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Post by osnafrank on Nov 12, 2021 16:43:36 GMT
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Post by wolf on Nov 14, 2021 22:26:35 GMT
By the wolf :Chapter 1'The Town and The House'"Eat drink and be merry..."
- Epicurus the Greek philosopher, also found in Corinthians 15:32
and used by William Shakespeare as well.
 The Town. This is Castor Point. Dank, dreary place. Almost all of the residents, cheerless, morose and sullen. It always seemed that times were relentlessly trying for everyone, constantly one hardship or tragedy after another. Christmas was coming again, wouldn't be too long now. A handful of people in the town stayed positive and optimistic, ever hopeful that things would eventually turn around. It was a very small handful though. Wood was one of them. Every Christmas he would say the same sort of things, "Maybe this is the year it will be different, and get better."
Wood Jameson stepped out of 'The Blake House', to it's massive front porch, closing the heavy oaken door behind him quietly. He stood in the cold night air for a moment, and looked out over the town lights. Scattered among them were the sporadic and sparse homes sporting the Season's colorful lights. Some of the glowings flashed, others did not. Few and far between, most hastily thrown up with little rhyme or reason. Parents in town tried at least. Hanging lights for children who begged for Holiday looks, even if it didn't much feel like Christmas. The vast majority of the mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, merely endured. Wishing for all the hubbub and humbug to be over as quickly as possible.
The walk to the main drag of town wasn't a long one. The narrow road leading there, went through the trees of 'The Hill' pretty much the way the crows flew. 10 minutes and Wood would be down it to his destination, the local watering hole named 'The Tank'. Wood had only 2 friends in Castor Point. First was lovely Bethany Frame, the bartender there. She was one of the brighter personalities around, and was about the same age as Wood. Second was Jack Marvin. Miraculously strong, mean Vietnam Vet. Bearer of 2 Purple Hearts, who never failed to have a Lucky Strike between his lips. Jack, who never took crap from anyone, had an extremely rough exterior. But like Wood and Bethany, he had a good patient heart underneath the surliness and hardness. Jack's seen it all, and nothing surprises or scares him. Not even the small shadowy thing that he sometimes glimpsed following Wood around. That thing had come out of the house with Wood tonight, tagging along on his walk.
Blake House, on top of The Hill, and it's inhabitants…. The 37 year old Wood was one of them, as well as his grandmother. Wood was abandoned on her doorstep at the age of 2 by his worthless mother, right after her husband had abandoned them both. He loved his grandmother, and was devoted to her. She was all he had, and she used that to her advantage at every turn.
His grandmother was Agatha Oliver, the extraordinarily well preserved 80 year old owner of 'Blake House'. The last of her 3 husbands had bought it for her, as well as many other things. Unbeknownst to Wood, and most of Castor Point's populace, one of those things was 'The Tank' (and some other businesses). Though quite old, she was remarkably fast moving and healthy. A striking woman, still very attractive, with a shock of thick long white hair. She managed to hide many things from Wood, and a lot things he turned his eyes away from, refusing to see in and about her. Agatha was as cold and evil hearted, as she was beautiful, in her best years. She was not a witch, but consorted with, consulted and used witches in the past. She was wealthy after having 3 husbands and killing them, taking their money and properties.
Last of the living residents of Blake House was Agatha's Imp....the shadowy dark, small thing, that Jack sometimes thought he saw. An evil servant of Agatha's, that she (years ago) had a witch summon. She learned how to capture and control it. Mostly it stayed preoccupied with spying, harming, and causing ire for townspeople, on Agatha's capricious whims and commands. Of course, one of it's functions was to keep watch on her grandson. Agatha didn't want him getting too close to anyone who could possibly take him away from her. Bethany was one of her concerns in this area.
The other inhabitants of the house were 4 ghosts that surrounded the grandmother. They were of no bother to Agatha, she had an ability to tune them out whenever it pleased her. She fed off of their miseries, that was one of the things that kept her in such good shape. She was an ‘emotional vampire’.
Jacob Calders, the oldest ghost. He was the one that eternally defied and sometimes confounded Agatha. He liked to go to her at 2 and 3 o'clock in the morning and sit in the armchair in her bedroom, pounding his wooden peg leg on the floor, until she set the imp to chasing him out. Veteran of the Revolutionary war, he was discharged because of the lost leg. Jacob had murdered a man on the ground that Blake house was built on, and had taken the land for his own.
Mike Nelson, former lover of Agatha's, who murdered her 2nd husband for her. He had been enchanted by the woman (who was more than 20 years his senior at the time) in more ways than one. She tired of Mike, and ended up killing him herself, so she could pursue husband 3.
Deirdre Lufton, Agatha's youngest by her first husband. A suicide, who killed herself after her husband's suicide. Constant weeper was Deirdre, who suspected her mother had secretly driven her husband to offing himself, for rejecting the old woman's advances.
The last and least of the ghosts was Little Marty Gabbage, all of 6 years old. Poor sweet child, Agatha killed and ate him for Christmas Eve dinner one year. She was disappointed when she discovered that the feast had not lessened her age, as she had hoped. Little Marty never had anything to say, he remained ever frightened and much of the time chased around by the terrifying imp when it was in the house. The rest of the time he clung to Deirdre. Together they wept...very often. Mike loves Deirdre, but Agatha maintained control over him, continuing to use him for entertainment.
