*Reader discretion is advised*.
James Charleston could always remember when he first became an animator for Walt Disney Animation Studios twenty years ago. He was a creative and ambitious twenty-eight-year-old with glossy black hair and a clean-shaven face. He was so excited to create something entertaining that kids of all ages could love. For the first few years, his ideas were listened to, produced for television and movies, and instantly adored, bringing an accomplished gleam to his hazel eyes. Then, as time went by, his ideas were gradually called too dated or were just ignored. Even when he tried to think out of the box, he was told that those ideas were too dark or too complex for cartoons. James thought that the Disney company was only interested in what was trendy; overly computerized cartoons and live-action reboots of Disney classics.
Now, he was a bitter, uninspired, cynical forty-eight-year-old man. His hair was graying, he rarely ever shaved, and his once fit body was now extremely bloated from his high intake of alcohol. He lived in a big apartment in Burbank, California with his five-year-old son, Sebastian.
One Sunday morning in June, Sebastian was happily watching Disney Junior in the living room, while James was drinking and "working" in his office. The boy was always watching anything Disney. His young mind thought that his daddy worked for Mickey Mouse, which made his daddy the coolest in his eyes and his hero. He was such a beautiful child with jet black hair, freckled-skinned, and the brightest green eyes. He was also so sweet and well-behaved but James never doted on the boy.
Sebastian was the product of an one-night stand but the young mother wanted something more. She claimed to be in love with James and actually wanted to marry him. Because James worked for Disney and to be cute, she even named their son after the crab from the Little Mermaid. After a few months that Sebastian was born though, she realized that James didn't want a relationship with her and she selfishly abandoned their baby. Since she had no other living family, the court gave James sole custody of his son. At the time, James thought that no child should grow up in the foster care system and he was happy to raise him, but now, his hatred towards his work and life in general had taken over and now he wished that he could just give the boy away. Even though he kept the boy healthy and safe, James had no real love for his own son.
James just opened another beer, when the theme song for the cartoon, PJ Masks, came on in the living room.
"Not that one," groaned James, "One of Disney's many ear-worms. God, Disney has really gone down the crapper!"
"God has nothing to do with this," said a deep, unknown voice behind him, "though knowing him, he would love that mind-numbing garbage."
James turned around and saw a tall, skinny man with ghost-like skin, wearing all red; a crimson tuxedo with blood-red shoes, and a red top-hat over fiery ginger hair. The strange man also had eerie black eyes. Even the part of the eye that was supposed to be white was black. The man held a dark brown cane with an up-down cross as the handle, as he was giving James an evil smile.
"But you humans always find interesting but yet irritating ways to entertain your brats all on your own," the man smirked.
"Who are you and how did you get in my damn house?!" asked James drunkenly. He was too drunk to be scared yet.
"Beelzebub, Lucifer, Satan, the Beast, the Devil," said the man nonchalantly, "just pick a name. I have many. Your hatred in you invited me here. Your hatred always had called out to me but it was practically screaming today. It was so loud that I couldn't even enjoy my daily depravity."
James thought that he had to be imagining things. "Is the man walking in the air?" he thought.
He blamed it on the ten beers that he had that morning.
"If you're the devil," said James sarcastically, "possess me or do a trick...prove it."
The Devil then became dangerously furious, crushing his cane into pieces with his bare hands. Within seconds, the Devil grew fifty-times taller, nearly filling the room and touching the ceiling. Tossing his hat away, his pointy, long horns poked out on the top of his head. The door slammed shut on its own.
He grabbed James by the shirt and pulled him up to his face.
"IS THIS ENOUGH PROOF FOR YOU," he roared, "OR SHOULD I JUST RIP YOUR PATHETIC SOUL FROM BODY?! I'M HERE TO MAKE YOU, A POOR EXCUSE OF A MAN, AN OFFER. I DON'T DO PARLOR TRICKS. I'M THE RULER OF HELL AND YOU WILL RESPECT ME AS SO, SCUM!"
