by Tim Curran
I almost didn’t spot it at first. A blot on the empty, barren nowhere-scape that got bigger and was soon joined by lots of other blots, all heading in our direction.
“What’s happening?” I asked my guide, having given up on an answer.
“I told you: you’ve been chosen,” she replied.
“If I’m chosen, is that a good thing? Does that mean I’m going to live? To serve the city, or something? Because I’d like that, I really would,” I gabbled.
Whatever was coming was getting closer by the second.
“Don’t worry little rat, you will serve your city. It’s an honour you were born for. The strength of your desire lights you up like a beacon to the ones who come.”
“And who the fuck are they?”
“The Travellers, of course. Those who would cross between worlds - but they can only pass on the shortest day of the year.”
The tumorous grey mass drew closer. I could see now that it was made up of individuals, running towards us.
“Yeah, but will I live?”
“Sacrifices by their nature do not live, Derek. Fear not though. Your death will cement the wards between worlds and keep the Travellers from crossing.”
“What if I don’t want that? What if I say, fuck your sacrifice, Derek McVey wants to live to fight another day?”
She turned to me, lights moving in the depths of her dark eyes, an expression of intense compassion on her face.
“Then you’re screwed.”
The first of the swarm reached us, red in eye and hooked in claw. I was going to be ripped apart by the mob and I wasn’t going easy.
“God help me,” I screamed as something hacked my leg off at the hip and I fell under the crush of heaving bodies.
“God is dead, Derek. It’s the Goddess you should be praying to,” was the last thing I heard before they took my head and stuck it on a pike while I was still alive.
***
I linger between worlds now. A puff of smoke, a tang of ozone on an autumn afternoon, a cold spot you pass through on your way to the warm pub to meet your friends and lovers.
Giving you the chills is the high point of this twilit eternal existence of mine.
That and the Christmas market of course - the only thing I’m allowed to haunt with impunity. Maybe you’ll feel me as I skim, light as a breeze, over your hair as you shop or swirl around your feet as you sip gluhwein, ready to trip you up.
Maybe though, on the shortest day of the year - if I’m in the mood - I’ll send the Rabbit your way.
To see if you’re worthy….
THE END
About the Author
Rose Garnett is the author of Carnalis, (Winlock Press 2017) first novel of three in the Dead Central series. Other assorted monstrosities liberated from the oubliette of Scottish Urban Horror can be found on her author page at https://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B01N52B87N
Story fragments opening the oubliette on Rose's world are available on her blog at http://www.rosegarnett.com. Visit her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100004133444829. or follow her on Twitter @dead_central for updates. The horror....
The Night Before Christmas
By
Suzanne Fox
Callum’s eyes flashed open at the sound of creaking hinges and he raised his head to stare at the bedroom door as it slowly opened. His jaw fell open as he took in the image that was framed by the doorway. A pale figure clad in a red lace basque stood back-lit by the chandelier on the landing. Dark curls tumbled onto white shoulders and the curve of full breasts that were pushed even higher by the close-fitting underwear. His eyes lowered to take in long legs covered by the sheerest of stockings, and feet encased in four-inch high-heeled patent shoes. He pushed himself into a sitting position and the covers slipped from his chest, “Am I dreaming?”
The figure laughed. “No silly. I know it’s still technically Christmas Eve, but I wanted to give you an early present for bringing me to this beautiful cottage.” Jess stepped over to the window and drew back the curtain. “Look! It’s snowing.” Heavy, swollen flakes drifted lazily past the glass intensifying the cold moonlight’s glow. “If it carries on like this we’re going to be cut-off tonight.” She shivered. “It’s making me feel chilly. Any chance of warming things up?” She wiggled her way over to the four poster bed, kicked off her shoes and slid under the duvet beside Callum. She pressed herself close to him and he shuddered as the lace of her basque brushed the hairs on his chest.