Nicholas of Patara and Myra, in hidden ice cave home close to the North Pole, favorite of his reindeer, Flaxen, was with him. Together they gazed into his scrying pool, a gift from the cousin Xavier. Nicholas, known by many names in places all over the world, did not have a workshop with happy little elves making toys for good little boys and girls. Nor did he have tiny reindeer carrying him to deliver those toys in one night. What he did have?…A herd of giant magical reindeer he loved. There was always one, or more, to take him places if he wanted to go out. At certain times he would choose a place or some person to visit and covertly help, or bestow gifts upon. As he had done in his former mortal life.
On his way to the street, that The Tank knew as home, Wood passed some front yards. Sparkling in the moonlight; misshapen, rather eerie snowmen stared out at him from behind chain link corrals. He reached the bell rigged barroom door. It sang out. Entering, he saw Jack in his spot, and Bethany behind the bar pouring him a shot of Jim Beam.
"Hey guys. Going alright tonight?"
he asked, unbuttoning overcoat and stamping snow from Colorado hikers, that his grandmother had gotten for him the previous Christmas in 2020.
The shadowy imp scuttled past the back of Jack's barstool, with a sly and slithery rasp it scratchily let out,
"Frosty costly Jack Frost, you know the cost, you know the cost, you cold grim Jack Frosty."Jack thought he saw something dark dart behind his seat, and thought he heard the words, 'Jack...' and '...you know the cost'.
This particular taunt and torment was amusement for the imp, and it was of it's own creation. Agatha hadn't ordered it to plague this man. The imp did not like how Jack Marvin could almost see it at times. It was a taunt, that brought Jack's mind back to the hardest of time from his war. A time that weighed heavily on him after all these years.
Over his shoulder, Flaxen snuffled at Nicholas' ear, with soft, low mooing bugles in a questioning tone. Her Father reached up and stroked her velvet muzzle as he told her with a somewhat sad, broodingly contemplative voice,
"I don't know yet, Flaxy. Could happen that we will go out this year, I haven't decided yet. Let's keep watching. Mayhap be, that we see, a good reason for this place and people to have some hope for consolation. Then again...might be one of those years we should just watch, and let it be."
 (Illustrations : 1. Stock Image 2. by Wolfio Madgenius Productions
St.Nicholas bibliography in spoiler)
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Post by wolf on Nov 18, 2021 19:15:43 GMT
By edwardjohn :Chapter 2
'A Haunting Robbery'
"The robber gets there first."
- William Arbaugh
 A nondescript rental car from out of state suddenly stopped on a country road about a mile or so west of Castor Point. Out of the car came two men in overalls and balaclavas. They turned to their left, not yet saying anything, and stared at the base of The Hill, a forest jungle that had the Blake House as its shining beacon.
"A short hike and we’ll be there." The man that had done the driving said with sheer authority. "Get the stuff out of the back, will you?"Continuing to not say anything, the man did as bid; he went around the nondescript car and retrieved the driver’s duffle from the trunk, and gave it to the man he had travelled a great distance with.
"Hey," said the man to the retriever, putting a hand on his shoulder, "you alright? Say something."
"Yeah … everything’s fine, Mike. Well, as fine as can be considering what we’re about to do."
"What did we say about names? Didn’t I tell you that from the state border onwards, that we use our code names?"
"Come on, man, there’s nobody around …""That kind of thinking is a precursor to getting caught, Mr. Green. Believe me, I know. Now, what’s my name?"
"… Mr. Turquoise.""There you go." Mr. Green couldn’t tell because of the balaclava, but Mr. Turquoise was smiling.
"I take it we have to wear the balaclavas for the whole thing, even when we’re hiking?"
"Afraid so, Mr. Green. Now, come on; its not as far as it seems."
They made their way into the forest, beginning their uphill ascent.
"Remember," said Mr. Turquoise as they got further and further into the density of it all, "we talk in whispers from now on; once we reach the actual grounds of the house: we won’t talk at all, got that, Mr. Green?’
"Yes, Mr. Turquoise."
Whispering, Mr. Green asked: "Why the colour names? Why Mr. … then a colour."
"We can call each other anything; it doesn’t matter so long as we don’t use our real names."
"Isn’t that from a movie?"
"Huh?"
"A movie," said Mr. Green, ducking to miss a wayward branch, "one of those … what’s his name? Quentin Tarantino movies? What was it called? It wasn’t one of his newer ones …""Reservoir Dogs."
"Yes, that’s it, Reservoir Dogs! Now that you mention it, wasn’t that movie about a bunch of petty crooks like us?""They weren’t petty crooks, Mr. Green, they were bank robbers. Nor are we petty crooks."
"Come on, Mr. Turquoise, we’re about to steal from an old lady; that’s about as petty as it gets."
"She’s not the most liked person in town, if it’s any consolation."
"What do you mean?"
"I’ve done my research. About a decade or so back, a bunch of Native American’s brought a petition to state officials concerning the land that the Blake House is built upon. Turns out that it used to be a burial ground centuries before the first settlers arrived."
"What happened?"
"State officials couldn’t do a lot. The land and all houses built on it, had been in Agatha Blake’s family name since the Revolutionary War. This one changed hands a few times, but she eventually bought it back from a distant relation."
"Jeez, is that right?"
"Yep. A lot of the citizens of Castor Point banded with the natives; they didn’t care for the old woman, either; they wanted her gone. But … it was ultimately the old lady’s decision, and she’s still there …"
"Any other interesting facts about this chick?"
"Well, other than what you already know: that she’s rich as hell? Hmmm … oh yeah, you remember I mentioned the revolutionary war?""Yep.""Well, turns out that the Blakes were British loyalists; they had links to one of the big ports across the pond, I forget which one."
