A Dark Christmas Gift

A Dark Christmas Gift

         He entered the house silently, draped in burgundy and gray fur. The fire in the fireplace was lit, throwing shadows across his large frame. His hood draped his long, black hair and beard, hiding his face from view.
         
         He unrolled the long piece of parchment in his large hands. In front of him were the names of all the children that had been naughty, that had misbehaved. A grim smile spread across his chubby face.
         
         Silently he crept up the wooden stairs to little Tommy’s room. Entering the child’s bedroom, he spied a small red hair boy asleep in his bed. Looking at his scroll, he read “Tommy MacGuire hit his little sister”. Shaking his head in disgrace, the large man stood beside the child’s bed. He waved his hand over the lad’s face and quickly turned and left. Immediately, Tommy began to sweat, his heart palpitating. Tossing and turning in his sleep, the child would get no more rest for the night.

         Another house, he entered. Dusting off the soot from his burgundy outfit, he checked his long list of names. Julie MacNamara was next on his list. She had the dubious distinction of swearing at her babysitter. Again, shaking his head in disgust, he headed across the living room to the child’s bedroom. With a wave of his hand, the little girl began whimpering, immediately turning into a wail. Tossing and turning in her bed, her nightgown twisted around her small frame, the child could not escape the images in her own mind. With a sly smile on his face, he ascended back up the fireplace, laughing all the way.

         Atop the rooftop, the snowy cold hit his face, causing him to shiver a bit. He knew he had one last house for the night. So many children, just one night. Eyeing his list, he saw the name was Daniel Erickson. Shaking his head, this was not the first time he made a visit to this boy’s house. He climbed aboard his transport, six skeletal horses each tethered together by reigns of black leather. With a snap of his reign, they disappeared into the night.

         Arriving moments later on little Daniel’s rooftop, he glanced again at his parchment to view the boy’s crime. “Daniel Erickson stole from the corner drugstore”.  Great, he thought, just great. Standing by the child’s bedside, he looked into the boy’s face wondering what would cause a child to behave like this. Knowing the answer would never come, he waved his hand over the small child’s face and walked away, leaving him with his dark Christmas gift. With a finger to the side of his nose, he flew up the fireplace and to his escape. Into the night, he was gone.

         Back downstairs, the child writhed in his sleep, tossing and turning. Beads of sweat poured down his cheeks, his heart beating in his chest, threatening to explode.  Images of being chased by monstrous black dogs swirled through his head, unable to outrun them. No matter how hard he ran, he could never outrun the vicious, menacing hounds.  They began nipping at his heels, causing him to trip, skinning his knee. He staggered to his feet again, running as hard as he could. Daniel could see the dogs snapping at him as he ran. Finally, he could run no longer. Before he knew it, the dogs were on him, tearing at him. He screamed and screamed, no one would come for him. He screamed… His mother shook him by the shoulders. “Baby, wake up. You were having a nightmare.” Hugging him, she said, “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Merry Christmas, Daniel.