Christmas with the Kalli
By Elizabeth Los
Published By
Christmas with the Kalli
Copyright © 2013 by Elizabeth Los
This short story is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
Adult Reading Material
Christmas with the Kalli
The dim firelight danced on the walls of the small cabin. With her arms resting on her swollen abdomen, Britta wearily struggled to knit. The ball of yarn had tumbled from her lap, entangling itself on the nearby pile of wood. Every few minutes, she would look down at her daughter, Anna, who leaned against her legs. Anna had been reading, but Britta could tell she had fallen asleep. The book Anna had in hand had slipped from her grip and lay open in her lap. Britta felt the warmth of the embers in combination with her daughter’s body. Placing her project to the side, she leaned her head back, and sank further into her chair. Unfocused eyes stared into the hearth, her lids slowly closing and opening.
The crash of the front door and a cold blast of air startled Britta. Her brother, Kyle, burst into the room. Behind him, a snowstorm raged, partly pushing past him. Icy cold winds blew into the room. After he slammed the door shut, the family held their breath. Anna scrambled to her feet. She opened her mouth to speak, but Britta took hold of her hand and gave it a firm squeeze. The stern look on her face silenced Anna.
“Kyle, what’s the matter with you?” Britta snapped.
“The Kallikantzaroi,” came Kyle’s breathless reply.
“Oh, not this again,” she replied angrily.
Britta had heard of the lore. They told stories of goblin-like creatures that lived underground only to come to the surface during the Christmas season. Any child born on December 25th was at risk for kidnapping. Kyle had fallen victim to these lies, but she never did. Reason told her these things could not exist. What would be the point? As she and her brother grew into adulthood, he held fast to his beliefs, but she remained as stubborn as ever. The mention of it always sparked a violent reaction in her.
Britta’s husband pushed Kyle towards the door. Kyle wouldn’t leave. He continued to argue and point at his sister.
“Alistair, they’re coming! You must take steps to protect your family. You must or you’ll lose-” Uncle Kyle stopped short. “I’m sorry, Britta. I truly am. But you know the stories, you’ve heard them from our parents and our parents’ parents. They’re true! The kalli are evil and-”
“Stop!” she said, clenching her jaw. “I am aware of the stories, these creatures coming from the ground. I don’t hold credence to it! It’s a fable to frighten little ones. I can’t bring myself to believe they might take my child. Common sense, Kyle. If the birth is to happen tomorrow, my baby will be safe, well-loved and protected within these walls.”
“Sister, please! Britta, I don’t mean to upset you, just to warn you. I’d hate for anything bad to happen to you, to Jacob. Please, Brit. You don’t have much time!”
“Leave, Kyle,” Britta said, turning her back on him.
Britta was tired of the argument. What frustrated her further was the look in Alistair's eyes: fear. She had never noticed him afraid of anything. The sole provider for the family, he would leave before dawn and not return until he had successfully hunted and killed enough to sustain the family for another day. He had come across bears and wolves, yet he was never frightened to return to hunting. Her husband was her hero. But the expression he now held gave her pause.
The day should have been a happy one. It was only a few minutes until midnight, a few minutes until Christmas. Her daughter should be in bed sleeping now. She and Alistair would be sneaking presents out and placing them by the fireside.
Her thoughts were shattered by a shock wave of pain ripping through her. Alistair rushed over to her. She whispered breathlessly into his ear, tears flowing from her eyes, “It’s time.”
“Mamma? Pappa?” Anna whispered. Alistair pulled her into his arms. Britta could see his body tremble. He was crying. He believed Kyle.
“It’s all right, Anna. Mamma’s going to have baby. Soon, you will have a baby brother or sister.” Her father held a trembling smile.
Britta groaned. Another round of pain hit her. Alistair scrambled to help her to the bed. She stood, gripping the frame. The ability to stand still was lost on him. In a cyclical pattern, her husband paced about the room only to return to her side.
A loud thud hit the roof. Dust particles fell from the ceiling. Though silence would have been preferable, Britta could not hold it in. With another cry out followed by loud sobbing, she attempted to control the cramping that tightened her muscles. Her daughter clung to her side. Alistair grabbed his shotgun.