"Interesting.""And there’s also the old legend of Jacob Calders. He was a patriot that basically liberated the surrounding area from the British Army. He claimed the Blake Land and house after the war, claiming that Agatha’s ancestor had lost his rights to the place when they decided to side with the Brits. There’s those that say that Agatha’s ancestor was even murdered by Calders in a drunken rage, but there are others that say he was simply cast out."
"So how did the place return to the Blakes?"
"Well, that’s where it gets interesting. The daughter of Agatha’s ancestor, the one that was supposedly murdered by Calders, went on to marry Calders! But he later passed of mysterious circumstances afterwards. There are those that say he was poisoned. So Blake's daughter got it back."
"Oh man," said Mr. Green before going silent for a moment, "that’s creepy as hell …"
"Most certainly. Come on, we’re nearly there."
They came out into a narrow road.
"Which way?" Mr. Green enquired.
Mr. Turquoise cleared his throat."If Google is right," he gestured left,"that way leads into town. And this way,"he gestured right, "leads to the Blake House. Come on, its not far."
Towards the Blake House they went.
"Jeez …"That was Mr. Turquoises response when they neared the old place.
"This place is insane …""Very Victorian. Anyway, how are we getting in?""You remember when I said we would cease to talk, Mr. Green?"
Mr. Green said that he did.
"This is that point. Simply follow me."
They went around to the left of the house, Mr. Turquoise leading. Checking windows as they went, wondering if any would be susceptible to a jimmy. But they didn’t have any luck in that regard, they were all secure. They continued in the direction that they had been going; they soon came to a back door, at the southern quadrant of the old house. They checked the knob; it was locked, but Mr. Turquoise was sure it would go with a budge. He set his duffle on the grass floor and searched for his trusty crowbar. Once retrieved, he struck hard at the bolt; it crumbled.
Into a kind of kitchen area they arrived. It was then that they heard a weeping child’s voice. Forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to talk, Mr. Green said:
"What the hell was that?"
"Quiet …"
They stood there for a moment, rooted."Mr. Turquoise," said Mr. Green, "there aren’t any kids here, are there?"
They heard the child’s voice again. Retreat was on their minds.
* * *
Back at The Tank, Jack Marvin had a proposition for Wood Jameson. "Spend Christmas at my place!? The offer goes for you as well, Bethany." Returning to Jameson, he went on: "You don’t want to spend another Christmas at that place … do you?"
"I wish I could," said Agatha’s grandson, "but I’ve got to think of my grandmother, Jack."
"That’s right," whispered the Imp. "That’s right, Woody boy, you’ll think of your grandmother. Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes! Think! Think! Think! Of your grandmother! Yes, you will!"
"Well", said Marvin with a smile, heading to the door, "If you change your mind, you know where to find me. Be seeing you, folks."
"Be seeing you, Jack" they echoed.
"You be heading back then, Wood?" Bethany enquired.
"Yeah … you going to take Jack up on his offer?"
"I’m thinking about it, yeah. You should do the same."
"I’ll give it another think. Anyway, that’s me heading away, Bethany.""See you, Wood."
It was snowing when Jameson left The Tank. He took a moment to admire it before heading back to his grandmother’s place.
 (Illustrations by Wolfio Madgeniuses)
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Post by wolf on Nov 20, 2021 14:47:09 GMT
By docpain2 :
Chapter 3
'A Stone in My Shoe'
"Just as men are sometimes believed to become vampires temporarily during their lifetime, so, according to one stream of tradition, do living men become Kallikantzaroi."
- 2011, Clement A. Miles, The Christmas Troll and Other Yuletide Stories
 Back at the house, our two would be burglars were stopped stone cold in their tracks. Mr. Turquoise mentally reviewing what he knew about the house, Mr. Green wondering how quickly he could get the hell out the door. The child’s crying stopped, but now there was a flurry of footsteps all about the ground floor of the home, then suddenly silence…
They briefly looked at each other in the ‘what the hell’ kind of way and moved on.
Mr. Turquoise knew the story of the stone of Kallikantzaroi. The stone smuggled out of Greece several centuries ago and ended up here with generations of Blakes guarding it and whatever secrets it possessed. He didn’t care about that, what he cared about was the value and that weird guy who hired him in his fancy car and loud suit.
They started creeping through the hallway trying to think of where to go first. Mr. Green suggested the basement, so down they went.
Nicholas continued to watch. He knew about the stone but never thought much of it since he knew to was sequestered and out of reach. That made it no danger to the world, but now after all this time somebody was interested in it, not a good sign for the home team.
Around the time our crack team of robbers were making their way into the basement, Wood Jameson was walking on Main Street and decided to detour, thinking to himself that walking in the crisp wintery air would help clear his mind. Wood had a lot on his mind, and to him it seemed that whenever he was at home his thoughts became clouded and lacked focus. He considered this for several minutes, but again, even thinking of the house was difficult.
Back at the Blake house, Mr. Turquoise in a whispered tone told Mr. Green that he was surprised that the basement appeared so clean and modernized compared to what they had already seen of the Blake home.
Mr. Green mentioned that it had most likely been redone several times due to flooding,
"These old houses flood all the time" he told his partner.
As they continued the search, they felt easier in the basement with the lessened chances of prying eyes, or ears. What they had not counted on was the sound of footsteps going both up then down the basement stairs. They looked at first, thinking they were done, but there was nobody there.
On one side of the basement there was a door, they opened it and were surprised to see a sub-cellar. Neither one of them had ever seen one before and assumed it was some kind of bomb shelter left over from the cold war or something.
