Christmas night episode 4
Christmas night episode 4
Privy
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It was later in the evening that Lance dropped Marie off at the back of the mansion and helped her carry her grocery pack up the first stairs. Marie was already feeling some form of guilt for going to the extent of sleeping with the young lad and she turned back (as they climbed the stairs) to dissuade him.
“That’s okay”, she said. “You don’t have to come all the way”
“I don’t mind Marie”, replied Lance as Marie collected the pack from him.
“My husband is already at home; and he could kill you if he finds you here. I bet you won’t like to find out first hand.”
Lance laughed out loud and for a moment Marie heard something sinister in his laughter. Her expression changed immediately and Lance noticed it, asking. “What’s that?”
“Nothing….just that I thought I heard something awkward”.
“Awkward? How?”
“Never mind”, Marie replied and began to climb up the stairs.
“Okay then. Goodnight”, Lance said
“Yeah…Goodnight Lance”, replied Marie and she stopped to watch the hunky lad strut to his worn out carriage. She was really sure she had heard something within the boys laughter. It sounded so unnatural and well……never mind, she thought. It could be her guilt acting up within her. Then she looked upwards towards the remaining flight of stairs leading towards the rooms. She just hoped Nate wouldn’t detect she had just been unfaithful some minutes ago. She wasn’t a good liar though, but she would try as much as possible to hide the guilt beclouding her expressions. Shrugging indifferently, she stepped up the stairs.
Nate was already snoring loudly, sprawled in a chair with a bottle of rum hanging from his left hand when Marie stepped into the sitting room. Emily was no where to be found within as she roamed her eyes around, not failing to notîce the floating lantern placed on a cabinet. She walked quietly to adjust it and it’s handle jammed, startling Nate who stirred awake in his seat.
“Who’s there”? he asked in a slurpy voice as he tried to fit back his old hat on his head.
“Hi Nate”, Marie responded.
Nate raised his head gently to see his wife standing some few feets away from him and he staggered to his feet, belching and wobbling. He took few drunken steps towards her and ended up falling to his knees before struggling er-ct once more.
“What yer been doing?” he asked in a warped accent.
“Had to stay back because of the snow storm Nate” Marie replied.
“Stayed back with a boyfriend ehh?” he lurched forward and slapped her, sending her spinning and falling on the wooden floor. “I been seeing yer spending a lot this days”. Nate growled. “Boyfriend seems to be paying for good services” and he kicked Marie (as she tried to get up) in her stomach, making her curl up in pains.
“It’s the money from the pawning Nate” Marie cried with trickles of blood in her mouth. But her explanation wasn’t worth listening for Nate who stomped his foot on her wa-ist and she scre-med.
“You’ll kill me you drunk” she sobbed.
“Then die you bloody whõre!”? Nate kicked her once more in her stomach and staggered away, leaving her in the dimly lit place to writh on the floor. All that could be heard from afar was the wailings of a woman in pains.
**December 24 – Christmas Eve**
Despite the Christmas season in the air, the little town of Fearville seemed not to be agog with preparations and festivities, and that got Marie really worried. She had woken on that chilly snowy day to notice that there were no Christmas trees on the streets neither were there any last minute Christmas shopping by people. What a strange little town, she wondered. It was when had gone to visit Lance in the pawn shop earlier that day, that he told her some gruesome secrets surrounding the little town.
Lance told her that Christmas was more of an effaced culture in Fearville, owing to the fact that the Satanists had inculcated some of their beliefs into Christmas. And as such, those who were ardent faithfuls of the old traditions kept Christmas celebration at low key and at times not even celebrate it at all.
“So what beliefs did the Satan worsh¡ppers blend in?” Marie asked as they sat outside the patio of the pawn shop.
Lance replied by telling her that there were myths going around that the Satanists release the evil side of Santa called Krampus into the streets on Christmas day. This was their way of mocking the birth of the Christ. Actually Krampus was an evil spirit culled from Scandinavian history and was seen as the chastising spirit of Santa Claus. He wrecked havoc on homes and people on Christmas eve thereby dousing the festive mood in them.
“There was no Christmas eve that went by without the town hearing of the gruesome attack of Krampus on a particular family”. Lance added. “It’s something everyone is now used to”.
