Drabble Wednesday: Creepy Christmas

So after a hiatus last month due to the flu and other things, Drabble Wednesday is back.

And today on Drabble Wednesday I’m celebrating the Horror Holidays. Do join me for three tales of blood and jingle bells…

The Christmas Party

Come in, come in. The more the merrier, isn’t that what they say? We have food and drinks waiting for you.

The guests shuffled in, ushered along by festive Christmas music. They moved slowly through an open door, and saw a wondrous spread of hors d'oeuvres, champagne, cocktails, and more. They smiled.

You see, just what we promised. The best Christmas party of your life.

The new arrivals mingled with the earlier crowd. Behind them the doors closed. Their hosts raised a glass in a smiling toast, vampire fangs gleaming.

Did we mention? This will also be your last Christmas.

~*~

The Ghosts of Christmas

Scrooge wasn’t the only one you know.

And it wasn’t like the story at all. Those ghosts weren’t trying to help. They showed us visions, that part was true, but they tempted us, dangled desires and wealth like bangles on a pretty Christmas tree. Whispered in our ears about what we could have, if we just agreed. They came to both of us, Scrooge and Marley. They wanted the partnership, you see.

But old Ebenezer was smart.  

He didn’t listen to those ghosts. He rejected their promises.

He changed.

Me, well, I was greedy. I acquiesced.

I sold my soul.

~*~

And for the last offering, (with apologies to Clement Moore), here's a skewed bit of the cherished holiday, coming in a slightly longer than 100 words…

A Visit from St. Nicholas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

came the smell of dead creatures, yes, even the mouse

The stockings were shredded, all tatters and bare

amid ruins and bloodstains and the odd broken chair

The children were slaughtered all snug in their beds,

with most of their brains gone away from their heads.

And Mama stopped screaming when she bled from her throat,

while I fled that room as quick as a goat.

And behind me he came, with, oh, such a clatter,

A’ growling and snarling, and after brain matter

I ran for my life, a Christmas most foul,

With zombie St. Nicholas here on the prowl