Author's Note: Greetings, and welcome to the Alternate Universe of The Darkest Nightmare. This tale of passion, danger, and murder most foul is based upon the film The Nightmare Before Christmas. Several events in this story will correlate to those from the movie, and even some historical facts from our world will worm their way in. Let the reader beware! Whosoever points these out will get *bonus points*. Detective Hal Owens is an alternate version of my OC, Hal Samhain. He is not intended to be a love interest for Sally. That position will by filled by Mr. Skellington, whenever he happens to show up. *Advisory* I do not own The Nightmare Before Christmas, nor will I ever. That said, read, review, and enjoy you wanderers of the Internet! Thank your for your time.

The Darkest Nightmare

Chapter One: Arsenic in the Sugar Bowl

"You clumsy girl!" shrieked old Dr. Finklestein from his motorized wheelchair. His daughter, Sally, had just run into him, making him drop the jar of arsenic he was carrying, as well as spilling the bowl of sugar she had been bringing to breakfast table for her coffee. What had resulted was a white, powdery mess all over the kitchen floor. It was impossible to tell what was the poison and what was the sweetener. Sally sighed. It would all have to be thrown out.

She walked silently over to the pantry, opened it, and pulled out a dustpan. "I'm sorry Father," she intoned dully, all the while looking at her wristwatch. "I'll pick up this mess." Damn it. She was going to be late for work, again, and this time she had a meeting with Captain Gorgonne. It didn't look good for a Lieutenant to show up late for work twice in a week. She only hoped that her partner, Hal Owens, would cover her while she cleaned up.

"Don't you dare throw that out, Sally!" Screeched her father. "That is good money you're wasting!" Sally took a deep breath and satisfied herself with glaring at her father and imagining that his mouth was sewn shut. She deliberately bent down, scraped the white powder into two equal piles. Then she scooped one pile into the jar labeled "Arsenic", and the other into the sugar bowl. She stood up, quietly handed her father the arsenic jar, and slammed the sugar bowl on the table. Without another look at her father, she gathered up her coat and briefcase and said:

"I'll get more sugar on the way home," as a way of goodbye. She marched out of her and her father's dark little residence, straightening her back against the sound of her father's infuriated screaming.

When she was far enough away, she let out a little laugh. Sally was a type of person who smiled when she was sad, and laughed when she should be in tears. This odd little habit made for some very awkward encounters whenever her superiors at the police station scolded her. She clutched her worn leather briefcase against herself tightly, head bowed against the grim grayness of her neighborhood and the sharp bite of autumn wind.

She walked eight blocks from her home to the police station, hardly noticing how, as she went further north, the houses began to spread apart, making the world seem lighter and cleaner. By the time she got to the police station, the buildings, instead of being dirty and ramshackle, stood tall, proud, and pristine. She did not smell the wet scent of rotting leaves, or feel the crispness of the air. The jabbering of the crows perched on the telephone poles fell on deaf ears, and the brilliant sunrise fell on blind eyes. Sally's life was unpleasant and miserable. It did not appear as though it was about to change any time soon.

She had been born in the distant October Country, where she had lived with her father and mother until the age of six, when Mad Prince Maximillian unleashed a deadly virus in order to destroy "the enemies of the state". He had ended up with a mutagenic horror that killed four thousand. Sally's mother had died in the "Green Plague", and she and her father had escaped to the Lowlands, and eventually to that great metropolis, Halloween Town. Here, a horribly scarred girl was not considered odd, rather "in mode". It was also here that an intelligent doctor could not get a job, due to his limited ability to speak English. He, although not built for strenuous labor, worked in the Great Steel Factory for eleven years, until a horrible accident mangled his legs. With every passing year, the Doctor became more and more bitter, and very disillusioned with life in general.

Sally, on the other hand, had succeeded in ways her father never could. She had been put right to work in the Pentacle Shirtwaist Factory, from the age of seven. Her small deft hands replaced bobbins in the machines, until she was finally old enough to work at the sewing machines. But Sally had not been born for a life of labor. Somehow or other, when she was seventeen, she had gotten hired by the Halloween Town Police Department, first as a filing clerk, and then working her way up the ranks to becoming a fully fledged detective.

Her job's responsibilities were immense and full of complexities that she had never dreamed of as a girl. When she was a child, she had foolishly thought that the police's only job was to beat poor people up. No, now she knew after ten years in the force that there were higher-ups to impress, tests to take, law-suits to avoid, and Captains to listen to. Which was something she had to do right now, she reminded herself, as she ran up the long spindly stairs to the Captain's office, skirts swishing about her ankles.

Sally was out of breath by the time she reached Captain Gorgonne's office. She inhaled deeply, smoothed out the front of her jacket, and tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. She hesitantly opened the door, and winced when she saw the glare that Hal, her partner was giving her. He sat in front of the Captain's desk, arms crossed over his broad chest. Lateness did not reflect well on them.

"Ah," said Captain Gorgonne coolly, "Lieutenant Finklestein. How nice of you to join us. Take a seat," she said, gesturing at a worn looking chair with a perfectly manicured claw. Sally flushed deeply, and sat down, making the chair squeak. Gorgonne was an imposing woman, from the top of her snake covered head to the bottom of her talon tipped, scaly feet. "Despite contrary evidence, Lieutenant, the records have shown that your partnership with Owens here has proved most fruitful. You two possibly have the most successful busts in the last half century."

Hal and Sally looked questioningly at each other. "Thank you Captain," Hal said uncertainly. "It has been an honor and a privilege to work with Lieutenant Finklestein." The third eye in the middle of his head winked at Sally, letting her know that he wasn't mad at her. She flushed again, pleased that her partner had recognized her. Hal was a good partner, and an even better friend. Sally trusted him completely, and hearing his praise had made her happy beyond measure.

"I'm sure," said Captain Gorgonne smoothly. "That is why the board has made a decision that will affect both of your lives." Here she paused, and looked mournfully at the two of them. "You don't have to take this job if you don't want to, but it is highly recommended." Sally stared nervously at the Captain. What exactly was she getting at? Gorgonne's tone was cold, and a bit melancholy. She almost sounded like a priest saying last rites, or perhaps an executioner. "We have decided," she continued, "That you will be the ones who take down the Oogie Boogie Man." Sally felt a horrible swooping feeling in the pit of her stomach that she recognized as fear. Yes, she thought bitterly, Gorgonne did sound like an executioner. By giving them this mission, she was sending them to their deaths.