Archive for December, 2009

EGGNOG & MISTLETOE: By Robert C. Eccles

Friday, December 25th, 2009

Santa was running behind schedule, and he didn’t look closely to verify that the drink the children of the house had left him was milk, not the dreaded eggnog. Santa downed the drink in one gulp and instantly knew he was in trouble. As the eggnog made its way into his stomach, he felt the changes in his body begin.

Santa’s eyes turned from sparkling blue to glowing, bloodshot red. His face elongated, bones stretching and re-shaping beneath his skin, producing a massive, gaping mouth full of pointy teeth. His fingernails grew until he had a set of razor-sharp claws on each hand. Dark, wiry hair grew on Santa’s arms and hands, and his ears disappeared into his head, replaced by a set of throbbing, vein-laced horns.

Santa scanned the living room, searching for the one thing that could counteract the effects of the eggnog. His eyes were drawn to the top of a door frame, and there he found his salvation. A sprig of mistletoe hung there, white berries and pointy green leaves a welcome sight.
Santa ran for the door, only to find his path blocked by the family dog, a so-called “labradoodle”, baring its teeth and growling. Santa scooped up the dog with one hand and stuffed it into his mouth, devouring it in one bite.

Santa reached the mistletoe and tore it from the door frame with one claw-tipped hand. He tossed it into his mouth and swallowed. Almost immediately he began to change back into his jolly old self. His eyes regained their blue shimmer, his horns vanished and his ears re-appeared. The dark, wiry hair on his hands and arms went away, and his claws turned back into normal fingernails. The change complete, Santa breathed a sigh of relief.

The sound of tiny footsteps drew Santa’s attention to a little girl of perhaps five creeping down the stairs. The girl gasped when she saw Santa, her mouth a round “O” of surprise, and then a huge smile spread across her face. Santa had finished placing the gifts around the tree before downing the eggnog, but as he put a finger aside of his nose, he thought there might be one more gift up in his sleigh. He vanished up the chimney and was back in a flash, setting a large gift-wrapped box down in front of the little girl. The child tore off the paper. She opened the flaps and giggled with joy as a puppy jumped out of the box and began to lick her face.

“What are you going to call him?” Santa asked.

The girl thought for a moment, then smiled. “I think I’ll call him ‘Eggnog’.”

A shiver shook Santa’s body and his face took on a greenish hue. He clamped one hand over his mouth and was somehow able to get back up the chimney and onto the rooftop before vomiting a gush of yellow fluid mixed with bits of fur, bone, green leaves and berries into the white snow.

© 2009 Robert C. Eccles

LOVE KNOWS NO EMOTION: By Jim Wisneski

Tuesday, December 22nd, 2009

THE WORST OF LOVE  CONTESTANT

Her face was cold.  Again.  It was always cold. 

Cold since he found out about the other guy in her life.  The truth was, no matter how painful it was to accept, the other guy was better for her.  He could provide more, he could accomplish more, he could give her more, but one thing the other guy couldn’t do better was love her.

Nobody loved Scarlet like Drake did.

“Why is your face cold?” he asked her.

She blinked.

“Please, just talk to me,” Drake said reaching out to grab her hand.

Scarlet didn’t return the gesture.

“Do you love him?”

Scarlet lowered her eyes.  She always did this when she was guilty. 

“You know, it’s kind of funny how you would get mad at me for never bringing flowers or getting out of work early to come see you.  Then the one day I do. . .”

“Please, stop,” Scarlet said.  “Please.  There’s nothing I can say to make this right.”

“Just tell me you don’t love him.  Tell me you love me.  Tell me you want to be with me forever.  Tell me.”

Scarlet was quiet again.

Drake leaned forward and hugged Scarlet.  He nuzzled his nose against her cold cheek.

“Please,” he whispered in her ear, “please just tell me.  We don’t have much time.”

“That’s your fault, not mine.”

“Love knows no emotion.  It never has and never will.  Don’t you get that?”

“I love him Drake, I do.  He’s good for me.”

“And me?”

“I love you too.  But you’re not good for me.”

Scarlet looked away.  She never made eye contact.  That was how Drake knew she was telling the truth.  She could stare him down and lie but an ounce of truth comes out and she looks away.

“He’s not so good now, is he?” Drake said with a smile.

“That’s not fair,” Scarlet said. 

She was beginning to sob. 

“I didn’t mean to kill him.  You know that, don’t you?”

Scarlet shook her head.

Drake dropped to his knees.

“If I just knew before hand, that’s all.  I saw a man on top of you.  I didn’t know what was happening.  I thought he was hurting you.  Then I. . . I. . just please. . .”

“It’s okay,” Scarlet said with a smile.  “We don’t have much time.”

Drake knew he only had a minute or so before Scarlet would have to leave.

“Just please,” he begged, “please, just kiss me.”

“Drake, I can’t,” Scarlet replied.

“Please.”

“Love knows no emotion, huh?” Scarlet asked looking away.

“None.  I’m crazy.  For you.  Please.  Just one kiss.”

Scarlet looked at Drake and he leaned in.  Even her lips were cold.  He held her face in his hands and kiss her.  He wished to go back and not mess things up.  He wished he could be with her in bed again, where it was warm.

“I love you,” he whispered into her mouth between kisses.

“I love you too,” Scarlet said.

There was a loud knock at the metal door.  It echoed through the small room.

“Hey, knock it off!” a guard yelled.  The guard turned around and laughed with another guard.  “He’s licking the wall again!”

Drake froze.  He looked behind him and then straightened his shoulders. 

Drake reached out and grabbed with one hand the rotting set of eyeballs he had placed on the window sill in his cell.  He was scared because the odor and mush of the eyes meant Scarlet was almost completely gone forever.  He wanted more time with her. . . he needed to know she had forgiven him and loved him.  He kissed the gooey eyes and whispered, “love knows no emotion” one more time before hiding them under his pillow.

 

©2009 Jim Wisneski
 
Jim Wisneski lives in Pennsylvania where he thinks, writes, and thinks.  Follow him and his many ongoing writing, poetry, and music projects through his blog at www.WritersnWriters.blogspot.com.