Who: Jack Skellington and OPEN What: Haunting of the woods Where: Beginning of the trails When: Late evening Rating: PG-13 for dark humor
Jack had had enough of this straight laced, 9-5, love every human, environment. Things had to change or he would go mad and he would become like the rest of them. Yes Jack really was a good soul, always trying to make things better, but as of late he’d been hit hard with home sickness after seeing teenager after teenager that carried backpacks of himself or of him and Sally holding hands and just staring into each other’s morbid faces. He knew that the only reason they liked him was because he was romanticized. He’d actually taken the time to see the movie and couldn’t believe how accurate it was. Then he saw the end. . .
He and Sally were together forever and. . . Jack was missing that. He missed Sally, he missed Halloween Town, he missed scaring people, creating things. This entire existence was getting to be stifling and if he didn’t shake it some how then he wouldn’t last much longer. So in the dead of night he walked out to the edge of the forest where the hiking trail began and started to set up his new game. Dressed in black as usual, looking more like a living shadow than a man, he held a noose that he would use for his own deranged game. You can’t kill the dead and as much as it sucked to die, this would at least get some sick kicks for him.
After all he was the King of Fright, the being that fed on terror. It was all in good fun, for him at least. Finding a good big tree, he got to work. Easily scaling it, he searched for a thick branch that would hold his small weight. If he was going to do this right and without much trouble he’d have to drop quick and hard. Not some pansy movie hanging where they got a foot and jiggle around. No, he’d have to be able to snap his neck clean and quick. Tying the rope tightly in intricate knots to make sure it didn’t fail him. It took him a while, but he actually got the rope tied off and now was making the noose. He couldn’t help but let out a haunting giggle as he worked on it.
Jack was a morbid being. After all, when dead you had to have a sense of humor about it or things would just be sour. Hearing footsteps he tried to hurry up, but you couldn’t simply rush a good noose. It would unravel on a hard tug and there’d you be with a broken leg or fractured neck. So in the mean time, why not have a little fun with the wanderer? Letting out another giggle, something akin to a child in a playful mood. Oh yes, this was going to be a fun evening.