The Christmas Guest
(revised 2014 edition)
Justin Cawthorne
Copyright 2010 Justin Cawthorne
for everyone who still believes in Santa Claus
The Christmas Guest
by Justin Cawthorne
It was the night before Christmas and Katarina’s house was as quiet as death, and as dark as a shroud.
The bunnies were silent, left out in the cold. They’d given their gift, the greatest allowed. Her mother was resting, a slow, heavy sleep; she wouldn’t be leaving the warmth of her bed. The night remained patient, so lonely and languid.
And Katarina awaited her strange man in red.
She had been a good girl this year, had attended her Mass, but she knew there were others who’d lost those they held dear. Not everyone found Christmas a time of good cheer, and even some of her friends were no longer here. The worst was Danny who had been found dead by the weir. Before that Andy had gone missing: he was yet to reappear.
She knew there was no way to bring them all back, but she had made a wish for Santa to call - it was part of her plan to make the town safe for all. A small girl’s wish would surely be more than any great man could ever ignore. She was prepared to give him a very special gift to reward him for hurrying straight to her door (because it would be rude to ask for anything more).
The night wore on, and still she lay waiting. Her door lay open, her heartbeat racing, her light switched off, her brain contemplating. She wondered if her man would ever show up, if she should abandon her vigil and instead snuggle up.
But then she heard a noise, a whisper downstairs, an echo of footsteps drawing ever so near.
The sound crept closer, right up to her door, and at last there he stood, her guest: Santa Claus.
‘Good evening, dear Santa. Please come right in.”
Santa said nothing, just stepped within. He walked to her bedside, his white beard flowing, his red cape rustling, his yellow eyes glowing.
Katarina lay still as her dark man approached. “I’ve waited, dear Santa, like all the good kids. I’ve patiently awaited your wonderful gift.”
“Child,” croaked the man. “You’re careless to welcome the gift that I bring, but you’ll sleep long after I’m gone and not missed. You’ll soon have my gift, though I warn it might sting, but first let me ask you for one precious kiss.”
Santa leaned close, but Katarina withdrew. “No, Mr. Clause,” the young girl delayed, “You must first assure that you are who you claim.”
“I am just as you see me, the Father of Christmas, the bringer of gifts, the one loved by kids. I’ll grant you your gift before this night is passed, and I offer the same to your friends in the dark.”
“So,” Katarina went on to enquire. “Are you the Sinterklaas, or do they call you Saint Nick? Do you have a best name, or should I just call you Kris?”
“Child, you flatter me with all of my names, but whatever you call me I am one and the same.”
“Then I too have a gift for you, but first you must agree my price.”
The man in red rocked back in surprise. “And how could you possibly hope to tempt me, who can give without taking, and take without caring. I have had my fill of terror and joy, and other delights, on this ice cold night.”
And so he leaned in.
Then the girl interjected: “But still, if I might, I think you’ll agree it’s a minuscule price for what I will give. My only request is you stay by my side and together we’ll talk for just a short while.
“Then, when we are done I will let you take... me. For I am the gift I offer tonight.
“But the words you give must contain no more lies, for I know your real name is not Santa Claus.”
At this he scowled and drew over the child, but Katarina stayed calm and pushed him aside. “I will not scream, I will not flee. I swear you will have your way with me. You and I know when you have your feast that the gift freely given makes the taste, oh, so sweet. But you will not protest, and you will not insist, unless you wish to surrender this gift.”
She could hear his frustration as the stranger then asked: “And how do I know this is not mere trickery? That you’re delaying my stay so your parents may catch me?”
“I have only my mother, and she will not rise: I laced her wine earlier tonight.”
“You are cunning, my child, and you will indeed taste sweet. I will pay your price. What truths should I speak?”
“First I would see your one, true face. The face you show only to the ones that you take.”
“You would not like what I have to show...”
“Does that mean your answer is no?”
“Not for a moment, but don’t run in fear when you finally see the face that hides under here.”
“I will not run, you have my pledge.” Katarina held fast, controlling her dread.
First the creature took off its hat, showing the child what lay beneath that. Its head was smooth and perfectly white, the ancient skin stretched over tight. Its ears were large and torn and pointed.
Katarina watched, without disappointment, as the creature removed its false white beard and at last its face was completely revealed. Its mouth was wide and filled with teeth, its lips drawn tight over fangs beneath. There were two dark holes where a nose should be.
It was the face of a monster: as she’d expected to see.
“Are you scared, little girl?” it asked with a growl.
“There is no need to fear what I see plain and clear.” Katarina breathed deep, her night all but complete. “What’s more, as you know, I have promised you all - you already have me quite safe in your thrall.”
The monster admired her, its grin growing wider. “You are clever, my girl,” it gladly affirmed. “On this long night of feasts you shall certainly be the sweetest of treats that I ever did eat.”
“A night where beasts, well versed in deceit, can come and go wherever they please?”
“Again you are right,” the monster agreed. “For nobody fears beloved Saint Nick; he’s welcome to enter and then free to leave; so an invite is something I no longer need.”
“But just like a child so eager for treats you couldn’t forgo until Christmas Eve...”
The monster sighed, a fire in his eyes.
“Remember our deal,” the girl then advised. “I promise you’ll have me between your sharp teeth, but if you don’t tell the truth then our deal is forfeit.”
“I would take you by force if you dare taunt me so!”
“Then I fear, my dear monster, you would never delight in the savor of one who has given so freely. Much better, I’m sure, than the crude taste of burglary.”
The monster admitted: “Again you well know that your promise is such that you have me defeated. Your offer is one that I cannot deny. So please, child, forgive; let my threat pass you by.”
“There are children gone missing, in this festive season. I believe they are dead, I think you are the reason.”
The monster’s eyes narrowed, it spoke with a smile: “Your instincts are right. Your friends are too fertile for me to resist. I’ve taken my fill of your girls and your boys, their blood I have spilled, their souls are now mine. Their taste was too tempting for me to decline.
“But with you I’ll be sated, you’ll be my last. Till Christmas next year, when again I come past, your quaint little town can live without fear, your mothers and fathers can rest with their tears.”
Katarina sighed, feeling empty inside. “And now you have said all I needed to know. You may have me now, as I promised you so. But I beg you please not to rush your last feed. Take as long as you need to enjoy this great feast.”
At last, given leave, the monster leaned in and, baring its
teeth, began to drink deep.
Katarina reclined, her deceit now complete, preparing herself for her slow, final sleep.
And then, with a gasp, the beast fell aside. With a great hiss of pain, its voice fading fast, it started to cry: “You’ve poisoned me! Why?”
Katarina, now lying weak in her bed, started to smile, and then gladly said: “I have not told the truth, I have to confess, and you’ve fallen so well for the trap that I set.
“You were drawn by the scent of the bunny I bled, its life given freely to save others from death.”
“And the reason my blood brings you such great distress? Because earlier this night the priest had me blessed.”
With its last dying breath the monster then said: “But how can it be, you have lead to my death?”
“Because your lust is so great you chose not to wait, while I bided my time in preparing my bait. I drew you towards me as well as I could: you answered my call as I knew you would. And now my blood is the last you will taste as I send you to hell with all of my hate.”
But the monster was no more, lying dead on her floor.
Katarina, too, was unable to rise. With a sorrowful sigh she closed her eyes.
“And now I may join you,” she whispered quite weakly.
Although she’d succeeded, with the monster defeated, it had drank her so deep that her heart barely beat.
“Perhaps tomorrow I will wake up undead, or maybe I’ll die right here in my bed?”
Katarina lay still as her head began spinning, and wondered what Christmas would now end up bringing.
-- the end --