Then, the Devil threw him in a chair.
"I'm s-s-s-sorry," stammered James, absolute terror quickly sobering him up,"W-w-what are y-y-you offering? D-d-do you w-w-want m-m-my s-s-soul?"
"Oh relax," chuckled the Devil, shrinking back into a human again and putting back on his top hat, "I want souls that are much younger than yours and you're going to help me."
"How?"
"With this," said the Devil, holding out a magnificent looking, golden pencil.
"It's just a pencil," said James, perplexed.
"But this pencil is powerful," the devil smiled, "It will make anything dark and twisted; even warp those old, annoying, sugar-coated Disney characters into something more sinister."
James didn't think that the classic Disney characters were annoying but he thought that it would be refreshing to do something new with them.
"How would that you help collect young souls though?"
The Devil chuckled and said: "It'll be so easy. All children watch that Disney stuff, right?"
James nodded.
"Kiddies act all afraid of anything creepy or bizarre," the Devil said sardonically, "and cry to their mommys and daddys to protect them but it's all a lie. I know that kiddies nowadays secretly want to be scared. They want the thrill. They want the strangeness and danger of it all. They're supposed to be terrified of some kind of a boogie man but little do the parents know that their brats are seeking out monsters for fun, so why not give them what they want?"
Then, the Devil's voice went down to a whisper and said: "Once the brats see their favorite characters spiced up with darkness, you'll be like the Pied Piper, luring them to me. They'll follow blindly. Plus, you'll be incredibly famous."
"Famous," James repeated to himself in awe, greed taking over. He didn't care about all of the innocent souls that were going to be taken. He was only thinking about himself.
"What's the catch?" he asked.
"Ah, scum with brains," remarked the Devil, "To get this pencil, you just have to sign a contract, promising to produce thirteen children's souls to me on Halloween night exactly at midnight. You also promise that if you fail, I can take your soul. It's not the soul that I want but I can take it just as punishment."
Twisting his wrist, the Devil made the contract appear on the desk behind a puff of red smoke.
Even though James was eager to sign it, fear made him hesitant for a second.
"You're the father of lies," he said, "How can I trust you?"
"Because I really want those young souls," the Devil replied with a wide smile, "and to make this deal even sweeter, I'll talk to the Disney execs and make sure that your new cartoons get on T.V. or in movie theaters right away. Those execs always do whatever I say. They sold their souls to me long time ago. Come on, I'm handing you great fame, take it."
"But why do you want children's souls so bad," James asked, "Do you enough souls to take already?"
"It's best if you didn't know all of my reasons. You, humans, are amusingly queasy about these things. Let's just say, I want more godly respect and the brats can learn fast."
James was still afraid but greed urged him to do it. He was tired of drawing and animating the same type of characters and of his ideas not being heard. He thought that he deserved this.
"Let me get a pen," he said, reaching in a drawer.
"No, no," laughed the Devil, "for this contract, you have to sign with the blood of a relative."
To James' dismay, his family were already dead or lived out of the state.
"But who can I...?"
The door opened wide on its own, showing Sebastian still watching television.
"If you kill your son," the Devil whispered into his ear, "I can take his soul and I'll consider that to be the first soul that you produce for me. Then, you only have to get me twelve souls."
A loving parent wouldn't have even consider it, a decent human being would have felt extreme guilt for even thinking about harming a child but James was too far gone. He looked down at his hand and he was suddenly holding a butcher knife.
"It'll be quick," the Devil told him softly, sounding seductive, "He won't suffer long. Besides, you don't love the boy and I think that he deserves better. He'll be happier in death...with me."
James walked quietly into the living room and crept behind his son. As Sebastian bounced excitedly on the couch at his favorite part of the cartoon, he felt the weight of his dad's arms on his little shoulders.
"Hi Daddy," he giggled, "What are you---?"