“That’s so weird and scary”. Marie said.
“Yeah…..it is”.
Back home that night, Marie had an argument with Nate. She had told him she wasn’t comfortable with the mansion anymore nor the town but Nate flared up calling her a kill joy. How she wished Nate would see reasons with her. Yes they didn’t have the money to buy such a house back in Pensworth, but she had her priceless peace of mind and enjoyed the love and cooperation of the friendly lively town. How much she missed Mrs. Medley who would bring cup cakes to her doorstep on Christmas eve, and the Harold boys choir who sang carols from street to street while impressed neighbours filled their bags with cents. Fearville was a total far cry from Pensworth and the worst place she had ever been. She was still lost in thoughts when she heard a strange clogging sound outside….Clog! Clog!! Clog!!
The shuffling and clogging sound drew nearer on that 22nd hour of the day (10:00pm) and Marie peeped outside the blurry window to see what it was. To her surprise, she caught a glimpse of Santa walking down the street (atleast something like christmas, she thought) and she rushed outside to find a shocker.
It was a limping Santa with a wooden left leg walking down the lonely and dimly lit road, singing a strange weird song. His left leg had been amputated and he looked huge and frail, dragging an old dirty brown bag behind him. Though he looked so creepy, Marie felt it was better having a one legged Santa than having none in a wh0le town of weird looking people. So she decided to call on Santa.
“Hey! Santa!” she called. “Got nothing for me?”.
The grimy old Santa stopped singing abruptly, stopping in his tracks and turned back to stare at his caller as she noticed his right eye was pale with cataract and and popping out of its socket. His face looked scarred and the Santa cast her a cold smile revealing a set of brown scanty teeth….Creepy!
“What yer want from old Santa” he growled shuffling and limping towards her. He reached where she stood and hoisted his dirty brown bag in front and looked directly into Marie’s eyes. Those eyes possessed an eerie look and Marie looked away instantly and brought her face down to the bag before her.
“Pick something er”, Santa said and she dipped her hand into the bag, rummaging till her hand came in contact with something which felt like a book as the Santa kept smiling sinisterly. She pulled it out and yes…it was indeed a book, but a strange looking one. Turning the front cover, it was titled ‘Necronomicon’. She flipped through the pages in the faint light and saw hideous paintings and strange writings in it. That alone sparked her interest and she clutched the book to her chest.
“Is that what yer want?”, Santa asked
“I think I’ll go with this”, she replied.
Then the Santa paused for a while, before leaning forward to stare into her face. “Be careful what you wish for child”, he rasped, clattering his teeth as his foul breath hit her nostrils. Suddenly he turned and hoisted his bag on his weak shoulders. “Merry Christmas”, he whispered as he walked away from sight. Little did Marie hear him say: “You just got to hell dear” as he kept limping down the road. And she took a final look at him and walked back into the house without noticing the slitted eyes staring at her from the shadows in the distance.
Necronomicon
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** That same night **
Marie sat by the fire place purring over the strange book in her hands. The oil lantern was already out and the house was only lit by the scarlet embers of the flames from the charring fireplace. The night was already far spent and it had stopped snowing, with the moon at its fullest as it’s silvery light leaked through the frosty windows, accompanied by momentary caws of distant birds. Marie sat on the wooden floor with legs folded as she ignorantly began to read through with her l-ips moving inaudibly. She flipped open the first page and read out a Latin inscription : “XIII Portas Inferni” (which meant The 13 gates of hell) after which she continued mumbling the strange words she saw. Everything she read was in Latin.
“Et aperuerit tibi portas inferni” (Oh open the gates of hades), she continued mumbling the dark words, and for half an hour she was still face down to the book when the flames in the fire place exploded and the she startled, noticing the sudden violent wind which swept through the house and outside as it made rustling noises and eerie whistles and causing the doors to bang noisily. For a moment she paused her reading and looked around the house. Though she knew winds could be violent, but not in this form, she thought. Slowly she returned her head down to the book and continued.
The rustlings continued as the dead leaves under the trees swirled in the night air and a dodgey footstep began to approach the mansion. The bearer of the footsteps blinked its slitted yellow eyes as it stepped cautiously before coming to stand behind a tree (in front of the mansion) and watched Marie through the window as she bent over the Necronomicon. The figure smiled in an evil grin, blinking its slit of eyes once more.
