknown in best of times. Jack was adamant they'd improved immeasurably over the seasons since Oogie met his demise. Jack may not have been entirely wrong, but still, they were hardly trustworthy. The Mayor scanned the dark above their heads. Night was upon them all at last. It was time to go.
~~~
The crowd filed out, streaming through the town gates toward the cemetery. There they'd find passage to the human world via slanted mausoleum doors. Shock watched them depart from the highest branch of the treehouse, through a ramshackle telescope.
“Clear!” she hollered down to her companions, as the last figure disappeared. She slid nimbly through the leafless boughs, before dropping neatly into a corrugated tin hatch on the treehouse roof.
“What now?” Barrel asked.
“Let's GO!” Shock and Lock responded in unison.
The town square was a quiet as they'd ever seen it. Quiet and empty. A lingering smell of candy syrup, cloves, and cinnamon hung in the air, along with a hint of bonfire smoke. Background sounds like the splashes of swampy water pouring from the fountain suddenly took center stage, for once not drowned out by the growls, cackles, squabbling and chatter of the ghoulish townsfolk. Despite being the perfect empty stage for mischief, Lock noted to himself that such quiet actually made one feel even more suspicious and vulnerable. He stashed that thought away. This was a golden opportunity. The last thing they needed was to lose their nerve.
“Right. Well, I'm going in there.” Shock said. She smoothed her skirt before marching away toward the witches' small shop.
“Boring!” called Lock, hand cupped at the side of his mouth. Shock made a rude gesture with her hand without turning around. Lock guffawed. He took Barrel by the arm, dragging him away to the other side of the square in search of leftover candy and snacks.
Inside, the witches' shop was cluttered with every manner of magic and potion supply. Glass jars lined the shelves, stacked from floor to ceiling. There were bins of random, desiccated, items, from salted preserved limes, to mummified monkey paws. Powerful talismans for protections of every kind hung on rusty nails, hammered into slats on the walls. Every bit of it was tempting, but not what she was most interested in. Against the far end of the shop were the brooms. Proper witch brooms! They needed a spell to make them fly, but Shock was confident she could figure that out, as long as she had a good sturdy broom with a straight handle; not the gnarled little hand brush buried somewhere in the treehouse. Lock had dipped that one in tar once anyway. He burned away half the bristles and made a sticky mess in an attempt to seal a hole in the treehouse roof.
Shock approached the row of brooms and reached for one. This was as far as she'd ever gotten before one of the ancient crones stepped in to question why she was looking at brooms, and to insist that if she didn't have money, she couldn't just go touching them. Her fingers had barely brushed the handle when she was interrupted again.
“Shock? What are you doing out here, dear? Why, are you looking for herbs for your brother's cold?”
Mrs. Corpse filled the doorway of the shop, peering at Shock through cat eye glasses. Shock jumped as if stung by a bee. What on earth was Mrs. Corpse doing here?! Why wasn't she out with the others? WHY WAS SHE HERE? It was so unexpected, Shock barely registered Barrel being referred to as her 'brother'. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. She typically balked at anyone decidedly saying so as if they knew. Still, her practiced self-defense mechanisms held firm. She blinked innocently at the woman, betraying no sense of inner befuddlement.
“Oh, hi. Uh, yes. Yes! My poor little baby brother! I'm just going to make him some soup! I'm here to get some herbs. I am leaving some money for the sisters. I have it right here in my pocket. It's right here, it sure is, and I'll leave it on the counter.” She nodded firmly several times, hoping Mrs. Corpse would turn and leave her be without waiting to verify payment.
“No, no, now don't worry about that!” Mrs. Corpse assured her. “Sally already made soup! It was on the stove finishing up when they left. It's cooling now. I'll bring it right over to you three. I'm only here for the half the night, staying with the baby of course! Sally is coming home early, then I'll head out myself. We couldn't leave the dear little crumb all alone, of course, and it wouldn't do for our Pumpkin Queen to miss the entire night! I try to pitch in, naturally. I always do. Anyway, so I offered to stay with him. Obviously, I was more than willing to stay the entire night if need be! But Sally said there was no need. I said we could take turns, and...”