Before Sebastian could realize what was happening, James swiped the blade across his throat. Blood splattered everywhere with one cut. Holding his spewing throat wound, Sebastian somehow managed to stand up and stagger around to look at his dad. His innocent face was a mixture of complete horror, pain, sadness, and confusion; his pleading eyes overflowing with tears. He was making a horrible choking, gargling sound, as blood squirted from his mouth and sliced throat. He desperately reached out for his dad but James just backed away like a coward. Then, Sebastian finally fell on his stomach, dead in a pool of blood. Using his powers, the Devil trapped Sebastian's soul in his dead body so it couldn't escape before the deal was done.
James quickly tossed the knife and went back to the office to get a small paintbrush and the contract.
He then went into the living room again and carefully dipped the brush into Sebastian's blood, signing the contract. After the contract was signed and disappeared in flames, the Devil gave him the golden pencil. The Devil let out a satisfied cackle, as he flipped Sebastian onto his back and reached into his body like it was a stick of butter, pulling out the boy's transparent looking soul.
Sebastian's soul/spirit was fearfully wailing and struggling to get away, while the Devil held on tightly. James was too interested in the power of the pencil though to notice or care. Like an eager child, he already got some paper and was ready to draw. The Devil then whistled for his minions to come and get Sebastian. His minions were tiny, legless demons that wore long, black robes and didn't have faces, only having two red dots for eyes. The minions came up from the ground and grabbed Sebastian by the arms and ankles.
As they dragged him down into Hell, he was thrashing around, trying to fight back. He tried kicking, punching, scratching but it was no use. Because he was now only a spirit, his hand or foot would go through them every time.
He helplessly cried out: "Help me Daddy...please! Why aren't you helping me?! The monsters are taking me away! Daddy please!!"
He was screaming the whole time, looking at his dad with heartbreak and desperation. He was always told that his daddy would love and protect him but now, the man didn't attempt to save him. James didn't even look up. He was staring at the blank paper and holding the pencil, almost looking as though he was in a trace.
"Are you going to draw something or not?" teased the Devil.
James asked, "How does the pencil make what I draw dark?"
"Just think of what you want to draw, put the pencil to paper, and the pencil itself will draw it for you."
James took a deep breath and said: "I want to draw Mickey Mouse."
Then, as the lead of the pencil touched the paper, it began to move on its own. Some of the outline of Mickey was the same but some of his features were very different. He seemed much taller and he had more of a longer snout. He had eyebrows that scowled down angrily into a V shape. Instead of his cheerful smile, his smile was full of malicious and jagged teeth. He also menacingly held a dagger in his gloved hand.
At first, James didn't like Mickey's eyes, which were only black holes. He then realized that the pencil could put in color in the drawing as well. In the middle of each eye hole, the pencil put one orange-yellow, upside-down teardrop-shaped mark that looked like a flickering candle flame. James thought that it was strange but he liked it. Mickey was, of course, wearing his red shorts with silver buttons and yellow shoes. The pencil then put blood on the silver blade of the dagger and speckled blood on both of Mickey's white gloves.
When the pencil finally stopped moving, James picked up the paper and looked at the drawing of this new, unsettling Mickey. He had always loved Mickey just as he was but now, he thought that this gave Mickey some much-needed edge. James loved it.
"That's better," grinned the Devil, "The brats won't be able to resist!"
"They sure won't," replied James.
"Oh before I go," said the Devil, snapping his fingers, "you might need this." A big jar of ashes appeared on the living room table.
"What's that for?" asked James.
"I'll show you." The Devil then opened the jar and scooped up a hand-full of ashes.
"These ashes are from Hell," he explained, "substance of absolute sin and evil." He sprinkled the ashes on the drawing over Mickey's head.
"Hey, don't---," James began.
Then, the paper began to shake in James' hand and he jumped back, throwing the paper across the room. From afar, he saw the drawing gradually enlarging on the paper until it spread across the entire piece of paper. The paper then exploded into pieces with a thunderous boom. James took cover behind the couch, while the Devil chuckled.
As pieces of paper rained down, there stood a huge, hellish looking Mickey Mouse with real, black fur, bright flames in the eye holes, and a monstrous grin; slashing his dagger in the air. James was horrified by the thing and didn't know if he should go near it.