Again, they went downstairs, and they both were shocked at the brief sight of Deidre Lufton. Just standing there the apparition slowly faded, they again looked at each other in silence and moved on.
They were surprised to see varied types of sporting equipment in the lower basement. These included croque mallets and several bowling-ball bags.
“I guess they are the sporty types,” Mike aka Mr. Turquoise said to his partner.
Now convinced there was nothing in the basement of interest they started heading back up. Jake, aka Mr. Green stopped at the stairs, looked at Mike and asked;
"What the hell was that, down there?"
Mike's response was delayed, but he said “maybe” it was the lighting.
“NO” Jake replied, "that was a woman, you saw her, and you saw her vanish just like I did." He continued “This place is bad karma, we gotta get out while we can.”
Nicholas of Patara and Myra with Flaxen at his side knew that their time was coming, and preparations needed to be made. It had been more than fifty years since he had ventured so far from home. Only leaving with his small team of reindeer in dire emergencies. This one though, this one was beyond dire. Not only was Christmas in jeopardy, but the fate of not only our world, but other worlds hung in the balance.
“Tomorrow you’ll go out and scout for us Flaxy, it’s a long trip but you will travel light this time around” Nicholas said to Flaxen as he walked her to her warm stable for the night.
Nicholas went back inside and woke Ioanna, telling her everything,
“You’re going to have to make that phone call, I know you don’t like using that thing, but it has to be done. And after all this time, I wonder if there will be anyone to pick up.”
Ioanna responded with a sigh. It had been decades since she had contact with the outside world. Of course, decades in hers, Nicholas' and Flaxy’s world were maybe a year or two, maybe less.
On Main Street Wood was surprised to see the local volunteer fire company out so early in the holiday season. Their trucks adorned with the expected holiday cheer which included a pudgy firefighter who lost a bet, so he wore the Santa suit. Still, the bright lights and the crisp air were good for Wood, it reinvigorated him. Again, he went back to his thoughts of the house and how his senses there always seem dulled.
He walked on, slipping down Crouch End Road this time. Here the lights seemed to come to life, even the snow seemed whiter. Wood passed a home that he knew very well. His old girlfriend once lived here, and at night they’d sit on the steps holding hands and watching the sky. That was a long time ago, his grandmother made sure that Wood broke up with her before 'it got too serious.' After that, Wood stayed to himself for the most part, an occasional romance, but he always kept a respectful distance and vowed he would never get serious again, at least not until his grandmother passed.
Once again at the house the would-be Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid made their way to the second floor. As they climbed the stairs a heaviness overcame them both. Together but separately, they began to get nauseous and a slight pounding behind their eyes.
“Uh, Mike, we really gotta get out of here now,” Jake said.
“What did I say about names, Mr. Green?”
“F**k that,” I can’t even breathe right now!”
With that Jake turned around heading down the stairs. Mike stopped at the top and last step, thought about it and followed Jake out the back.
In the woods they stopped and tried to put together everything they saw and heard in the house. It seemed as if once they left the house and the farther, they got away, the heaviness slowly lifted. Mike started to tell some of the back story on stone of Kallikantzaroi.
“Look Jake, all I know is that this thing is supposed to be part of a bigger stone that has long been lost, I hear that the keeper of the stone is both blessed and cursed at the same time.”
“So, what the hell is your buyer going to do with it?”
“I didn’t ask, and I don’t care, all I know is he’s paying big cash for what should be an easy gig."
Nicholas continued to watch long after Ioanna went back to bed. If only these two guys knew what they had gotten themselves into he thought. But would they even care? The bigger question is once they had the black stone, what would they do with it. It had been known to enchant people even with minimal contact. Proximity is enough in most cases, and Nicholas recognized Mike and Jake's “heaviness” as an early sign of exposure.
Sleep escaped Ioanna, so she came back out.
“Alright, I’m going to make this call and keep my fingers and toes crossed” she said.
She sat down at the ancient switchboard and began dialing. One, two, three rings.
“Liberty travel agency, Dave Duncan speaking” was the reply on the other end.
Ioanna, slightly shocked gave the code. “I’m looking to book a trip to Santa Mira California.”
Brief silence on the other end. Then the reply on the other end,
“I hear that’s really nice farm country.”Ioanna relaxed having received to correct response, then she went about the business at hand. Explaining everything down to the last detail.
Back in town, Wood started heading back home. Mild dread was creeping up on him, but he longed for sleep as much as he did for peace. As he headed up the hill, this time coming from the far side of town he thought he heard voices in the woods. In this crisp air, every sound especially voices carried a long way. Wood chuckled to himself thinking that now he thought he was a gunslinger like his friend Jack.
He continued up the hill, the voices (if they existed) seemed to fade. As he approached the old house, subtle dread washed over him......
(Illustrations by Wolfio Madgenius Productions
The Kallikantzaroi bibliography in spoiler)
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Post by wolf on Nov 24, 2021 15:28:03 GMT
By JB darkharbinger :
Chapter 4
'The Hunt Begins'
“Old gods do new jobs.”
– Terry Pratchett
 As the drama began to condense around the Blake House and the lines of destiny crossed each other like a tapestry woven by unseen hands, two figures stood under a dark sky with unknown stars.
“It has gone too far this time,” one of the figures said. “You heard the phone call.”
“It has always been too far, but now we have no choice.”They passed their hands over a strange rune carved into the living rock at their feet. It looked like a black diamond with two lower case L’s sticking out of the bottom. Their heat and movement caused it to glow, but it was hungrier than that. They dripped a small bit of blood upon it.
“Will he…will It come? One of the figures asked.