Shock felt her eyes glaze over. Mrs. Corpse prattled on and on and on. The witch girl's eyes darted every few seconds to the smudged shop window. She could only hope that the boys would remain distracted by whatever they'd gotten into, and stay put until this interaction was over. It was all she'd need for Barrel to trot out across the square, fingers sticky with stolen candy syrup, looking fresh as a graveyard daisy.
“I am going on and on!” Mrs. Corpse said at last. Her voice trailed off. She reached behind her, taking hold of a black pram. She gave it a small rock back and forth. “In any case dear, I'll be along to the treehouse in short order! No worries! I'll bring the soup! You tell little Barrel to bundle up under blankets. Or wait, does he feel cold, dear? Or is he too hot? If he's too hot, you'd not want him to use too many blankets. I don't think I can make it up into that house of yours, but if you tell me what he's up to, I'll provide the best advice I can! A mother always know how to -”
“THANKS.” Shock interjected. “I really have to go, Mrs. Corpse! You are ever so sweet! The boys will be so grateful you want to help us! THANK YOU. Gosh, I'd better go tell them you're coming!”
“Right. Of course. And Shock? Keep an eye out for the graveyard crows, alright?”
“Huh?” Shock gulped. What was this woman on about now? She'd never have imagined a conversation with boring old Mrs. Corpse would keep her so off balance. Perhaps she'd underestimated her.
“Those cranky crows.” Mrs. Corpse said with a tired sigh. She leaned the pram back on its rear wheels to more easily pivot the unwieldy thing. “The crows were diving and cawing something fierce out in the graveyard! Something must have riled them up! At first I thought someone must have come back early from the haunts, but who knows. Anyway. Watch your eyes! You know how they get!”
Shock nodded agreeably. She watched Mrs. Corpse amble away back toward the Skellington's leaning house, where she entered by a side cellar door under the hillside. Shock made a mental note to mention that item to the boys. Sneaking into Jack's house from underneath could be an adventure for another day.
~~~
Lock finally reappeared, licking a black and orange swirl lollipop. The bathtub followed behind him, piled high with syrup encrusted bowls, a shopworn taffy hook, one of the Mayor's notebooks, a woodworking saw presumably snatched from the Behemoth's workshop, a random stapler, and half-filled tub of glue.
“You pick a broom yet?” Lock asked around the lollipop. “I figured that was what you were up to.”
“Ugh, no. We have to get back. Mrs. Corpse is here! She stayed too! She said she's bringing soup for Barrel, since he’s sick, so our butts have to get back right now! He needs to play sick real good. Where is he?”
“Whaaat? Oh, come ON.” yelled Lock, balling his fists at his sides. Shock rolled her eyes.
“Who cares? We get rid of her, then we sneak back out. We're gonna have to be careful though. Where is freaking Barrel?! We need to find him!”
“He’s around somewhere. What's with the crows?” Lock asked. He tipped his brow toward the far hillside where a murder of agitated crows cawed and squawked frantically in a leafless tree.
“Who cares about the dumb crows!? If we don't get back to the treehouse, Mrs. Corpse is gonna know we lied! They'll keep us under guard for the next ten years! WHERE is Barrel?! You know what? It doesn't even matter. We’ll go back right now. We'll just tell her he's up in bed.”
Lock gripped the lollipop in his mouth as he climbed into the bathtub to sit amongst his treasures. After a final survey of the square, Shock hoisted herself in as well.
~~~
The bathtub trotted along out of town, following stone paths and the meandering packed dirt trails back to the treehouse. As they passed the graveyard, Shock did a double-take. Someone, or something, had moved in her peripheral vision; too large to be Barrel, too quick to be Mrs. Corpse.
“Hold up.” Shock hissed. She slapped her palm against the iron tub wall, causing it to stop mid step. Lock scowled at her in confusion. She shushed him, shoving his head down below the rim of the tub, out of sight. She snatched her tall hat from her head, hunching down likewise.