"I've noticed that those Disney parks have mascots of the brats' favorite characters," said the Devil, "so when your cartoons gain popularity, these are mascots that you can control. They'll help you get souls."
James carefully stood up and asked fretfully: "Is there an actual person in that mascot suit?"
"No, it's not a suit at all. With the ashes, anything that you draw with that pencil will become real. The characters will become demons in disguise."
James cautiously walked closer to the wicked Mickey and he automatically smelled the nauseating odor of rotting death, which made him gag.
"You can easily get rid of the smell with any cologne," the Devil told him, "but do you have a container of iodized salt?"
"Salt? Why?"
"Salt is how you will control them," explained the Devil.
"How?"
"Get some salt," the Devil replied with a grin, "and you'll see."
James ran into the kitchen and got the container of iodized salt from the cabinet. Once the container was in his hand, the Devil whispered to the demonic Mickey: "Give him a scare." Then, the Devil abruptly disappeared when James wasn't looking. The evil Mickey began growling and was charging at James with a dagger in hand, breaking any piece of furniture that was in its way.
"Wait," exclaimed James, "What do I do with the salt?!"
Not knowing what to do, he just stood there, holding out the container of salt. The evil Mickey suddenly froze and stared at the container as if it was scared of salt. Seeing this, James opened the container and quickly tossed salt in Mickey's face. The corrupted Mickey let out a horrendous, raspy howl and backed away, as its skin burned and sizzled. Its long snout and round ears automatically melted off with a thud. Then, its whole face began to slowly liquefy, looking like someone got the ink of a drawing wet and the colors were smearing together.
Still screaming, the rest of its body continued to meltdown and its vile smell filled the place. James watched with horror and awe. He expected a puddle to be on the floor in the spot where it was melting, but when it was gone, the piece of paper with his drawing of Mickey Mouse had reappeared there. James picked it up, staring at it with amazement.
"Wow," he breathed.
The Devil's laughter then echoed loudly throughout the apartment and Sebastian's body, the knife, the smell, and the blood spatter disappeared. Even the bloodstains on James' clothes were gone. It was as though nothing had happened. His sick mind was relieved that he didn't have to take care of a child anymore. He decided that if anyone asked about where his son was, he would just say that his mother took Sebastian back and with that, he didn't even give the poor boy another thought.
"I have better things to do now," he thought with a grin.
For the rest of the day and the entire night, he drew and wrote a whole cartoon short. The pencil wouldn't let him stop. Every time that he would try to put it down, the pencil would let out a horrifying, earsplitting shriek. The Devil didn't mention that this would happen of course, but it was worth it. The next day, being freshly shaved, he took all of his drawings to the studio and met with the animators and executives. He didn't any sleep but felt exhilarated. He was also sober for the first time in years and he was clear-minded to enjoy it.
The moment that the Disney executives saw his drawings, they immediately got excited, mostly because of the Devil's persuasion, but they gave the studio the green light to make the short. The executives made him head-animator on this project as well. The short was going to be part of a three-hour block on Disney XD called Twisted Wednesday. Twisted Wednesday was going to be three hours of creepy cartoons, aimed at kids over seven and teens. The concept was that everything that they knew about Disney was going to be twisted into something strange, creepy, and freaky. The idea seemed random and would've been perfect for Halloween but Disney wanted it to start that summer.
The script and art were quickly finalized, despite complaints from some of his colleagues. The short being animated within weeks, James insisted on being in charge of voice casting too. This battled people but they didn't say no. Behind a locked recording studio, he used the Hell ashes to make his drawings come alive and he recorded their voices.
Two weeks later, Twisted Wednesday and James' animated short, which was called "No Strings to Hold Me Down" premiered nationwide at six P.M.