“He is already coming. But when he gets there, he will be…different.”
Their answer was in the heavens. The dark sky lit up with an aura that was green and red…
--------- Summoning his courage, Wood picked up the pace. The voices grew louder, but no more distinct for it. His grandmother wasn’t social by nature and even when she entertained guests it was never at this hour of the night. That meant trouble.
But was it his trouble? As he ran Wood reflected that his feelings for his grandmother was mixed, he loved her, but hated her. He longed to be free of her, yet he depended upon her like no one else. If there was trouble, then he had to see to it. But what had she done now?
The snow was starting to pick up, covering the world in with. Wood had to shield his eyes occasionally from the down pour until he was well under the trees. Time seemed strangely warped, like he was moving in slow motion. He hadn’t had that much to drink, so what was going on? There was something wrong with the sky, but he couldn’t figure out just what. The snow seemed to have a strange glow and texture that made him want to go back under the trees. But he couldn’t, he had to see what was going on. He started towards an outline in the downpour before him. Was there someone standing there? Sure, enough there was.
“This is private property,” Wood remarked. “You need to leave.”
“No, Wood, you should leave,” the figured remarked, sounding worried and oddly jolly at the same time. “Things have gotten bad here and they will get worse.”
----------
Mike managed to catch up to Jake. “We have to go back.”
“I don’t like this. Something is wrong with this place.”
“That doesn’t matter. We were paid. My client doesn’t like paying for nothing.”
“Then we give the money back. That house is too much.”
“It doesn’t work that way and you know it.”
Their world was one of delivery and pay. If they didn’t deliver, they would pay. So, without much aplomb, the two would be thieves went slowly back the way they came. The Blake House seemed to lean towards them greedily, as if it knew they were coming back.
“What does this stone do?”
“I don’t know,” Mike remarked. “Probably for the best.”
It was suddenly very chilly inside. Whatever heat they had felt earlier had decided to go some place else, leaving the house to be as cold as a tomb.
“When you start to feel weird just think of something else,” Mike suggested. “Punch yourself in the leg, anything you need to distract yourself.”
“That is stupid.” Jake grumbled. But was it? Already the heaviness was coming back, so in desperation he hit himself in the leg. It worked a little.
“Once we get the stone of Kallikantzaroi, we’ll run right the hell out of here,” Mike whispered softly. “Then its fun in the sun for a while.”In the cold, dark house, the sun seemed a thousand miles away. “No, I’m going to do one thing else before we leave.”
“What is that?”
“I am going to burn this house to the ground.” Jake answered savagely.
“Oh, I don’t think I can allow that.”
The two men looked up and saw Agatha Oliver standing at the top of the steps. Words could not describe her beauty. Men had lusted for her in ways that Helen of Troy would have envied. But her beauty was cold, colder than the house or the snow outside.“You are two very stupid men,” she said brightly. “You should have been halfway down the road by now. I suppose I have to do this myself.”
----------
“Who are you?” Wood demanded.
The figure didn’t answer at first. “I have more names than I care to recall. Some call Nicholas.”
“Did my grandmother call you here? I heard voices.”
“You really should go; it has gone too far now. Your grandma is a bad woman, you know this, but she had a job. That was why she could do as she pleased.”
“What are you going on about?”“You wouldn’t understand,” the figure answered.
Something about his voice was less jolly now. Before, Wood could have imagined the voice belonging to a merry fat man, now it belonged to someone much older. “There is a great danger to the world. I have to fix it.”
“Fix what?”
The figure emerged out of the snow. It looked like Father Christmas if he’d been forced to make his clothing from wolf skins. “I said leave. I haven’t gone back this far in a long time. I wasn’t a nice person in the old days.”
Wood shook his head. “This is my house; I’m not going anywhere.”Nicholas nodded. He reached out and struck Wood across the face with a hand, knocking the young man to the ground.
“Consider yourself lucky, boy.”
Dazed and bloody, Wood looked up and saw a reindeer approach the figure. Only it wasn’t exactly a reindeer, it too seemed to be in the process of becoming something else…
---------- “We want the stone of Kallikantzaroi,” Jake demanded. “Where is it?”
Agatha smiled. It wasn’t a pretty smile, it was full of menace and teeth. “I can only imagine who sent you here. You’ll tell me in time, but right now I think we’ll have some sport.”Jake pulled out a small stub nosed pistol. “I don’t like things to messy, I’m not a fan of violence. But I came here for something, and you will give it to me.”
“A big man with a little gun,” Agatha snickered. “Not my first time.”
“Listen lady…”
“No, you listen. You are meddling with things you couldn’t possibly understand. There are rules, you little worms, and your employer has broken them. The ghosts tried to scare you away, but you were just too stubborn to run away. A pity, really.”
“Put that away,” Mike told Jake. “The last thing we need is a pile of bodies…”
“Bodies are easy,” Agatha interrupted. “I have buried a few in my time. They go in holes, wells, pig pens, lime pits, oh it doesn’t really matter in the end. No one will look for you.”
“Funny,” Jake said, slowly approaching her. His movements were slow and heavy, his heart beating fast in his chest. “Funny like a crutch.”
“If you tamper with the stone of Kallikantzaroi, you will regret it.”
“That’s our business,” Mike said. “Now where is it…” A blinding light filled the space, causing Mike and Jake to shield their eyes. When they could see again, they were surprised to see a huge figure between them and Agatha. The figure looked like Santa, a very rustic Santa, but instead of two bright eyes under bushy brows, there was only one red eye. The other was covered with a patch. Instead of a reindeer he sat upon an enormous horse with eight legs.