“Can I unwrap my present now?” said Callum and a sly grin crossed his face. He reached around Jess’s waist and grabbed her bottom, squeezing the flesh until she yelped.
“Hey! You need to learn how to treat a lady gently or you don’t get to play with your pressie until tomorrow.” She wriggled free of his grasp and rolled over, turning her back to him and then let out another high-pitched squeal as his arms wrapped around her. His fingers slipped inside the lacy cups of the basque to pinch her rapidly hardening nipples. Her squeal was immediately followed by a low moan of pleasure and she snuggled her bottom against his rapidly expanding cock.
He let his fingers explore Jess’s warm, smooth skin, stroking, pinching and tickling. Every time she wriggled or jumped beneath his touch he felt himself grow a little harder until he could hold back no more. Callum grabbed her and flipped her onto her back. He twisted his fingers into the sides of her panties and the sound of tearing lace filled the room. “Hey! They were expensive!” she laughed.
“I thought you said they were my Christmas present.”
“They were the wrapping. Your present’s what was inside.”
“And now I’m going to have my present.” He hooked his arms beneath Jess’s knees and lifted her legs. “It looks like you’ve given me something I can wear.” He let the tip of his cock brush her glistening cunt, pulling back slightly every time she tried to raise her hips to meet him. “Don’t rush me. I’m going to enjoy this.”
“So am I. Stop teasing and fuck me.”
Callum reached down and guided the tip of his dick into her tight, wet pussy and then stopped, laughing as she tried to draw him deeper. “Patience, sweetheart.”
Thud!
Both of them turned their heads towards the window, the source of the sound, and Callum jumped up. “What the fuck was that?” A white clump was slowly gliding down the glass.
A snowball.
He approached the window and cupped his hands above his eyes to look out into the dark night. “I can’t see anyone out there and we’re miles from the nearest house.”
“Callum. Put some clothes on. There could be anyone out there.” Jess’s voice rose by an octave. She climbed off the bed and pulled on her robe, tying it tightly around her waist. She picked up Callum’s robe and handed it to him.
“Don’t you want to share the big feller with anyone,” said Callum. He smiled and jiggled his hips so his cock swayed from side to side.
“Put your robe on. Who on earth could be out there?” She peered through the window. “The snow’s getting pretty deep already. I think we’re going to be stuck here.”
“That’s okay. We’re not going anywhere for a few days and it’ll probably have melted by tomorrow night.”
“Yes. But we’re here now and there’s someone out there. It’s the middle of the night on Christmas Eve and we’re miles from anyone.” She shivered and pulled her robe tighter. “There could be any kind of creep out there looking for a chance to get in. This is weird. Go and make sure the doors are locked.”
“I locked them earlier. We’re safe. What could possibly happen to you with a big strong guy like me around to take care of you?”
Jess’s forehead creased into a frown. “I still don’t like it.” She pressed her nose against the cold pane, cupped her hands around her face and peered into the snowstorm. Her breath misted the glass and she wiped it with her hand. “Why would anyone be throwing snowballs in the middle of the night so far away from a village or town?”
“Don’t worry about it Jess.” Callum reached around her waist and pressed his recovering hardness against her bottom. “Come back to bed.”
“In a minute. I just want to be sure.” She ignored the exaggerated sigh emanating from behind her and kept scouring the white landscape for any movement.
She jumped. “Cal! Look! Over there. By the line of trees.”
“What?”
She stepped back so that Callum could take her place. “Look over by the trees. Near the gate posts at the end of the drive.”
He duly did as he was told. “There’s no one there, Jess. It’s just the shadows and the snow. If there was anybody there, they’d have gone now. They’ve played their trick and they’ll be heading home out of this weather.” He stepped away from the window and walked over to the bed.
Jess looked again. “Oh my God!”
Callum was by her side in a heartbeat. “What is it?”
“It’s…it’s a child walking out from the trees. What’s a child doing out alone in the middle of the night? Maybe there’s been an accident on the road. Callum go and bring them in.”