More by intuition, Marie felt she was being watched and swiftly turned back to look outside the window but saw no one. Closing the big old book, she got up and walked to the window, drawing the curtains and her eyes fell on a shadowy movement behind the tree outside. She peered directly and saw nothing before drawing the curtains closed finally. It was time to go to bed, she yawned sleepily. Nate was assumed to be snoring in bed as usual, while Emily had been properly tucked in with her new cat in bed. Dousing the fire place to a minimum, Marie climbed up the stairs sluggishly as she couldn’t wait to rest her aching back.
** 20 Minutes Later **
Marie stirred awake and looked around the faintly lit room. Nate was snoring so loud, but she was sure it wasn’t what had woken her up. She listened intently and then she heard it……… “Marie” the hushed voice whispered her name. She tried to cover her ears but it was as if the voice had moved into her head. It kept calling on and on and on as he wrapped her head with the pillow till she couldn’t take it anymore. It was driving her crazy. Pushing the pillow aside she sat up and came down from the bed she was bound to find out what it was.
She was now walking down the dark stairway and she could hear the voice calling louder now as a strong wind was already blowing outside. It now sounded more like a child’s voice and she came stepping into the sitting room. The strong wind which kept blowing, whooshed into the sitting room, and the pages of the big book (on the dining) flipped open in a rattling sound which startled her. She held her gaze steadily toward the dining (to her left) till the corner of her eyes caught a figure standing by her right….she gasped, turning to see a little figure clad in a white nightie standing in front of the gargoyle frame mirror. She knew that wasn’t Emily because her daughter was fast asleep. This was certainly the strange little figure she saw in her previous dream. Then the figure turned its hideous face to her, and her eyes w¡dened as she tried to scre-m, but her voice was gone and she only kept gasping instead of scre-ming. Her heart was now racing fast, her head ached in a high blood pressure as the figure peered into her eyes. The face of the figure was too hideous to behold, with tears running down it’s eyes; and in that moment she thought she would pass out and she grabbed her head which seemed to be swelling in shock. Suddenly the figure became luminescent and Marie could make out the muddy feet, w-t cloth and hair, and the lacerated body. Then the figure opened its mouth (blood oozed out) and it whispered into Marie’s head, “Marie…..follow me” as it took a step forward and stunningly walked into the mirror like a spirit. That was when Marie concluded that the being was a ghost and it definitely looked troubled, owing to the tears running down it’s white cheeks. It was the ghost of a child in distress and Marie was scared of following it but had second thoughts. If the ghost was really harmful, it would have harmed her earlier, but something told her it was trying to pass a warning. So taking those bold steps forward, Marie came to stand in front of the mirror and instantly a pale feeble hand shot out of the mirror, grabbing and pulling her into the revolving darkness.
Marie felt her self swirling in a lightening filled tornado till she landed on a wooden floor, feeling dizzy and light headed. Then her surrounding began to fall in place and she found out that she was standing in the middle of her sitting room, but this time the wh0le place looked different and well arranged with gas lamps standing at every corner of the house. A look at the calendar told her that she had been taken to the past (8 years back) and by this time, the house was occupied by it’s previous owners. She took a step forward and saw a little girl reading on the dining. The girl wore the same night gown the little ghost figure had worn and there was a striking resemblance to her. The girl continued mumbling the same words she (Marie) had mumbled while reading the Necroñomicon and Marie came to stand beside her hoping the girl would see her but the child kept sipping her cup of tea and reading. Marie tried to talk to her but she couldn’t hear too as she (Marie) began to understand that her surroundings wasn’t real, and she was only featuring in the memories of the ghost girl who probably had something to show her. The girl was still reading when an elderly female voice called her from up stairs.
“Samantha!” the voice called and the kid got out of her seat
“Yes mum”, she hollered back closing the book and ran in Marie’s direction. But before Marie would move out of the way, the kid ran through her body, climbing up the stairs. This was definitely not the real world, only a memory, Marie thought looking at the Necronomicon the way the girl had left it. At that instant her surroundings began to blur and distort before her eyes (she felt everywhere twisting) as it gradually faded away like a dust.