A holiday flash fic – The Christmas Visitor

Keep in mind, I’m a terribly cynical person. Happy holidays.


The sound of the bells was the only warning we had.

“Get down,” Momma whispered, tightening her grip on her shotgun. She peered over the back of the couch.

The chimney was shut, and we piled up stuff in it so it would be impossible to open. Well, impossible for a normal person. Momma didn’t think it would be good enough.

We heard dull thuds against the flue, and a weird growl, kinda like what I imagined a dragon would sound like, if they were real. Dust flew, and the pile collapsed.

There was a boom, and the chimney exploded near the bottom, sending fragments of bricks and junk flying all over the room.

“Ho ho ho!” The Santa Claus monster roared. He was big and red, eyes and hair as white as snow, with a big, undulating gut (filled with the souls of the damned, or so they said), and a nose that seemed to glow crimson above a maw full of needle thin teeth. “Merry Killmas!”

“Cover your ears,” Momma said, before pulling the trigger on the shotgun. The noise was impossibly loud, and I could feel it in my chest as the shot ripped half of Santa’s head clean off, splattering gore around the room. Weirdly enough, it smelled like cinnamon.

His body slumped to the floor. “Well, at least that’s over for another year,” Momma said, pulling out the spent shell.

I don’t get why people ever liked Christmas. Maybe it used to be different.

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