“Who the hell are you?” Jake demanded. This was beyond anything he had done, and no amount of money would be enough to deal with it.
“An old god doing an old job,” Agatha muttered, for the first time sounding concerned. “Why have you come here, Lord Odin?”
“The laws of Yule are close to broken. If the stone of Kallikantzaroi is rejoined, then the worlds will suffer for it. You have failed at your task.”“Hardly,” Agatha snapped. “These two will never see the stone.”
Odin frowned. “I see much, old hag. It is time.”
He lifted an old horn and set it to his lips. Agatha winced and drew back. Once it sounded the Wild Hunt would begin, something that hadn’t been on earth in a thousand years......
(Illustrations by Wolfio Madgenius Productions
'Santa and Odin bibliography in spoiler)
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Post by wolf on Nov 30, 2021 21:00:27 GMT
By diobolic :Chapter 5
'Biding Time'"Your job is not done when you have determined your goal.
You must also plan for and determine how it is to be accomplished.
Goals and plans are meaningless if they cannot be executed successfully!"
- Gary Ryan Earlier that day Jack Marvin was drowning his sorrows with his good friend Jim Bean down at The Tank. 35 years of sorrows to the day. And he was doing something very uncharacteristic of his mean and reserved disposition. It wasn’t just sorrows he was dealing with, he was also building up courage. He had found his way to Castor Point some seven odd years back, and was pouring his heart out to Bethany. What he told her was like a two-by-four to the side of the head. Jack had changed his name from Jameson to Marvin, after abandoning wife and two year old son. Jack laid it on her he was actually Wood Jameson’s estranged father. Jack had left his wife and son after discovering Agatha planned on killing him. And she would do it too, as she had in the past. He knew his wife would never be able to leave the clutches of her powerful mother, although deep in her heart she wanted nothing more than to escape. The only way he could insure their safety was for him to completely disappear. Years later he discovered his wife had gone insane, abandoned their child to Agatha (who had filled Wood's head with lies about his mother) and now resided in the Hope Valley loony bin, half way across the country. Jack had secretly reconnected with his son, and now had come to realize if he didn’t do something soon Wood would be following in his grandmother’s steps, based on the subtleties of their discussions. Her grip and influence was soon to be complete. Today he would finally atone for his sins, or die trying. Which was a very real possibility. Jack wanted someone to know the story in order to tell Wood, in case he never got the chance. “I’m gonna kill that bitch Agatha and end all the misery.” He had said it to himself ten thousand times, but never had drawn the courage… until today. Bethany was shocked, but privately delighted because she knew there would be no chance for any possible happiness with Wood, who she pined for, until his grandmother was gone. And the town might be finally be rid of the suffering that had held a grip on it for decades. Bethany heard all the whispers and stories of the mansion and it’s hateful overseer since she was a little girl. Jack wanted Bethany to know so she could console Wood when his deed was done if he couldn’t. He felt he wouldn’t survive what was to be done. The sainted Father of Christmas had Agatha believing he was Odin. There was no need to involve the All-Father, the crone wasn’t as formidable as she thought, but mendacity would help throw her off her game. Nicholas' horn boomed. He reached down and patted his Flaxen heartily on the side of her massive neck, he was proud of her impressive impersonation of Sleipnir, Odin’s trusted steed. When Ioanna’s enchanted switchboard had called out, it only took the 3 rings and Hades met Heimdal in a hidden dimension, Cerberus was with him. It was the lord of Tartarus , who answered her. The Powers that be worked together to protect all of the worlds. From the greats of Olympus and Aesgaard, to the most humble and modest of the saints. It was Cerberus who answered the horn's siren call. He could sniff anything out. The sound of thunderous galloping approached, and the great dog burst through the front doors of Blake House, reducing them to splinters. He flew past Agatha on the wide stairs, and broke into her hiding room the scent led him to, tearing everything in his path apart. On finding the stone he returned to Nicholas’ side and he commanded Cerberus, "Deliver it to your master in the underworld to hide away and guard".  Mike and Jake, the Mr. Color brothers in crime, had seen enough. The hired pair were pawns of a power-hungry unknown, not unlike Agatha herself. No stupid stone and no fun in the sun was worth the hell on earth that was about to befall them. They needed some form of safe passage out of the unworldly grotesque situation facing them. That was when a shocked and dazed Wood had finally got up the hill and entered Blake House. "Grandmother!? What's happening!?“Grab the grandson,” Mike instructed Jake. Jake unsheathed a large knife and put it to Wood’s neck, Mike grabbed his arm, twisting it behind Wood’s back in a way that forced him to comply if he didn’t want his arm to break like a twig. They led Wood out of the mansion in a hurried manner that stunned a distracted Agatha, too focused on the threat Nicholas posed and the loss of her protection the Stone of Kallikantzaroi had provided her these many years. Only the confines of the dark Blake House mansion could protect her now. The trio had made their way out to the trees, when the imp jumped out from the cover of underbrush and darkness. It scurried in-between their legs causing them all to go tumbling forward. Wood hit his head on the rock and lay sprawled over it like a rag doll, unconscious. Suddenly, Jack Marvin appeared as out of nowhere, picked up the Bowie knife and placed it, both hands firmly grasping the handle, over Wood’s heart where he lay , slightly piercing his skin. Agatha could feel the pain of the knife piercing flesh and the sensation of warm blood starting to trickle out.‘NOOOOOO!’ Screamed Agatha."You!”