Dark December [A Holiday Filled Horror Anthology]

There's No Christmas by @rosaimee

There's No Christmas by rosaimee

Silent Night

It's midnight, Christmas Eve. A night you hate to the marrow. To the distance, the tunes of Silent Night song fade to die in silence... and silence is precisely what you abhor the most, but when you dwell in the last house of an dead end street, quietness nooks all over you, engulfing you, deafening you.

When someone's your age there's no point on decorations, neither lights or carols. Christmas has been meaningless for so long. It's been years since the last seasons shopping... decades. No family, friends, the life you've chosen. Children or spouse were never a option. Priorities set were twelve hour shifts and money in the bank.

"Damned Christmas! There's no Jesus, no God... everyone's a fool spending money in gifts and candies." You mumble, hot cocoa cup in hand, the finest brand, only for you.

On the wall, a dozen college certificates and awards are displayed to your solely pride and boast. While dragging tired feet to the bedroom, lights are turned off; electricity is expensive.
And once in the bedroom, you take some minutes to contemplate the snow falling, gentle sheer of white flakes drifting to kiss the dirt. Outside the windows a white rug of vastness extends to the nearby lake, frozen. The skeleton bared branches would have scared everyone else, but you, because there's nothing to fear. Leaves fall from the trees in autumn only to grow in spring again.

Life is only breathing and dead is nothing more than a pulse that stops, a heart ceasing beating or a brain in shutdown. There's no soul, no heaven, no hell, no ghosts, nor demons or angels. Everything we got is what we see until the day we cannot see it anymore.

After pulling the heavy drapes to roll them close, you go to bed. It's a night to go to sleep early to prevent a sudden burst of pusillanimous humanity invade your thoughts. Thinking on Christmas carried only nostalgia, and nostalgia was only for the weak ones.

Finally, drowsiness pulls its blanket of darkness over, and you fall asleep. A sudden noise wakes you up. A crackling and hissing sound coming from the living room! "Rats!" There's nothing to worry about, you think, they're only looking for a warmer shelter and the bricks in the chimney always make a good burrow.

Startled, you jerk up straight to a louder thumping. No rat is fat enough to make that noise, that's for sure, perhaps a raccoon. You turn the bedside lamp on and cane in hand walk out the room. The lump on you back grows bigger on the shadows, disheveled the hair and bony fingers would scare the hell out of whoever dared to trespass. Old witch's manor, ha, you know, no burglar in town is brave enough. The sound of footsteps makes you retreat, fear becomes tangible as they approach.

All lights are off, it's impossible to see, yet you make it to the bedroom and close the door behind. Heavy steps louder and louder as it nears. There's no one to call –the only telephone is outside the room-, nowhere to go, no place to hide... no one cared about the grumpy old lady.
The doorknob shakes a bit. You gasp, holding your breath. Fear... that's how it feels. Then it turns slowly and after a soft clacking sound, the door opens. You give a few steps back to meet the bed and fall sitting on it.

It walks into your room. A shadowy silhouette first as it emerges from the dimness in the hallway. Then you see it. Dressed in red and white velvety coat and pants and dragging a matching colors leather bag, he enters. Black boots stepping heavily, make the planks to squeak.

You're shaking to the bones on your bed, nodding, thinking it's not real. "It's a dream, a nightmare!" You scream. "You're not real!"

He laughs a dark grave laughter mocking on you. Red piercing eyes, yet no face, stares at you, every time getting closer.

"Oh God..." you moan.

"There's no God, no Savior." He says.

"I don't want to die, please." You plead, crying.

"Life is only breathing..." He points index finger at you. "... and dead is nothing more than a pulse that stops, a heart ceasing beating or a brain in shutdown..." your eyelids drop closed. The stench of sulfur and rotting meat chokes you, last threads of air leaving your lungs, burning, aching. "There's no soul, no heaven, no hell, no ghosts, nor demons or angels. Everything we got is what we see until the day we cannot see it anymore." He recites and darkness engulfs you completely.