Her neck craned to rest on Fennicks shoulder, just as his rested on hers. Eona smashed between the two of them; Hestia's belly took up most of the space. It was the first time she truly had a family, first time that she had created a family. Its with a joyful heart that this Christmas, she will know, who she wakes too… Will she? Who could tell what the Elves had in mind for her this Christmas. Who would know what the woodland nymphs decide to coax from her head this night.
She drifted to sleep, listened to the soft breathes of the loved ones around her. The crickets hummed to one another, the birds rustling in a fitful manner. It was peaceful to listen to, it was home to know. Into a world of fairy induced dreams she fell. It wasn't through her own eyes that she existed though.
Its a kick, then a thrust that pushed her belly to bursting. He could feel the solid earth on the other side of the swollen membrane. The world contracted around him, suffocating him inside his home. Pop, crack, slip, and slide, it's all it took for the creature to begin the fight. Pushed and shoved, its one thing after another. He was poked, then squeezed, between pop, and push he managed to catch a breath. Tender bones began to be bruised once more.
It was silent, a silence that only proceeds the most vile of things. The world no longer pulsed and hummed a red hew around him. It had taken a new shape, a colder place, a quieter aura. He was born, the new creation exhausted and cold. Lashes drift blurring his vision. He was left disoriented from what had been several hours of transformation. Loving kisses dried his hide. A delicate whisper Kryten hung on the air. Filling a new void that he didn't know had existed.
Stars lost their luster, a sea of dim lights drifted in and out. They drew closer, then distanced, they flickered with the pulse of his consciousness. He turned his nose to the nutrition of his mother. The small family curled around one another drifting away from this world into another.
A jolt woke him from the seemlessness of dreamless slumber. The border of dreams, and fairies; to the cold reality. The boy groaned before flopping from one side to another. Dark blue cotton swallowed him in warmth, nose nuzzled deep into the pillowed cushion of his moth....
It's a blink, a scrape, a click, then a rustle. Something wasn't right, not in this world, not on this night. Merry ol' Saint Nick was supposed to arrive. Giggles rose in his throat, mischief bubbled in his chest. The appearance of the jolly red man in his mind caused a forgetfulness that can only occur in children. No longer did the cold hands of fear prickle up his spine, nor did the hairs rise on his arm. The world sparkled bright with the light of the moon through the gauzy curtains. Eyrie twilight streamed through the panes, hallowing his sister in her cherubs' dreams.
Toes wiggled in soft fluffy socks, arms shivered from lack of a pajamas top. It took his foggy brain a moment to recover, fingers curled and extended. They played with the cold light, the dust floated around him. Rays carresed his skin, bright as the sun, they bathed the world in a blue haze. Dust settled and danced, kissing the midnight skin that stretched taunt over delicate hands. A hand made for art, not that of a workman; they reached to snag his sister from her angelic trance.
Its only a moment, not a moment to soon, that the cackle of evil disturbed the joy of that silent night. This was a strange site, much less a strange idea to occur his first night of life. Sister... sister... he tried to wake her, fear clutched at his heart. The graceful arch of a neck swiveled around from the child, to the window, to the creamy wall nearby. Shadows loomed there against the sea washed surface; they danced to the candle light. For a better view, he sat up, mouth agape. Hands trembled, crumpling his sisters night cap.
It was quite disturbing to say the least, the walls that he grew up gazing at. The walls that had kept this sort of evil out of his life. Now it was used to create his worst fear. The shadows contorted with the breeze that slipped through the vanilla gauze, almost blowing out the only luminosity in the room. The boy puffed out his chest, flexed his new arms and stood on shaky legs. The cackling gremlins loomed large on the walls. They caged him in, narled fingers curling for his sister. He could make one of them out trailing across her face carressing it in sick desire.
His sister was not waking, he needed to be brave for her. He needed to protect her from what ever was out there ready to destroy his new world. Eona! the scream erupted cutting through the night. Filmy silk floated around him. A thud resounded as the wooden pole crashed to the carpet. Tangled in gauze, frozen in fear. The big hazel eyes looked on in twilight. Figures danced on the white blanket of a magical Christmas Eve. They turned it brown, created a sploosh out of the crunch. It lost its sparkle, and destroyed its blinding blue aura. Now it was a mud bath with no life left there.
