Chapter Six:

All at once he felt his heart jump into his throat. He was drained of all his energy, a feeling he had not experienced in quite some time. That was when he heard it. A scream followed by a thud. He caught a glimpse of Cassandra’s prone body sprawled upon his carpet, and suddenly that seemed like a good idea. He tried to sit, but couldn’t find the energy. Abruptly he felt his knees give and with an unceremonious thump he joined the human on the floor.

She, on the other hand, had never felt more wonderful in her life. She smelled gingerbread, cinnamon, and chocolate, and though she could not move she was not frightened or worried. She felt something press to her lips and instinctively opened her mouth just enough to take it in. She was pleasantly surprised by the feeling of liquid chocolate running down her throat.

‘I don’t know what’s in that happy drink, but I want more…’ she thought, dazedly. People were speaking. She could hear them. What they were saying, however, was not quite sinking in.

"…human…"

"…not good…"

"…may die…"

May die?! What?! Why?! What happened to her? Where was she? She tried to open her eyes, but it was as thought that part of her brain had been shut off. All she could do was lay there, still tasting the chocolate, and wondering what the hell had happened.

Bernard regained himself briefly, enough to see that Cassandra was being carried off by a group of his own elf-charges, while he was thrown into bondage. What on Earth was happening? Why were Judy and Quentin looking at him like that? Where was Cassandra being taken? He was about to voice his questions when that all-consuming weakness returned. He was sitting upright, held there by the 7,000 year old twins, Timmy and Tommy when it happened. His eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped where he sat. Unconscious again.

~ * ~

"Hello there, doll-face." stated a deep, overly-confident voice. Cassandra tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t. She didn’t have the strength. What the hell had Bernard done to her? "I didn’t know the elf-boy had a mistress."

"…am not…" she muttered, anger being the only discernible emotion she was feeling. "…was not a date…"

She heard laughter in response. Hands groped her body, removing things and putting new things on.

"Satin and lace…how lewd." Said the voice. Red burned her cheeks, but she could do nothing to stop them. What could she do? She didn’t have any strength!

"…bastard…" she muttered.

She drew her might against her eyelids, as that was all she could see, and tried to awaken. Why wouldn’t her body move? Why couldn’t she open her eyes? She growled deep in the base of her throat and flexed her fingers.

‘Wait! My fingers are moving!’ she thought, excitedly.

"…let…me…go…" she whimpered. It was an angry whimper, mind you, but it was still just a whimper.

Her anger seethed, face paled, and her hands chilled. Her hands were always cold when she got upset. She shivered involuntarily and imagined that she was somewhere else. She was not going to die that day. She was not going to let herself be lost in that horrible place, being gawked at by a creepy man-beast.

Her mind wandered far from her body, taking her physical form and transforming it into something else. She imagined that a pair of wings grew from her shoulder blades, and a radiant light in her eyes. She imagined that she was beautiful for centuries upon centuries, living only to grant the light to the silver-flecked children she’d grown to love.

She saw herself flying gracefully over a frozen world, sending many different colored sparks onto the ice and snow. She fancied herself a being of pure light, and the bringer of the Aurora Borealis. She’d written a story once about the Angel of the North, inspired after an ancient myth, and now she was endowing the magical properties of the entity in herself. She had to escape her comatose body, for Gods knew what horrors were being inflicted upon her. She could not even distinguish one sensation from another, now. Was she being spoken to? No, there was only laughter.

~ * ~

"What happened?" he gasped, leaning forward. Judy frowned and chewed her thumbnail. Her boss was chained against the far end of the wall, not more than a few yards from Curtis and Quentin. They were also bound against the stronghold that had once been Bernard’s office.

"Oogie Boogie has taken control of the North Pole." said Judy in a monotone voice. "We tried to stop them, but he somehow got the help of the trolls."

"The trolls? As in the trolls who mine the coal?" asked Bernard.

"Yes…" said Curtis. His face was pale and his eyes dull. He’d been changed, his spirit crushed, and only his dearest friend knew why. Judy had been the first to know his plight, and the first to offer him comfort, but nothing the young cocoa bringer could do or say made any difference to the Number Two Elf. He blamed himself for invasion. If he had been quicker, cleverer, or stronger none of that would have happened.

"Where’s Cassandra?" asked the Head Elf.

"Who?" was Quentin’s reply.

"Cassandra Monroe; the human who appeared with me." he said.

None of the younger elves spoke. The young woman who’d appeared with Bernard had been taken off to Oogie Boogie’s chamber before any of them could properly heal her. Elfin magic was tricky that way; one minute it could inflict pain, the next it could restore health.