A few minutes later, Britta screamed along with an uncontrollable urge to push. She could hear scraping of what sounded like long sharp nails against the wood. Repeatedly, she heard a heavy clunk above and clawing from below. She silently prayed for deliverance, but this was answered only with the increasing sounds and movements from outside.
The firelight of the hearth grew faint, the flame fighting to stay alive despite the cold and the falling soot from the chimney. Shadowy tendrils slithered down the sides of the fireplace only to quickly retreat at the pop or crackle of the heated wood.
Britta squinted her eyes, attempting to obtain a better view despite the growing darkness. The temperature of the room was dramatically falling. She could see a puff of fog with each exhaled breath.
The floorboard cracked. Anna screamed. Britta wrapped one hand around her mouth to muffle the sound. Alistair stood still. The cramping continued in waves. Her son would arrive soon. Britta hissed softly as she controlled the release of her breath.
The floor near the fire burst open. Shards of wood scattered. Britta’s heart quickened. Two beady green eyes peered from within the darkness below, staring back at her. She took in a sharp breath as it leapt up into the room. He was a horrible looking creature in spite of its size. Narrow ears and large eyes, he might have stood as high as her hip, if he didn’t hunch. He opened his mouth, revealing pointy teeth, as if carved for a specific purpose. His skin was pale yet brown from the dirt. In his hand, he held what looked like a stick, though a very sharp one.
“Help,” the creature whispered.
His eyes had been fixated on Anna, that is until labor pain hit. Slowly, his head turned as his attention came to rest on her. With one final push from Britta, her baby was born-a son. “Welcome home, Birgir,” she whispered as she cradled him in her arms.
“Back! Back away, you devil!” snapped Alistair. He aimed his shotgun at the creature, but it didn’t move. It wasn’t afraid. Instead, it pointed to Jacob while looking at the father.
“No, you cannot have him.” Britta’s exhaustive cries changed to a plea, “Don’t take my baby from me!” Sitting on the bed, she was working to clean and swaddle Jacob while at the same time hovering over him protectively. She would not take her eyes off of the intruder.
“Not take, no,” he replied.
The creature’s eyes glistened in the firelight. He opened his mouth to speak, when he was interrupted by a terrible scream. The sound echoed from above, coming down the chimney. The fire had nearly gone out at the force of the wind that followed.
The creature stepped away, pointing his weapon at the hearth. His back was to the family. Alistair raised his gun, preparing to fire. A screech sounded again, and the fire dimmed
down to embers.
“Pappa, no,” Anna whispered emphatically. “I think he’s trying to help us. You are a kallikantzaroi?”
The creature looked over his shoulder to Anna and gave a subtle nod. Then, he resumed his watch over the now dying fire. A heavy rain of soot fell down the sides of the hearth.
“Impossible. You aren’t real,” Britta said in a hushed voice.
“Help us?” her father asked incredulously. “From what?”
Outside, whispers rose and fell over the little cabin. At first, Britta thought it was the storm outside, until the sounds grew clearer with each passing minute. Watch out… Britta held her breath. The phrase repeated itself. Watch out…don’t cry…
“I-I don’t understand,” Britta began. “What’s going to happen? Who is that?”
The shadows behind the fire grew larger. She could see it take form. Teeth grounded sharp, glowing red eyes, the shape looked eerily familiar.
Watch out…don’t cry...you will…
“He comes for the boy,” the Kalli whispered. “He comes to kill.”
Britta took in a sharp breath. She wrapped her arms firmly around her son. The creature by her daughter’s side had spoken. “Comes for Jacob? But why?”
Yes you will die.
“He enslaves. Those born this day, he takes. Yes. But blood must be spilled. Before he can claim the boy, he must kill...,” the creature hissed.
“Blood? W-we have a young calf. And a goat.” Britta said, a tremor evident in her voice. “Which one? Whose blood?”
“Your family’s.”
A blast of soot and snow flew into the room. Deep laughter boiled and churned on all sides. In the blink of an eye, Britta notice a large shadowy pair of boots flattened the last of the burning embers. She screamed.
Better watch out…better don’t cry...yes you will die.
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