“I know who you are,I should have killed you when I had the chance!" Agatha was in tune with Wood's psyche, her protegee. She was in final transition, as she knew her worldly time on this earth was close to an end. With the power of witchcraft bequeathed her, the only way to escape an eternity in hell was to transfer her spirit into flesh and blood of an offspring. An amoral symbiotic relationship that theoretically could extend her spirit forever, growing more powerful with each transference. Jack knew instinctively his only hope to save his son was to lure Agatha from the protection of Black House. As she came to save her grandson for herself, Jack would plunge the knife, dipped in her family blood, into her dark indurate heart. She could only be killed by one of her own, or parts thereof, he had discovered from the brief time he had with Agatha’s daughter Trista, gleaning from her family secrets. Agatha raced though remnants of the doors, down the steps and past Nicolas. Nicholas made no move to dissuade her. Well-laid plans were coming to fruition. Her stride never wavered and she lunged at Jack, evil long nails, more like talons, extended and aimed for his neck, piercing his left jugular in the process. . With his last breath Jack grabbed hold of Agatha and fell backwards into death’s grip, holding the knife with handle placed firmly against his chest. As she fell forward on top of jack, the knife laden with Woods blood pierced her heart as the two met the hallowed ground of native lore. Mr. Turquoise and Mr. Green took that opportunity to flee deeper into the trees and get back to their car. Nicholas watched on, letting them go. The four ghosts watched in delight from the upstairs windows knowing their torment was nearing their end. Agatha began to stumble back up to the mansion, in hopes she could summon the witches she had consorted with for many years to somehow save her from a fate of eternal misery, compounded by all the suffering she had inflicted on others.Karma exists in this world and the next. As she passed Nicholas she glared and cursed him, weeping that this was all his doing. He gave her a crooked smile and responded in anticipation of her last breath,"Those that protect and watch over God’s favored, have been biding their time until knowing it was right for you to expire and join all the other carcasses strewn across the wasteland of your barren soul." And for a little guilty added pleasure Nicholas brought the house down around her, entombing her in that which helped to harbor her baneful existence. The gas ignited and what was once Blake House burned, leaving nothing but the shell of the fireplace behind. It removed all traces of the blight that had descended on the town for decades, and brought opportunity for the land to be returned to the Native American community. Wood and the town were saved, ghosts could finally rest. Everything started to look up for everyone. Everyone but the imp that is, who was devilishly instructed by the good saint to find and torment the two hapless burglar's distant unknown employer. New beginnings...  THE END
(Illustrations : 1. Stock Image 2. by Wolfio Madgenius Productions)
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Post by wolf on Dec 5, 2021 2:11:46 GMT
EPILOGUE
Part I By JB :
"I've lived a life that's full
I've travelled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way"
- Frank Sinatra “So, what’s the plan?”Mike turned to look at his partner in crime. But wait what crime? They did little more than assault and trespass, their mission was a failure.“There is no plan. We failed.”Jake frowned as he got into the car. In their line of business, you didn’t get a pat on the back and a consolatory word if you failed. Your reputation was everything.“Should we go back?”Mike laughed. It was harsh and bitter, like a cigarette too old to smoke. “Be my guest. I’m done with this nonsense.”“It was your nonsense to begin with.”Mike nodded. “Yes, I know it was. And I’ll deal with the repercussions. You’ll still get paid.” That should have been enough Jake, but it wasn’t. “Did you not see that cluster f*** back there? I want answers, not money. What was that all about? What were we even doing there?”There was really only one answer Mike could give. The hollow bang was muffled by the car and the snow outside. Mike got out, drug Jake’s body from the car, and left him in an undignified sprawl. He then got back in and started driving again. Normally he hated violence, if only for the fact that it came with paperwork. But Jake carried no identification and would take a while to run through the system when he was found. The way the snow was falling, that would be a while. By that time natural predation and the elements would have done their job. It was sad though. In order to help him think about something else, Mike turned on the radio. Only the AM stations were coming in and at this time of night it was all talk shows. It was all controversial arguing and aliens, until he found something on the deep end of the dial. It was a preacher quoting from the book of Job:“Have you entered the storehouses of the snow, or have you seen the storehouses of the hail?”Looking through his window, Mike was certain he had. The preacher went on saying that the storms were God’s way of erasing previous work and starting over. There was something to that, maybe he’d start over. Tonight, was beyond anything even he’d had to do, and he’d come too close to dying to make that comfortable. Of course, he couldn’t just walk away, not without giving his report. Mike punched a few buttons on his hands-free phone, turned down the radio, and then waited for a response as the car ate miles and miles of snow-covered ground.“Did you get it?” A slightly sensual female voice inquired.“That is a negative,” he sighed.“There were complications that arose that you never commented on.”Silence on the line for a moment.“This is disappointing news.”“For which you have my condolences.”“There are some that will not be happy about this.”“I’ll refund my pay,”Mike remarked.“I am done with this.”“You know that isn’t how this works…”He knew, but at this point he didn’t care.“Got kind of tired packing and unpacking.Town to town up and down the dial,”he replied in a surprisingly mellow tenor voice.“Maybe you and me were never meant to be.Just maybe think of me once in awhile…” The phone clicked into silence. Smirking, Mike turned the radio back up. The preacher was quoting Job:“From whose womb did the ice come forth, and who has given birth to the frost of heaven?” Before Mike could answer, if he could answer such a question, he saw something in the snow ahead of him. A semi-truck had flipped over, blocking all the lanes of the road.“Sh!t,” he remarked, trying to slow down. Neither the road nor the snow seemed bothered with letting him do this. Forward momentum and gravity took over and before he knew it, the air bags had deployed, leaving him battered and bruised, but still alive. He fumbled out of the car and dropped into snow that was nearly elbow deep at this point. What was he going to do now? The car was rented, but it had Jake’s blood all over it and a number of illicit items in the trunk. Mike was careful with prints, but there was no way they couldn’t connect him, since he was right here at the scene. The universe is fortunate in odd ways. Mike didn’t have to worry about the cops, because a dark figure jumped down from on top of the car. It was a large figure that was festively dressed with goat shaped legs. Some people called it the Krampus.“You have been naughty.” It remarked. And with that, Mike saw no more.Part II By Wolf :"It's been a hard days night!
