God Rest Ye ...

God Rest Ye ...

It was a beautiful summer day. The afternoon heat was tempered by the shade of the trees and the air was fragrant with lilacs. Jess sat, back against the oak, half dozing. The sounds from the myriad of life that surrounded him were a lullaby.

Slowly, he became aware of a humming sound. It seemed somehow familiar. He opened his eyes and saw a young woman that seemed to be floating in the glade. What a strange vision to have, he chided himself.

She was young with long dark hair. What struck him the most was her clothing: she was wearing a long, dark red crushed velvet gown. He was sure this was a dream because in the heat, she should have been sweltering. Instead, she was peaceful and serene.

In flash of recognition, he identified the tune she was humming; it was the Christmas standard "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen."

He struggled to his feet but as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone leaving him wondering if he had really seen anything but an apparition.

"Perhaps it's just the heat," he mused to himself. "Dehydration can cause visions." He returned to the village, stopping at the local pub.

The interior was cool and dark. Pulling a stool up at the bar, he ordered "something cold and wet, please."

"It's a hot one today," the bartender offered drawing him a large glass of ale.

"I can't argue with that," Jess responded. "I think I was on the verge of heatstroke," he added, taking a long draught.

"Really?"

"Really! I was walking through the woods and saw a lovely young woman singing Christmas songs," he laughed.

A somber look came over the bartender's face. "That was no vision. You saw Clarissa."

Now it was Jess's turn to look incredulous.

"Yes. It's a sad tale. Last Christmas Eve, her house caught on fire and she lost her child in the blaze. Every day since she wears the gown she had on and searches everywhere for her son. She's harmless enough and the doctors say maybe it will help her cope with the realization that her boy is gone."

The next morning, Jess retraced his steps. He found the glade as the morning mists were rising and first blossoms were greeting the day. There stood Clarissa seemingly in conversation with no one.

Jess stared at the scene, finally catching a shimmer of movement just beyond Clarissa. He rubbed his eyes. What is that? A hummingbird? No, it can't be. A fairy? As if by magic or, more likely a trick of the light, a small package appeared in Clarissa's outstretched hand. He watched her serene face suddenly brighten with joy.

"Oh thank you, thank you," he heard her say.

He watched as she slowly unwrapped the gift. Something caught the morning light and he saw the flash of a blade. "No!" he yelled, rushing to where she fell to the ground. "Oh, my god," was all he could say as he watched the blood gush from her severed wrists. "Hold on." He pulled his jacket off and tried to wrap the wounds.

"It's alright," he heard her murmur. She was looking past him,. "Yes baby, Mommy's coming," were the last words she spoke.

"May God rest you in peace," he said in whispered benediction. Anger filled Jess. He stood up, casting about for this "fairy" he had seen. "Show yourself," he screamed hoarsely. Movement in a tree branch caught his attention and he lifted an accusing finger. "What sort of evil are you?"

As he watched, the fairy façade seemed to evaporate and he found himself staring at a dark gargoyle like creature. Knowledge seemed to flow into him; he knew he was looking at evil in its purest form. He could sense its hunger.

Raising two sticks he'd found, he made a crude sign of the cross. "Be gone you evil spawn," he cried. As he watched, it launched itself into the sky and winked out of existence.

He knelt beside the still form of Clarissa, noting the beatific smile on her lips. He gently closed her eyes. He felt the salty burn of tears. There was nothing more he could do. I pray, wherever you are, that you've found your Christmas morning. With a sigh, he stood and headed back to the town.

Passing the oak tree where he first saw her, Jess paused. Turning, he viewed the peaceful scene. Was it evil or blessing? Some questions in life are never answered.

An entry for Day 7, "Invalid Item" 
Prompt: Image  
Word Count: 724