Silent Night, Deadly Night

We have awakened. Cursed, grotesque, but awakened.

The full moon shone through the gaps in the clouds as snow fell heavy upon the suburban home.

The child knew not the strength of his elder magic, but how else would he have raised the creature so attached to his side? Us simple minions now must flock to him.

Not a living creature was stirring, for even the mice feared this night. Dark magic hung heavy on this Christmas night.

The wood of my arms is weak. I would have preferred an axe. Fangs must suffice.

Ahead, the door of the low brown suburban house lay ajar. It could hear voices from within.

I must find the child.

“Who left the door open, Cal–Oh God!” She shrieked.

A spare. Nothing more.

The man came from the kitchen, haughty, and glasses fogged from the dishes. He peered over them and found his wife dead on the entry carpet. It stood over its prey.

He screamed, and something stirred upstairs.

Guardians. Wardens of the Elder One’s prison.

It struck, and the haughty man screamed no longer.

These are the first two of many to fall in our great conquest.

The child appeared at the top of the stairs, his faithful familiar at his side. The great furred thing let out a hissing growl, revealing its curved fangs.

Master.

The minion bowed.

Lead us to victory, Elder One.

“Well, what do you know, Hobbes? It works on snowmen, too!”

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A/N:

All characters above were created by Bill Watterson, who is definitely shaking his head somewhere. Never fear, you're still a huge influence on my life.

Written in response to Stephanie Hoogstad's Winter Horror Story prompt:

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