"No Strings to Hold Me Down" was about twelve-year-old Lee and his controlling, beefy, bully-of-a-father, Gregory. Lee, a small but slender boy, who loved singing and dancing, wanted to try out for the school play instead of the football team but his father, who was the football coach at Lee's school, shouted: "No son of mine will be a wuss and make a fool of myself or me on stage!"
"But Dad...," tried Lee.
Lee's mother, Janette, a submissive, skittish woman, said nervously: "M-m-m-maybe he can t-t-try out for both. He does love p-p-performing."
Gregory got in his wife's face and screamed: "I SAID NO! THIS IS MY HOUSE AND...!"
Lee ran out of the house crying before he could hear the rest. He just wished that his father accepted him. He walked to the park and sat on the swing. Suddenly emerging from the shadows, an evil Mickey Mouse, Goofy, and Donald Duck walked towards him. They were the same size as him.
Goofy was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog and was smiling hard with vampiric teeth. His right eye also kept twitching and he let a creepy, hysterical, little giggle out after every word. Donald wore a tattered, blackened sailor outfit. He had red, shifty eyes and a beak that was longer than usual. He looked accusingly and predator-like at anyone that passed by him. Lee didn't notice the changes in the Disney characters.
"Oh hi Mickey," said Lee sadly.
"What's wrong pal," asked Mickey in a high-pitched but scratchy and demonic voice, "Was your dad yelling again?"
Lee told them the whole story. As he spoke and as the frame zoomed in closer on Mickey's face for a minute, the flames in Mickey's eyes burned brighter and brighter with anger and revenge.
"Ahhh, what a jerk," spat Donald when Lee was done speaking.
"Yeah, you love singing," laughed Goofy.
"We have to do something," said Mickey ominously.
Then, the three of them gathered in a circle, whispering to each other for a few minutes. After they came to an agreement, Mickey said to Lee: "Tell your dad to come to our house. We have a surprise for him."
'Their house' was actually the Disney World theme park, home of all Disney characters.
Not understanding, Lee asked: "Why?"
"Don't worry," grinned Mickey with a wink, "we'll take care of him."
Lee then smiled knowingly.
The next day, Lee and his father came to Disney World. Lee had lied and told him that he wanted to say sorry for making him mad, that he and his Disney friends had a surprise for him. Even though Gregory was a tough, cruel man, he had a soft spot for Disney, especially for the movie, Pinocchio. Mickey met them at the entrance. The theme park seemed quiet and oddly half-empty.
"Hi my pals," said Mickey with fake enthusiasm, "Are you ready to be the first ones to get on the new Pinocchio ride?"
Gregory's eyes brightened and exclaimed: "Is that my surprise?"
"Yeah," smiled Mickey.
"Well Son, you're forgiven," Gregory told Lee, "Let's do this!"
"Yes," grinned Mickey diabolically, staring at the television viewers, "Let's."
Mickey then led them into Fantasyland, to a wooden train ride called No Strings Attached. Oswald the Lucky Rabbit was waiting for them by the ride. Like always, he had bendy, stretchy, and fluid body parts. In video games and other cartoons, Oswald was usually cheerful. However, in this cartoon, his mouth was disturbingly sewn shut with black thread into a wide, crude smile, and there was hidden rage in his beady eyes. Again, no one in this cartoon noticed and/or acknowledged these changes. When he saw Gregory, he stretched his long ears out and wrapped them tightly around Gregory's wrists and dragged him to the ride.
"Whoa buddy," Gregory exclaimed with a chuckle, "take it easy now!"
"He's just excited for you to have fun," lied Mickey.
Lee just smiled.
Lee and Gregory sat on the ride. Using his ears and hands, Oswald put the seat-belts on them. While he was putting the safety bars in place too, he slammed one of them into Gregory's gut. Gregory grunted unhappily but smiled. The train car rolled into a tunnel, slowly passing moving scenes of Pinocchio. What looked like animatronic characters were popping out, as the song, "I've Got No Strings" played in the background but something was off about these characters. This was the only time that someone was aware that something was different.