"When what to your wandering eye did appear" Small green things with enormous ears. Ugly wrinkles, cringled in delight, and was that? No way… he rubbed his eyes, this couldn't be real. There appeared to be antlers atop their heads. 'Twas the nightmare of Christmas... They cackle and hum. One after another slowly turned their gaze upon him. His hands slick with sweat, a sheen glittered on his body. You could almost say he looked godly standing there, petrified with fear. Gauze wrapped in his hands, draped itself unceremoniously across his chest. If not for the mere child size of him, you may indeed have felt the fear.
His eyes fluttered. The first movement his gaze met with the furry monstrosity. The boy finds a sick smile, and ugly wrinkles that greet him. The monster rose in the light of the full moon, casting a shadow across his window. A glowing green haze illuminated the boys face, it was right there climbing his sill. The green pupilless eyes looking up to the roof. He backed away from the window his hands groping for some sort of support. He was met with the floor, the thud of his body turned the angry gaze towards him. It stretched then pursed the mouth forming words, a chant, a chuckle. A sick melody I am the Grinch, its with a joyful heart I take all you hold dear The thing had talked to him, before it began traversing further up to grapple for the roof.
With a swish and a sizzle the candle is blown out, shadows creep away from the window, yawning to swallow the cherub girl. The putrid smell of the Demon breath choked him, burned into his lungs with a venom to squeeze tears from the boys eyes. But on that floor silent as a mouse, he found he could not move, not make a sound.
Alarm raced through him after the Grinch disapeared, in turn it gave him the drive to move. Dad! Mom! His voice reeled, hoping desperately that someone would wake. With the drooping doll in his arms, the boy dashed out of the room. Thumps on the roof, cackles downstairs. His jaw locked once more gazing at his beloved sister; her rosebud lips parted with a fairies dream. Peachs and cream, her skin kissed with the love of family. He would not allow her to wake to this, it only took a moment, a glimpse to the closet. His sister would have to stay there. Click the door shut, scuffle, he was on his way.
It was time to face the monsters, was time to save what he could. No longer worried that the creatures would find his sister. He stripped off the dripping curtains and bed sheets that clung to him in the hustle and bustle of his abrupt awakening. He tightened his red flannel pants with the draw string. They no longer slung low on his bony hips.
From the walls of the hallway, down the stairs, fingers brushing the wooden rail; he slipped closer to the ruckus. Peering through the railing he crouched on the stairs, they took such joy in shredding the tree. The demons cackled and howled Twas the nightmare of Christmas; when all through the house children found nothing not even a louse;" they leapt, they fought, they swallowed the food. Muddy footprints left in the rooms.
Its a creak, then a moan, a step, a crunch. The real monster was just above him. The creature sniffed the air, then chortled out a menecing growl. The boy looked up, the house falling silent once more. This time, there was no shivers of joy, simply the ideological memories of pain prickling up his spine.
He inched his way to the kitchen, slipped by the crazed demons. hands shook attempting for a knife. Dark in this room, hands groped along the counters, fumbled fingers knocking a plant over. He lurched to grasp it, saving it from an untimely demise.
Feet felt clammy on the slick tiles. Breath he commanded himself, just breath. Finally he made out the knife block. After what felt like hours of searching along the boards, toaster, and other utensils, cold steel brushed his hands. One in particular slipped in his grasp, molded in his hand. Curled hands grasped it tightly, a grin split open on his lips, a Grinch sort of smile. The kind that should have scared him. There was something in the air, something to make him not himself.
If the boy had thought about it. The ideas that popped in his head should have startled him. After all he didn't really know how to use a knife, nor what he would do once he got it out of the block. He gave it a tug, but the steel was stubbornly stuck. Another tug, then he stumbled back smashing his spine against the opposite counter. China crashed around him, he gasped sick with what mother would think should she notice the mess.
The noise alerted the demons to his presence. Silent ringing filled the house once more. This time not as pleasant, this time filled with expectation; reeked with fear. It popped, then cracked, slipped then slid, and the world is black once more.
The beat of a heart, the deep breath of putricidy; its the ringing of other worldliness in his ears. Eona last thought on his mind, last words on his tongue, the glowing green of eyes, and chanting of gremlins haunted as he slipped back into unconsciousness….
The whispers of of the cackling chant float in his mind. A dizzy sensation of swimming thoughts made him want to groan. It seemed as days went by, felt as the world has tumbled out existance. He needed to stay strong, he needed to save his sisters Christmas… sister…. Who was his sister? Eona the whisper echos in his mind. Eyes flashed open once more, what happened he didn't know, but this time he was prepared. Knife in hand he laid still for a moment gathering all he could. Mustering his strength for a fight. That he wasn't at all sure he could win.
Kryten
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