And I been working like a dog!"
- The Beatles
Nicholas, himself again in appearance, had watched the would-be thieves run off thinking to himself, "Be careful bad boys. There be strange and dangerous things roaming the woods and roads on nights like this." He was sure that before the night was through, they both would be eaten or worse by something in the dark. The Saint then looked toward the ghosts.Mike and Deirdre were arm in arm, and little Marty had Deirdre's hand. Jack was right behind them. The quartet happily waved to him, before they all disappeared into a lovely soft bluish white light. The last ghost sat upon a rock gazing at the wreck and ruin of his home, smoking a pipe and drinking from a bottle of something. With narrowed eyes and a harsh tone Nicholas asked him,"What about you Calders? Going into your light?"The unrepentant looked at him smiling,"No. Not me. My light is fiery red,I'll be staying here as long as I can."Father Christmas nodded and looked away. At his feet Wood was waking up. He reached down, taking a hand and pulled him to is feet. Brushing him off he told him,"Boy! The next time someone so much bigger and older than yourself tells you to do something, just do it damnit! Do not argue."Dazed and confused Wood mumbled,"...okay..." Nicholas put his hand on his head blessing him. Wood's concussed head cleared and his split bloody lip healed instantly. With a softer, voice he went on,"You go to your Bethany.
Go get your 'Buffalo Gal'. She has comfort and consolation for you as well as a long Christmas present for you to listen to."Wood smiled to him, "Yes sir. Thank you." This time the much younger man did exactly as he was told. All was done now and he and Flaxen were ready to move on to whatever came next. Nicholas looked up at the sound of rustling wings. Two Ravens flew above them. One carried a golden scroll in his claws, the other yodeled a crackling greeting."Hu Hu! Huginn and Muninn!" he called out, wondering if his old friend was displeased with his earlier disguise. He took the scroll as the Ravens alit and perched on each of his shoulders. He opened the scroll, that was tied with a bright red ribbon. He held the shiny ribbon up to the greedy eyed pair, each took an end of it up in the beaks, flying off together."Godspeed home, birdies!"then glancing at the scroll he went on,"Oh! It's from Frigg, Flaxy!"The message read :"Ioanna called.Get home QUICKLY!She wants to go out."P.S."...Odin and Zeus are drunk again,but both say, 'Good job, Brother!'Love you Nick, nice work.Friggy" He turned to Flaxen, "Ohhh...your Mother wants to got out for the first time in YEARS! Where should I take her? It's got to be a nice place Flax, what do you think?"She replied with a question,"Floooorrrruh?"Nicholas looked at her wide eyed,"Gods Noooo! Remember the last time!?The paranoid 'Farmer'?...who thought we were a drone photographing that lovely 'greenery' of his,and shot at us!?" Flaxen moo-bugled to him, shaking her great antlers back and forth in the air with glee, squint eyed she chortled so hard she snorted out snot! Her loving Father had to throw back his head laughing, as he remembered."Yes you did! Right on his head, he's STILL wondering what kind of Pterodactyl could have done that. That was priceless, Cheech and Chong couldn't have done better!" Flaxen laughed more, nodding her vehement agreement! They both finally stopped their giggling. When he was safely strapped in the saddle they took off. Nicholas couldn't help it, joyfully he bellowed out,"...On Tavo! On Chuy!..."Flaxen never faltered in her galloping through the air as she and Father laughed so hard and happily their sides ached and they both had snot snorting from their cold noses! As for the rest of Castor Point...with Agatha and the Stone finally gone,things started to get far better than Wood or anyone else there had dared hope to imagine. Everyone began to notice little things at first. Like on Christmas Eve, some how even the town Christmas tree looked brighter, more lush and beautiful..... 
(Illustrations by Wolfio Madgenius Productions
Bibliography for Part I's song lyrics and The Krampus,
Part II's 'Huginn and Muninn' 'Frigg' and 'Tavo and Chuy' in spoiler)
The Krampus :
Krampus, in central European popular legend, a half-goat, half-demon monster that punishes misbehaving children at Christmastime. He is the devilish companion of St. Nicholas. Krampus is believed to have originated in Germany, and his name derives from the German word Krampen, which means “claw".
Mike's song lyrics :
Huginn and Muninn :
Spies and messengers for Odin.
In Norse mythology, Huginn (Old Norse: [ˈhuɣenː]; "thought") and Muninn (O.N.: [ˈmunenː]; "memory" or "mind") are a pair of ravens that fly all over the world, Midgard, and bring information to the god Odin.
Frigg :
The Queen of Asgard and the highest of the goddesses. Her home is called Fensalir, which means “hall of the marshlands”. She is married to Odin and her father is called Fjorgynn. ... Frigg is also the goddess of marriage and her name comes from the verb “fríja” = to love.
Chuy and Tavo :
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Post by wolf on Dec 7, 2021 1:33:35 GMT
"Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and an especially Happy New Year 2022 Ka-tet!"
From Frank and all the Author's
(Illustration is a Stock Image)
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