Stromboli's and Geppetto's skin was gray and their eyes were yellow and dead-looking. Pinocchio's blue eyes were bulging out of his head like a maniac and he had a furious scowl on his face. All three were also monstrous in size.
Gregory asked Lee: "Is this a jump-scare ride?"
Lee just sat there silently.
Then, the train car abruptly stopped in front of an old-fashioned wooden stage with red curtains. Stromboli, Geppetto, and Pinocchio started to walk towards them.
"Wow," exclaimed Gregory, still thinking that it was just part of the ride, "this technology is amazing!"
The three characters came closer to him and without warning, they undid his seat-belt and the safety bar.
"Hey," he yelled, "isn't that dangerous?!"
Pinocchio then grabbed by the throat and pulled him out of the cart. This was when he realized with horror that these weren't animatronics. They were alive.
"Help," he chocked.
Pinocchio threw him hard on the ground and while he was coughing and heaving, he tried to crawl back to the train car but Geppetto stopped him and flipped him on his back, sitting on him. He tried fighting back, swinging punches and biting but it was no use.
"Help me Son," he begged Lee.
Lee just sat back and watched. Oswald then walked in.
"Help...me...Oswald," Gregory pleaded breathlessly, "please."
Oswald ignored him. Like an octopus playing with its prey, Oswald wrapped his ears around Gregory's wrists then his arms around Gregory's ankles, stretching and stretching until Gregory's clothes ripped and his arm and leg joints broke with a loud, sickening POP. Gregory screamed in tremendous pain and terror. Geppetto got off of his broken body and Pinocchio got a dagger from behind the stage, slashing Gregory's hands and in a 3D-like moment, blood splashed at the television viewers. Blood continued to gush out all over, as the characters cackled. All that Gregory could do was scream and tremble. All those years in football couldn't help him now.
Stromboli then put a needle and thread in each of Gregory's hand gashes. The pain was torturous and he almost passed out a few times but they used smelling salts to wake him up. Stromboli stitched up the wounds but left thick threads in Gregory's hands. Oswald let go of him. They carried him onto the stage and with robes and the threads in his hands, they strung him up, putting him in a standing position.
Then, Mickey, Goofy, and Donald walked in. Mickey smiled at Gregory and hopped in the train car with Lee, asking: "Feel better pal?"
Lee nodded yes and grinned.
"So what song are you doing for your audition?" laughed Goofy.
"I think that I'll sing 'I've Got No Strings'," replied Lee.
"Perfect," exclaimed Stromboli joyfully with an Italian accent, "why don't you practice right now? Our new puppet can dance for us." He was referring to Gregory.
Oswald clapped vigorously in agreement.
"Okay," said Lee happily.
He starting singing. Oswald stretched his ears, pulling the threads and making Gregory dance. Each step was extreme agony. Gregory was crying, screeching, and desperately imploring for them to stop but no one heard because everybody began to sing with Lee. Gregory's pleas were muffled over their loud voices.
"I've got no strings
To hold me down
To make me fret
Or make me frown
I had strings
But now I'm free
There are no strings on me!"
After the cartoon aired, some kids were traumatized by it and had nightmares for months, but a lot of kids were fascinated by the eerie and macabre cartoon. It was a hit. Billions of kids and teens watched it on television or streamed it online. #TwistedWednesday was trending all night on Twitter. They kept talking about it, sharing clips and memes of it. Some parents were outraged, demanding Disney not to air the cartoon again and to stop Twisted Wednesday altogether. They said that it was too violent and gory but Disney didn't listen. Most people at Disney were secretly talking orders from the Devil and they saw a great money-making opportunity as well. Despite the minor backlash, they had James make a second cartoon.
It was called "Elsa's Makeover." Mickey and Elsa were in her ice castle. Elsa was complaining to Mickey how she wished that the men in her kingdom didn't fawn over her, that people didn't focus on her beauty. She wanted people to admire her intelligence and leadership.
"Hold on," said Mickey.
