xiah
She should almost be expecting it when she wakes up – and in a faraway sense, she is expecting it; who doesn’t obsess about Christmas anyways? Not that her last venture into the human world had been anything silver and gold. In fact, they had been exactly the opposite, rather blood red and death black in her opinion. Instead of waking up to the decision of which door and who do you kill, however, Xiah comes to in a comfortable, queen-sized bed, sheets tangled about her ankles (she’s always preferred the coolness). The eve is of Christmas, and all is well. The wind has whispered, the moon has shined; the structure has whimpered, and the children have whined.
Inhaling deeply, the petite black woman extends her lithe arms and points each and every toe until it seems the vertebrae of her spine may very well dislocate. She shouldn’t really be waking up considering the busy morning set out before her, but what can you do. Rolling on to her stomach was a heavy exhale and a sleepy moan, her appendages hide in her stomach as she curls into her very tightest ball.
Thump.
Up in a flash, Xiah becomes suddenly aware of her surroundings. The shock of the human world hits her as hard as a frying pan used in self defense, but at least it’s not all terribly new and frightening. She distinctly remembers having fingers, straight-facing eyes, and two legs instead of four. She also remembers the brutality, the carnage, and the end result of her little shoulder demon.
(…)
He's gone.
The girl does a silent jig on the red cork floor, careful not to bounce too high (the children are sleeping after all). No more sarcasm, jibs or jokes; no more demon, nor his fires and smokes. Her happiness wanes quickly, however; worse things are to be had than sarcastic shoulder-demons, and when the distinct sound of cackling infiltrates the peace of her very own house, she tosses out the idea that everything is okay.
Flitting to the door of her room and opening it wildly, a moan sounds from behind her. Glancing over her shoulder just as she turns the corner, Xiah glimpses another human being in her bed. I’ll deal with that later. Continuing forward, the woman tucks a flyaway hair behind her ear, the other hand smoothing the cheesy red pajamas she wears every year. Yuck.
Withdrawing the drapes in a too-smooth motion, Xiah shrieks at what her eyes behold. An ugly green fellow, eyes all aglow, climbing her wall-side, melting the snow. Reeling backwards as the monster throws his head back to laugh, Xiah’s hands clutch at her marble kitchen counter, heart racing. Why the fuck is The Grinch stealing MY Christmas.
Grey eyes snapping to the stocking-hung fireplace, Xiah curses aloud at the rattling emanating from the small space. Yelling wordlessly and at the top of her well-bred lungs, Xiah attempts to summon whatever human being had lain in her bed without expressly revealing that she knew absolutely nothing about her supposed family. Scrambling around the marble island as she does so, her hands fly to every cupboard until the whole kitchen seems torn apart by reindeer demons.
As her fingers close firmly around the handle of a stone rolling pin, two things happen: a slightly larger version of herself appears at the top of the staircase, and two reindeer-demons tumble on to her stainless white carpet, muddling the whole thing.
”JUDE!” She cries at the stair-born figure, nearly subdued. “What are you doing here!” She screams again with a newfound attitude. Gasping in abhorrence as a gremlin snatches up a hand-wrapped present, Xiah vaults over the counter and beats it on the head with her rolling pin. Surprisingly resistant, the little demon cackles and spirits away, gift held tightly in grubby paws.
Turning to confront the next demon, she finds a horde of Christmas-ruiners destroying all her handiwork. Clutching both handles of her weapon, Xiah swears at the demons before retreating to the stair-top.
“Please tell me you know what to do,”
“Well the kids are sleeping, and you should be too.”
“The Grinch is on our roof, I can’t fucking sleep.”
“Then let’s get down to business; it should be pretty sweet.”
“Shut up Jude. I hate humankind.”
“Oh c’mon, I’m a pretty great find.”
And, with that, the two set out,
One with a weapon, the other without.
You won't have any friends, and I'll live in a room
With flowers on the walls, and golden doorknobs