Oogie's Muse (Jack Skellington x Reader)

34 - Purgatory - the REAL hot spot

Dedicated to Tears_to_Shed

The first thought that echoed through (Y/n)'s drowsy mind, just as her consciousness reared from the depths of her slumber, was the dear hope that she hadn't been drooling on Jack's chest. The chill soaked into her bones and she shivered closer to the warmth cradled beside her. The bitter wind seemed more prominent now and she realised, with a jolt, that she was being carried. The motions of the person carrying her were gentle and soothing, as if they didn't want to rouse her from her sleep; gentle enough that she almost nodded off a second time. Only the murky, ominous light filtering in from the thin satin of the blind-fold kept her awake. Fingers cold and cramped, she stretched out her hand to untie the blind-fold. Immediately, her hand was slapped away.

"Jack," She yawned, "Where are we?"

Jack didn't reply. A fierce prodding of worry rocketed through her heart as she thought back to the peculiar way he had been acting back at home and instantly all of her senses were bristling like livewires. Her sense of smell had never been very good when she was alive, but now that she was dead, she could sense things far off into the distance. The surrounding terrain carried the scent of dead things; dried leaves of plants that curled as they withered, a dampness that could only be described as "everglade mildew" and the lasting rot of decay. It made her choke back a disgusted gag.

"You can take off the blind-fold."

The voice that spoke was gruff, throaty and more of a hiss than any other sound – and it was definitely not Jack's. For a terrifying moment, she imagined that she was grappled in the arms of Oogie Boogie and she struggled while he set her down. She wavered slightly, weak at the knees, and nearly convulsed as the figure tried to steady her. Hurriedly, she ripped off the sash.

"It's you!" She sputtered.

After the delirium faded, she realised that she was furious.

"It's you again!" She repeated in disbelief, "Where's Jack?"

The splotchy face of the gargoyle contorted. For a passing moment, he looked pained before his features faded back to neutrality. This somehow annoyed (Y/n) and she rolled her eyes. She was so over emotionally-constipated guys.

"He left early to get the reservations secured." The gargoyle explained hoarsely. The threadbare outfit he wore was dusty and drenched in a dark-brown liquid that could only have been dried rabbit's blood and, while he talked, his clawed hands fluttered by his sides. He seemed nervous as she gestured behind her into the darkness. She sucked in a deep breath, about to demand, in a voice louder and shriller than one she had ever used before, where her fiancé was, where she was and where the Hell they were supposed to be when she spared a small glance to the side and felt all the words tumble from her head.

It looked like a night club, but from the lingering scent of cuisine in the dry air, she assumed it must have been an eatery of some sort. The building was very open-planned and visible to the prying eye. What drew (Y/n)'s attention most were the jagged, gory spikes placed like a picket fence around the façade; heads were mounted to the spikes, all wearing very tacky star-shaped sunglasses and fluffy boas, which made it look like a flamboyant Vladimir the Impaler had been the decorator. Flashes of club-luminescent lighting spilled from the darkened floor-to-ceiling doors and windows, spilling onto a group of five people clustered around a small, yellow demon that was desperately trying to sell something.

Silently, (Y/n) began to creep forwards to investigate. When the gargoyle, wearing a grimy nametag with "Victor Hugo" printed in gothic letters, did not move to stop her, she started to climb the steps. The demon was from the Mindscape Realm, since its body had been shaped into an abnormality. It was shaped like a triangle, with simple, black arms that looked like skinny twigs that she couldn't help but notice was holding a disembodied head. (Y/n) instantly grimaced. It looked fresh.

"But who doesn't want a head that's always screaming?" The dream demon pouted.

(Y/n) muttered, "A lot of people, actually."

The yellow demon narrowed his eye, for he only had one, at the girl.

"Well, what do you know?" The dream demon grunted, "You're a flesh bag. Or, at least, you were."

Maniacally, the dream demon laughed until the noise pierced her ears and made her want to pass out. Wincing, she nearly pulled her hands over her ears before he stopped laughing. Perked up, the demon grinned – or at least he would, if he had a mouth to grin with.

"See you later, bone bag!" The demon exclaimed, "Buy gold, bye!"

The demon vanished in an extravagant cloud of gold dust that managed to make her cough hours afterwards. (Y/n) turned back to see if the gargoyle was still waiting for her, but he had disappeared – probably to tend to the horses that they had left somewhere. Shrugging, she continued towards the door and was greeted by the sight of many strange creatures (which was a tad hypocritical – she was a skeleton after all). As far as she could tell, there were only females on staff in this restaurant. A golden-haired Valkyrie whom was plucking the strings of a harp, a black-and-blue skinned demon with choppy black hair and electric green eyes and, lastly, seated behind the counter was a giant floating eyeball.

Am I on drugs? (Y/n) had to ask herself before stepping up to the counter. She was having trouble concentrating, since it was terribly interesting to see the enormous eyeball blink. Especially when the eyelashes themselves were crusted with jewels and dyed a very light blonde.

"Can I help you?" The eyeball muttered drily.

(Y/n) couldn't answer straight away. Honestly, she was more curious as to how a being without a mouth might be able to speak, when she snapped herself out of it and half-heartedly smiled.

"A reservation for Skellington?" (Y/n) asked.

The eyeball glanced down, seemed to check something in the schedule book, before it made a rude noise in reply and dissatisfiedly blinked.

The eyeball screeched, "Franken-girl! Reservation at table thirteen for Skellington!"

A cluttered noise came from somewhere deep inside the restaurant, where only the sight of a few orderly tables were seen, and in just a moment, a frazzled-looking girl poked her head from out of a corner.

"I'm here!" The girl panted miserably, "Yes, Iris?"

(Y/n) had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. Iris?

The most peculiar thing about this girl was that she looked so normal. Her skin was pale with a healthy flush to both cheeks, her eyes were bright and lovely and her smile was sweet. The best thing (Y/n) could do was to wave awkwardly to the waitress that was now approaching her armed with menus. Her red hair was slightly coiled over her shoulders as she showed her the way.

"Welcome to Purgatory," The waitress said with a cheerful tone, "I'll be your waitress this evening – my name is Sally."

- - - 

The moment you've all been waiting for! Introducing Miss Sally! With a special cameo for another one of my favourite characters of all time.

Can you guess who this demon is?