He walked in another room for a second. When he came back, he was wearing his Sorcerer's Apprentice outfit. Normally, the outfit was a red robe and a blue, pointed hat with white moons and stars, but in this cartoon, he wore a midnight black robe and a black, pointed hat with a big, silver inverted pentagram in front of it.
He then began singing "Let It Go" in his demonic voice. Each time that he said the words: let it go, he thrust his hands in front of himself, casting an ice spell on Elsa. At first, when the ice spell hit her, she just smiled and said: "The cold doesn't bother me."
By the third time, she gasped in slight pain and almost fell back when it hit her.
"Alright, that's enough Mickey," she said with a forced laugh.
He didn't listen. By the fourth time, she began to shiver.
"Stop...now!"
By the fifth and sixth time, she was shivering violently, having trouble keeping her balance.
"Please stop Mickey," she cried, "I can't feel my body...too cold!"
When she tried to move her fingers, her now frozen, left hand cracked and fell off. She screamed in complete terror and shock. Her severed, frozen hand then bounced down a staircase and shattered into pieces. She began sobbing and trembling uncontrollably. By the end of the song, she was shaking on the floor; cold, broken, and frostbitten. Her skin was bluish-gray with icicles dangling from her face and whole body.
"Well, Elsa, it looks like the cold does bother you after all," sneered Mickey, "but at least people won't focus on your beauty for a while."
Then, the cartoon ended with his sinister laughter echoing throughout the castle.
After that cartoon aired, more parents were livid. Even church groups got involved this time. The parents said that it wasn't at all appropriate for children and the church groups said that the cartoons were sacrilegious but their protests and rants were disregarded. The kids were hooked. James kept making more cartoons and Twisted Wednesday rapidly became bigger and bigger. The fans of the cartoons even made up a name for the universe that the evil counterparts lived in; Disney Other World. To the the fans, it was a hidden realm of Disney.
By August, there was merchandise, a web site, and graphic novels. Then Disney stopped doing Twisted Wednesday so that they could start a Disney Other World channel. It was a whole station dedicated to the evil counterparts and James was the executive producer, director, and head-animator of all of the cartoons. Disney Studios said that this channel was only for ages thirteen and up but that didn't stop younger viewers from watching.
Soon, James was doing meet-and-greets at Disney parks and comic book stores as well. After some meet-and-greets, he had the demons kill some fans and take their souls for the Devil. Their disappearances were never connected to James because he always waited until the meet-and-greets were over for a couple of hours before taking a fan and the demons always dismembered the dead bodies and ate them.
James also lost weight but too much weight. The more the cartoons got popular, the more the pencil shrieked. The pencil barely let him eat or drink and definitely didn't let him sleep throughout the night. He always had to be drawing no matter what. He was so thin and tired looking that he looked skeletal and ghoulish but the Devil ordered people who were under his control, just to look the other way and not to say anything to James. Even though James was collecting souls for him, the Devil just wanted to see him suffer.
Despite his ghastly appearance, James was famous, successful, and had an assistant that worshipped the feet that he walked on. Her name was Justine and was a homely thirty-year-old woman. She didn't seem to care how she presented herself at work. Her brunette hair was always up in a messy ponytail and she always wore eccentric, old-fashioned, school marm-like dresses but James liked her for stroking his ego. She was bubbly, eager to please, and took everything that James said as gospel.
One day before October, Justine burst in his office and said excitedly: "Mr. Charleston, do you remember the event that you wanted to have at Disney World on Halloween?"
To be continued...
(c)Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2019
Video by: Horror Versions
Author Notes: Just for the record, I love Disney! I loved Disney movies as a kid and still love them as an adult. I think that it's cool when Disney tries to go dark and I just took it to the next level. I got the idea for this story from a weird and eerie dream. What if Mickey Mouse was made evil?
Also, this story will be in 2 parts (part 1 is now and part 2 will be sometime next month). Both are Halloween themed but hey, Halloween is 365 days for me. Lol!
Disclaimer: The original Disney characters used in this story are owned by Walt Disney and the Walt Disney Company.
Happy Halloween! Think Tink and smooches!!
