Free Nightmare Before Christmas by Daphne Skinner

C H A P T E R . O N E
    Under the orange disk of the moon, in a place called Halloweenland, the creatures of the mght were busy. Grinning jack-o'-lanterns danced in the graveyard. Werewolves howled. Corpses, vampires, and witches joined their voices in a ghoulish chorus of glee. Tonight was their favorite night of all--Halloween!
    And it had been a splendid one. As they gathered down in the center of town to celebrate, everyone agreed on that. They also agreed that such a night would not have been possible without the help of their leader, the king of Halloween, Jack Skellington
    Everyone cheered wildly as Jack stepped into the town square.
    "You were a scream, Jack" called a vampire.
    "It was terrifying!" added a werewolf.
    "You're a witch's fondest dream," cackled two of Halloweenland's gnarliest crones.
    They cheered again as the Mayor clapped Jack on his rickety shoulders.
    "Thanks, Jack!" boomed the Mayor. "We owe it all to you! Why, without your leadership--"
    Jack cut him off. "Not at all, Mayor," he said with a hint of impatience--or was it something else? in his voice. But the Mayor didn't notice that anything was wrong. He was too intent on keeping the crowd's attention focused where it should be: on himself.
    "It's now my pleasure to give out the wonderful prizes," he announced. "Our first award goes to the vampires, for most blood drained in a single evening. Congratulations, Fanged Ones!" he boomed as the audience cheered. "Second prize," he went on, "is to the Dark Lagoon Leeches, who also have a real taste for blood... ."
    The crowd cheered again, and Jack took the opportunity to slip away. It was strange, but all the applause made him feel terrible. He needed to go someplace that would cheer him up. He headed for the graveyard.
    He was so preoccupied that he never noticed the frail, melancholy figure of Sally the Rag Doll watching him. Sally was sad, too, and with good reason. She had been created by the town's official Evil Scientist.
    Try as she might, and she had tried many times, Sally couldn't seem to escape from him. Although he was confined to a wheelchair, he guarded her jealously.
    Sally sighed and leaned against a tombstone. She had tried to escape tonight, but once again the Evil Scientist had stopped her. Well, he'd almost stopped her. In their struggle Sally had even pulled off one of her own stitched-on arms before getting away and running here, to the graveyard.
    An arm was a small price to pay, thought Sally, especially since she was an expert seamstress and could always sew herself back together. She just had to get free of the Evil Scientist. But how?
    Her unhappy thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Jack Skellington walking along slowly, his bony shoulders hunched and his skull hanging low. Sally couldn't believe her eyes. Jack looked almost... sad. But what could he possibly be sad about? He was the Pride of Halloweenland!
    She soon found out. Jack's bony feet carried him so close to where she sat that she could hear every word he uttered. To Sally's
    astonishment, they were words of woe and weariness, boredom and frustration.
    "Year after year, it's the same routine," he told his little ghost dog, Zero, who floated alongside him, his jack-o'-lantern nose gleaming. "Terror. Shock. Shrieks and moans. I scare the bravest of the brave. But I've grown so weary of the sound of screams, Zero. They leave me cold. I can't help but wonder why I bother at all." Jack sighed heavily. "I'm sick and tired of scaring everyone. I want to do something... different."
    "But I just don't know what it is," he told his little dog. "Why don't I know what it is, Zero? Why?"
    Sally's rag-doll heart melted. Jack suffering, just as she was. She stood up, wanting to reach out to him.
    "I know how you feel," she whispered under her breath, almost hoping he'd hear.
    But it was too late. Lost in his sorrow, Jack had gone.
    Now a tear rolled down Sally's face. As best as she could with only one arm, she began to pick a