“I can’t see-”
“Look!” she pointed towards the end of the quickly disappearing driveway. “There! Near the gate.”
“I don’t…no wait. I think I can see something.”
“See. I told you there was someone. Now get out there and bring them in before they freeze to death. The poor little thing must be terrified.”
Callum grabbed his jeans and sweater from the armchair where they lay in a crumpled heap and pulled them on as quickly as he could. He could feel the anxiety radiating from Jess and it was contagious. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was he had seen in the depths of the driving snow but there was definitely someone out there and, as far as he could tell, Jess was right, it was a child. But what the hell was a kid doing miles from anywhere in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve?
Jess followed him to the door of the cottage and watched as he pushed bare feet into unlaced boots and shrugged on a thick jacket. She kissed him on the cheek. “Be quick. The poor mite’s going to have frostbite.”
“I will.” Callum unlocked the door and opened it onto a wonderland of flurrying, white flakes. He put his head down and forged a path through the deepening snow towards the trees. Several inches had fallen already and there was no sign of it letting up. Come the morning they were going to be isolated from the rest of the world. The icy flakes stung his eyes as he plodded his way down the drive. Drawing closer to the tall firs he called out. “Who’s there? Don’t be scared. Come inside where it’s warm.” A heavy blanket of silence surrounded him, broken only by the crunch of snow beneath his steps. He shivered as a glacial gust of wind delved beneath his coat and nipped at his flesh.
He paused when he reached the trees and a different kind of shiver coursed through his body. The firs reached for the unseen stars, their crowns disappearing in the whirling maelstrom. The straight trunks shivered and seemed to huddle together creating a deep black void where the undergrowth should be. He called again. “Hello!” He strained his ears but there was no reply. Not even the sound of nocturnal creatures broke the silence. He could see nothing at all past the front line of trees. Just total blackness. He followed the tree line the short distance to the end of the drive. This was where he thought he had seen the small, childlike figure but the snow was unblemished. The only footprints to be seen were the ones he was making and they were disappearing as he watched. He turned slowly on the spot. The only other sign of life was Jess, silhouetted against the warm light spilling from the open doorway. Callum shook his head. There’s nobody out here, he thought. No, he was just chasing shadows. The snow, the unfamiliar surroundings, not to mention the two bottles of wine they had shared earlier, had all conspired to play mind games on them both. A weight lifted from him at the realisation, and he began to turn around to make his way back into the warmth of the cottage.
A shrill scream pierced the night.
Jess!
He spun quickly, almost slipping in his haste, and looked towards the cottage doorway. Jess lay sprawled on the floor. Adrenaline gushed into his veins and Callum sprinted towards the cottage. The short distance felt like miles as the soft snow endeavoured to throw him off balance and denied traction to his steps.
Jess was staggering to her feet as he reached the cottage door. Her robe had slipped askew revealing pale breasts, pushed to seemingly impossible peaks by the cups of the basque, that were freckled with gooseflesh. He reached out and pulled her to him intending to warm and comfort her. Instead she jumped back as his snow-dusted jacket deposited a shower of white flakes on her bare skin.
“Jess. Are you okay” What happened?” Callum guided her inside and pushed the door closed behind him.
“I…I’m not sure.” Jess sounded a little shaken.
Callum quickly checked her over to make she wasn’t hurt. “Did you slip or trip over something?”
“No. No, it felt…” she thought for a moment. “It felt like someone pushed past me. I mean really pushed. Hard. But there was no one there so it couldn’t have been that. I suppose it was just a big gust of wind. It must have caught me off balance.
Callum looked doubtful but said nothing. He took hold of her arm and led her into the cosy sitting room. Red embers glowed in the hollow belly of the wood-burner, casting a deep crimson hue across the room. He flicked a switch on a lamp and a small circle of light deepened the shadows in the corners. A woollen throw adorned the back of the sofa and Callum reached for it, draping it around Jess’s shoulders. “Sit by the fire,” he told her. “You’re freezing. I’ll make some drinks.”