Two figures traveled in single-file from the cemetery. The larger was the more corporeal of the pair, lumbering and wide. Its fearsome face held deeply set eyes, so red and fierce they appeared to be smoldering. Indeed, whisps of smoke were barely visible from their corners. It walked upright, sharp cloven hooves striking the earth in place of boots or shoes. Ahead, the smaller being skimmed along the path with no feet at all to speak of. Its attenuated silhouette trailed off to nothing at ends of each long tendril of a finger. There seemed no face, only a shifting plane of the same vaporous stuff that comprised the rest of it.
Lock exclaimed in surprise, loudly asking what the beings could possibly be. He did so using a word that would have surely led motherly Mrs. Corpse to fetch her washing soap, should she have heard him talk that way in town. Shock clapped her hand over his mouth, though her thoughts were in complete unison with his. The things skulked through the graveyard, looking warily over their shoulders as they moved toward town.
“Barrel.” Shock whispered, screwing up her face. She looked questioningly at Lock.
“Dammit, Barrel...” he sighed. “And here you left the cherry bombs all the way back at the treehouse, didn't you? Dumb butt. Fine. Let's go check it out.”
~~~
If she'd had a moment more to think about it, Shock would have been clever enough to recognize that years of being Oogie's henchmen had dulled some of the trio's critical thinking. They'd pulled plenty of ill-advised, bravado-fueled, stunts and pranks about town in years past, largely with impunity. No one but Jack himself would have risked a tangle with Oogie. As long as they stayed under The Pumpkin King's radar, they could mostly do as they pleased. Absent the thread of Oogie, wisdom advised a bit more caution. Nonetheless they headed back to the square. Priority one was to find Barrel, wherever he'd gone. Priority two was to assess these unexpected strangers. In the days post Christmas, it wasn't as unheard of as it used to be for out-of-towners to visit Halloweentown. But, no one from another holiday world would have come on Halloween itself. Besides, these two hardly looked like creatures from Easter or Christmas.
“We need to be crafty...” Shock whispered. Their bathtub left near a hedgerow just beyond the gate, she and Lock crept back into the square. Coming upon the two strangers who seemed to be in deep discussion themselves near the town hall steps, Lock bolted forward.
“HEY! Who are you two losers? What do you think you're doing in our town?” Lock demanded. Shock made a frantic lunge to grab Lock's tail and hold him back, but ended up sprawled on her belly across the paving stones. The pair of creatures were so stunned, they didn't seem to register the disorganized chaos before them.
“What are YOU doing here?” the smaller, vaporous being asked. Its voice was similarly thin and airy, but somehow managed authoritarian volume just the same. “It's Halloween night! You should be out doing your job!”
“My little brother is SICK. I am home taking care of him!” Lock declared with a haughty nod.
“I don't see any sick brother.” the larger creature observed. It's voice was thick and slow. It sounded as though it could soak into you like the mud in the swamp. Scrambling to her feet, Shock at last gripped Lock's tail, yanking him back several feet from the intruders.
“Brother or no, you're going to help us.” the smaller being said. “Jack Skellington is gone across the veil for now, I'm sure?”
Lock started to answer. The “Y” of a defiant “Yeah” began to escape his mouth. Shock pinched his arm. He stopped himself, then changed course. An easy smile crossed his face.
“Jack? Who knows? He could be around here still. He kind of comes and goes, being the king and all. I'll fetch him if you guys want to just wait here.”
The pair exchanged uncertain glances.
“Eh. Let's go then.” the bigger one said. “We'll try again next year. The list will be longer by then, anyway. I'll eat these two right quick. That way they can't warn 'em.”
“What list?” Lock asked, genuinely interested. “And HEY! You're not gonna eat us!”
“The list of human fears, of course.” the smaller of the pair replied. The big list of what every single individual person fears the most.”
“Is that a thing?” asked Shock, tilting her head.
“I don’t think that’s a thing.” Lock said.
The smaller creature seemed to try stamping its foot in frustration. Having no real feet, its cloudy appendages only billowed slightly at its end.
