Make em scream, Nightmarish Child. { JACK SKELLINGTON x CHILD!READER }

Chapter One

Key:
(Y/N) — Your Name
(E/C) — Eye color
(H/C) and (H/L) — Hair color and Hair length

When you were 13 you ran away. You ran away into the forest on a cold November night, the night after Halloween. You had nothing to your name aside from the clothes on your back, and pure determination driving you forwards
You were moved around constantly, moving from foster home to foster home.

When you were 11, your family had split up; your father moved out of the city with your older brother. Your mother had found a new spouse, and they had an 8 year old daughter.
Without them thinking, they had only then realized that they didn't have the money to keep caring for you. When they sent you to foster care, they meant no harm, no malicious intent. They only had your best interest in mind.

But you didn't like it. You didn't like the families you were moved to— and for good reason. They were new, and you didn't know them. Your most recent family also had a daughter, she looked roughly 6 years of age. And you already knew what happens when the family has a different kid.
You took matters into your own hands, at that point. You threw on an old black sweater with orange accents, and you put on decent looking jeans. You slipped into your shoes and ever so quietly, you stepped out the window.

You closed it behind you, wincing when the click wasn't as soft as you had expected.
You stepped back and looked at the house, and before you knew it— you were off into the night, Halloween decorations still hung up around the neighborhood.
Your breath came out in short puffs, you could see the air in front of you; cold and crisp, stinging your face and nose.
You ran for a while, not knowing if you had gone miles away, or only a block away. Another thing was that it was dark, 1 A.M. All you could tell was that you had reached some sort of end. You were in a forest, and at the top of the tallest trees, the leaves got thinner and thinner, all up until you could see the stars in the sky.

There were a few things that you noticed, these trees had carvings in them and they had knobs. Almost like there were doors in the trees. They were all oddly shaped, too.
A Jack-O-Lantern door.
A Christmas tree door.
A turkey door. (You pretty much assumed it was for Thanksgiving.)
An egg door. Easter?
There was a heart door.
A shamrock door? That was probably for St. Patrick's Day.
And a firecracker. Independence Day.

But something didn't make sense to you. Why were there just doors out here? And why were they on the trees? You spun around on your feet, looking at all the trees. "I wonder if these go anywhere," you said aloud to yourself, as you walked up to a door.
It was the Jack-O-Lantern door, it felt fitting, as it was the day right after Halloween. With a deep breath, you opened the door.

...
You were a little disappointed, but not surprised. The door led to an empty hole, you sighed as you began to close the door and turn back.
When suddenly it felt like there were hands on your back, grappling and tearing at the back of your sweater.
You tried to stiffen your body, making it harder to be dragged— but to no avail, as you let out a yelp. Forcefully, you were torn away into the door- evil laughing surrounded you at every corner. You screamed as the world above you faded and you fell into what seemed to be a Halloween land.

... ... ...

(Y/N) screamed as they tumbled through the air, letting out a loud, "OOF," as they hit into a scarecrow, a tombstone and then hit the ground. Landing on their back with a very solid, heavy thud. "Uughh," (Y/N) groaned, holding their side.
When they had hit that scarecrow, it felt like they had hit into a person. So, (Y/N) looked over to where they had last hit it, and was very surprised to see it staring back at them. They yelped again, scrambling to their feet and darting off in a random direction.

It took them a while to notice their new appearance.

So, they were dead. That was the basic gist. They were dead, a zombie.
They could only see from their left, (E/C) colored eye. Only a socket left in place of their right. Their skin felt cold to the touch, and when (Y/N) looked down at their hands, they gagged.
Their nails were black with dirt and gunk that found its way under. Some of their skin had rotted away, leaving decayed bones and muscle in its place. Speaking of skin...
Their skin was a mix of green, almost sickly green- and purple. They mixed together, making a greyish color which made (Y/N)'s skin appear freezing. (Which it was, it was impossible to miss the chill to their bones.)