He stripped off his wet jacket and threw it over a chair as he walked into the kitchen. Grabbing a couple of glasses from a cupboard he splashed a generous amount of brandy in them from a bottle he had left on the counter. A creak resounded from the floor above and his head shot up. Bloody old houses, he thought. Give me a new build every time. By the time he returned to the warm comfort of the sitting room he had forgotten all about the creaks and groans of the old cottage.
Jess took a glass from him and sipped the warming liquid. She had stopped shivering. “There wasn’t anyone out there,” he said. “I think the snow and darkness were playing tricks on us. It must have been shadows from the trees against the snow.”
She nodded, “I guess you’re right. There wouldn’t really be a child out alone this late on Christmas Eve.” She glanced at the clock. “I mean Christmas Day.”
Callum downed his drink in one swallow. The amber liquid burned a path down his throat but he relished the sensation after the biting cold of his search for the phantom child. He watched Jess sip hers more cautiously. “Shall we go back to bed and…finish what we started?” He smiled and waited for her reply. A lecherous grin in return gave him the answer he wanted. His fingers twisted in hers as he pulled her to her feet and towards the open staircase.
Bang!
A yelp escaped Jess’s lips and her glass crashed to the floor in a thousand diamond shards. “What’s up there?” she squealed.
Callum swallowed back his own cry that threatened to escape, “It’s okay Jess.” His voice sounded calmer than he felt. The noise had startled him and he guessed he was still a little strung out from imagining a kid wandering around in the midst of a snow storm. “It’s just old house noises. Probably ancient plumbing or something.” He picked her up and carried her to the stairs so she wouldn’t step barefoot onto the broken glass. “You go to bed. I’ll sweep this up and follow in a few minutes.”
A frown flitted across her face before she smiled. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was so clumsy. It scared the crap out of me though.”
Her eyes were still a little wide but Callum thought it was probably the effects of the brandy. He patted her bottom as she turned around and walked up the staircase. As soon as she disappeared from view he set about clearing up the glass and within a few minutes he entered the bedroom.
Jess lay on top of the duvet. She had discarded her robe and the basque covered very little of her body. Her knees were bent and slightly parted, welcoming him back to bed. A scrap of red silk, the remains of her torn panties, lay discarded on the rug. Any fears and uncertainties that had threatened to spoil their romantic Christmas retreat were being quickly banished by the anticipation of what would happen as soon as Callum climbed into bed.
The soft rug tickled his toes as he stepped closer and he pulled his sweater over his head as he went. He threw it to the floor and unzipped his jeans as he reached the side of the bed. Suddenly every hair on his body was erect. A primal fear held him in a grip of steel and dizziness threatened to engulf him as the blood drained from his face.
“Callum!” Jess’s voice rose in a shaky crescendo. “What’s wrong? You’ve gone white.”
Adrenaline gushed through his veins. He wanted to run. He wanted to fight. But fight what? Confusion jostled at fear’s shoulder. Why was he so anxious? Why was he so scared? Quickly regaining control of his limbs he jumped onto the bed and swung his legs up, abruptly anxious to have them above floor level in an echo of long-forgotten childhood neuroses.
“Callum?” Jess’s voice pulled him back to earth.
“Huh.” He looked at Jess and guilt superseded his unease. Concern had etched a clear course across her face. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I just freaked out for a minute. It’s been a weird evening.”
He slipped his hand between her thighs and squeezed her yielding flesh. He adored the throaty moan that escaped her whenever she was aroused and he felt his cock begin to revive at the sound. Jess parted her legs slightly and Callum traced his fingertips towards her dark, inviting core, brushing against the curls that framed his target. Jess’s legs opened further and his hardness was now straining against the confines of his jeans. With his free hand he tugged at the zipper.