“It is!” the thing insisted. “We've read up on all of these holiday realms! The Christmas king keeps a list of all the youngsters in the world, and whether the deserve rewards! Don't try to tell me The Pumpkin King doesn't do the same! Why, any dark creature with such power would! And we're going to find it! We’re here the one night this town stands unprotected!”
“I don’t think there’s a list, you dorks.” Laughed Lock. “Who do you think we are? Elves?” The smaller of the two beings stammered in frustration, twisting its form to take in both the insolent pair before it, and its companion.
The larger creature raged. Smoky tendrils now slipped from its jagged mouth, as well as its molten eyes.
“Besides,” Shock added. “If there was a list, they would have taken it with them, right? Unless, maybe that’s why Jack stopped back. Maybe he had to grab it. I could have sworn I saw him just few minutes ago.”
“We’ll come back next year!” roared the larger being. “We'll eat you two this year, though!”
“You can eat them yourself. Go on ahead. I'm fine for eating them.” the smaller one said softly to their cohort.
“Truly? If you're sure.” the larger said with a shrug. It was nearly laughable, but then they reached out with alarming speed, scooping Lock and Shock off the ground, one in each hand, eyes flashing flame. As the large creature blinked, tiny orange sparks fluttered into the air. Shock gasped in terror, sucking cold evening air into her lungs so quickly she couldn't force it out to carry a scream.
The quartet was interrupted by a clatter, the jarring crash of metal on rock. The larger creature jumped, losing their grip on Shock. She fell to the paving stones for the second time that night. She grabbed wildly for Lock as she slipped, effectively knocking him down beside her.
“Who is that?” the small being asked. “Is that the King of Halloween?”
“Yes.” Lock replied, eyes darting to Shock, who nodded with enthusiasm.
Several blasts of an airhorn split silence, followed by the roar of an engine. The Mayor's hearse swung around the corner of a wall and through the square. Smashed pumpkins and upended candy buckets festooned the front grill. The open driver’s compartment appeared to be operated by cornstalk fashioned scarecrow, an oozing cracked pumpkin for a head.
Shock and Lock scrabbled backwards across the square like crabs, having moved within seconds from avoiding being eaten, to avoiding being run over by a car.
“IT IS THE PUMPKIN KING!” the small smoky creature cried. Just like that – they vanished clean away, leaving nothing in their wake but their enormous companion.
“ARGH! This always happens!” the remaining creature groaned. Dropping down to all fours, it galloped away back toward the cemetery, seeking immediate exit from Halloweentown.
“I got the car! Let’s go all around with it before they come back!” Barrel shouted from inside the pumpkin head. Further cracked by the sudden stop, half of it slid off onto the seat beside him. “Who were those guys you were talking to?”
~~~
Afterward…
“But what on earth could have happened?” Sally asked. She received a skeletal infant from Mrs. Corpse, lifting the tiny bundle to her shoulder. The women surveyed the steaming, pumpkin splattered, hearse, stopped askew in the town square. Mrs. Corpse threw her mottled gray hands into the air in exasperation.
“He didn’t set the brake properly! That’s got to be it! In such a hurry to get everyone lined up and out tonight, he wasn’t paying attention! Why, we can only be grateful it wasn’t worse! It could have hit someone! Shock was down here all alone, the poor dear, just trying to get some medicine for her brother. Imagine, if this had run right over her!”
“Still, I’d imagine she must have caught a fright.” said Sally.
“She was already back home by the time the car must have slipped down here.” Mrs. Corpse reported with a shrug. “Secure back at the treehouse with the others. I brought them the soup. I asked if they’d heard anything. I’d heard such a racket out this way! But, they said they hadn’t heard a thing. Of course, little Barrel was sound asleep what with his fever and all. I think the other two were so focused on him, they missed it entirely. Thank, goodness. I’ll give The Mayor a piece of mind when I see him, don’t you know I will!”
“The steering wheel.” Sally said quietly, touching it with her free hand. “It’s very sticky.”