"We’re not sure where she went." said Judy, though she was loathed to lie to her supervisor.

"Where is she?" demanded Bernard, eyes narrowing. He knew a falsehood when he heard it. "Judy, where is she?"

"Oogie Boogie took her." said Quentin. The raven haired, sable eyed elf felt his heart seize up and his breath catch in the back of his throat.

Oogie Boogie? The Boogie Man? Trolls? Had Cassandra truly been brought to the creature’s chambers? Had the trolls really revolted? Hadn’t Oogie Boogie been destroyed centuries ago? Hadn’t the old Pumpkin King, Jack Skelington, taken care of that horrible creature?

All of these questions brought his heart to a standstill. When had he lost control of his world? He looked down at the highly-polished chains and sighed. Gilded chains…how dreadfully cliché. Everything was out of control. He hated not being in control. He didn’t have the strength to fathom what had happened to Cassandra, nor did he know what would happen to any of his elf-friends.

~ * ~

Where was she now? She wanted to wake up. ‘Wake up body!’ she thought. ‘Get up! Move!’ She opened her eyes slowly, her lids lingering in a half-open sort of way, and she began focusing. The room had once been bright and cheery, but had been torn and changed quickly to look dark and dangerous. She wasn’t sure how she managed it, but somehow her body was moving, and her eyes were focusing. She looked at her fingers, seeing them bend when she wanted to bend them, and felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards.

She was aware of every cell in her body, which was not in the least an unpleasant sensation. She drank up her new found senses and thanked whatever deities that listened for granting her the strength to awaken. She’d been laid out on a bed of black satin, carved out of black wood. She saw her reflection in a mirror, one made of the self-same black wood her bed was made from and saw what about her had changed.

Her hair had been carefully wound and crimped until it fell half its length from the curl. A raven and scarlet dress, one with bell-sleeves and an uneven hem decorated her frame instead of her familiar apparel she’d come in. She trembled at the memory, and cracked her knuckles in preparation. She was going to make that man – whoever he was – pay dearly for humiliating her like that.

~ * ~

"What are we going to do?" Bernard murmured, rhetorically. He would have paced the full length of the room, chewing on his thumbnail and wearing a hole in the rich, beautiful carpet had he not been chained down. He was nervous, afraid, and beyond all of that angry. Angry that he had not been in the North Pole to stop Oogie from succeeding in his invasion.

"We need help." stated Quentin.

"No kidding." Said a new voice. All eyes fell upon a hazel eyed, chestnut haired girl; one with a dark tan, and a heart shaped face. Bernard’s eyes lit up, momentarily forgetting where he was, and focusing only on the girl before him. It was Francesca.

"Where’d you come from?!" he exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Ask Charlie, I just came along for the ride." Was her reply. Charlie stepped into view, showing off a toothless grin. Vanessa stood next to him, clutching his hand and looking terrified.

"You – uh – weren’t kidding when you said your dad was Santa, were you?" she murmured.

"Nope…" he murmured.

"Charlie, can you get us out of this?" asked Bernard, showing the polished, silver chains.

"No." said Charlie, looking ashamed. "But Francesca can."

"I pick locks." stated the middle Monroe sister, looking proud.

"Hey, Charlie, you said Cassy was here. I don’t see her." said Vanessa. Francesca was busy poking at the locks that bound the elves, using a hairpin and a pocket knife.

"We’re – uh – not sure exactly where she is." said Quentin. This earned him a poke from Francesca, who looked angry that he’d lied.

"The Boogie man took her." said Judy. She didn’t want to be prodded for lying after all.

"What do you mean; the Boogie Man?" demanded Vanessa. Charlie rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably and quickly explained the story of mythical beings. Of course, he was not clear on many of the details, but what he did not know Bernard explicated with a sort of condescending, irritated voice. He hated recounting history, especially to humans.

"So, there is a Boogie Man?" said Francesca, when Charlie’s story was finished.

"Yes." said Bernard. "And he’s taken over the North Pole." "S’cuse me a minute, I think I need to go faint." stated Vanessa, who promptly collapsed.

Well that was useful." said Francesca. "And what about Cassandra?! When do we circle the wagons and tend to the wounded? When do we call the cavalry and whatnot?"

"We have to form a plan first." said Bernard.

BOOM! "I think our little Cassandra has a plan already." said Francesca. "Blow stuff up."

"Somehow, I’m not surprised." murmured Bernard, rubbing his temples.

End of Chapter Six.


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