Our Nightmare

Master of Fright

A/N: Some warning in advance for major character death, some uncomfortable situations, slightly-inappropriate content, and whatnot. Take heed while reading.

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Ophelia wastes no time climbing the Skellington Manor's steps and clawing at the door. Without her owner, there's no way for the feline to get inside. She meows loudly several times in hopes of being noticed. The noise eventually attracts the attention of someone inside. Zero's head peers quizzically at the frantic guest scratching at the front door. His sockets widen when he recognizes Sally's pet. He flies out to meet with her below. The black cat notices his presence and promptly swats at him with her paw.

"Meow!"

He tilts his head. She repeats herself with an even angrier swing. "Meow! Meow!"

Zero gets the message. His jaw hangs open. His master's woman, being taken by the trick-or-treaters? Even he knows this is not good news. He's been picked on by the trio before - his spiral tail yanked on by small hands and false promises of sticks that were never thrown. He wastes no time picking Ophelia up in his mouth and flying through the window, dropping the cat down on the floor. The two race to find their master - tripping over several household items as they carry on.

. . .

Jack Skellington hums to himself as he sets the dinner table for tonight. It's a more romantic scenery than usual - a lit candelabra sitting in the middle as rose petals are littered around empty plates. Clean glasses sit expectantly by the silverware as the skeleton carefully places down his bottle of aged wine. He plans to cook one of Sally's favorite meals to enjoy with a glass or two. He hesitates as his long fingers linger over her setting. He's never seen her drink before - surely it won't hurt to just offer ...?

...!

The skeleton shoots up when he feels a strong chill climb his back. His mind feels fuzzy as his hands grow numb. He looks outside and notes the few clouds littering the setting sky. Nowhere near an amount to cause a storm right now... why is he experiencing this feeling? It's similar to the unpleasant prickling when Sally first visited the old seamstress' shop...except this feels worse. He rubs his fingertips together, pondering this strange predicament.

Maybe he's just nervous. Yes, that's it. He's been planning this for months...and now the time has come. He wants to propose to his ragdoll tonight. He plans to have a lovely dinner with Sally and then take a romantic walk through the graveyard afterwards. It will eventually lead to sitting on the spiral hill...where they will gaze into the stars...and he finds the perfect moment to bring the ring out and pop the question...

Even thinking about it gives him jitters.

He's waiting for her return from her shop. He wants everything to be perfect in the meantime. He strolls over to the Manor's gramophone and ensures his favorite vinyl record is sitting in its place. A nice tune or two to set the scenery...he mentally pats himself on the back. Everything should be prepared. All he has to do is make sure the table is set and start cooking dinner...

He walks into the dining room and admires his work. Careful hours of planning and preparation...and he feels incredibly proud. This feeling is short-lived. Before his eye sockets, a black cat and his ghostly dog come tumbling in - jumping onto the table and knocking over the bottle and glasses. The spiderweb tablecloth is bunched together as rose petals are suddenly thrown to the floor. He can't do anything except exclaim in protest.

""OPHELIA! ZERO! " The two stop once their names are called. He angrily motions to the table they've ruined. "Down! Get down this instant!"