The Shadows of Christmas

Clouds hovered over the ghastly moon and black mist hung in the air. Dust spread up at his feet as he stared at the sky, watching distant flashes illuminate the dark forest. There was a sense of worry in his eyes, an utterance of emergency. He knew he had to travel somewhere, make his way out of these woods, but similarly, leaving his brothers all alone was something he could not bear.

They could not be separated. Not again. The experience of loneliness was something that none of them wished to have, and so they said they would not wander away from each other.

Though Red felt he needed to. The young human that he’d rescued from the laboratory was not faring very well with the frequent changes in temperature. Blood would leak from his nose in terrible streams, and the Shadows would spend several hours trying to make it stop.

It worked.

It always did.

But the bleeding was becoming more and more frequent; it was lasting longer and longer. He was afraid that the little human was becoming weaker with every passing moonrise. That thought terrified him more than any other thing in the world.

And so he felt that he needed to venture onward. He could find humans and beg them to help him, for he knew not of how to cure the boy’s illness. He could lead them into the woods and they could help.

He paused.

Humans?

Helping?

It was a terrible idea. Humans had only ever tortured him. None had done anything to please him or his brethren. And they’d be afraid of him if he went into their town and pleaded for their help. Not only that, but if he took the boy with him, they’d think that he was a culprit of murder.

Humans could not help.

“Brother?” Blake’s itty voice snapped him out of his distant wonderings. “What is it that’s bothering you now?”

Red heaved a sigh. “What do we do?” he murmured into the air, almost not wanting Blake to hear, “The humans will not help him and he is getting weaker by the hour.” He felt himself tremble at a terrible thought. “What can we do?”

The small Shadow at his feet began to wonder. His white eyes glistened as he thought. Humans would be afraid of him and his brothers if they went near. They would either attack or run away, and neither would be helpful.

He looked over to Christopher, who was telling a story to the little human. The boy seemed surprisingly entranced in whatever the tale was, probably a legend that the Shadow had managed to scrape up from writings etched into the earth. Blake knew that, even as happy as the boy looked, he still was hardly strong enough to stand. There had to be something to do for him.

“We have to take him to the humans,” muttered he, looking up at his brother, “We don’t have a choice.”

“What might they do to him?” asked Red, “You saw what they did in the laboratory. Why would they treat him so differently out here?”

Blake blinked. “Perhaps not all humans are dressed in white coats. Perhaps not all of them are as mean as the ones in white coats.”

Red thought about it. It could be true.

“But the humans could be afraid of us,” said he, “They could attack us.”

Christopher stood up, joining his brothers’ conversation. “Not if we beg them.”

It would be humiliating to beg a human for help, after everything they’d done. Not only that, but it wouldn’t work. Humans do not help monsters like the Shadows.

“What if we all go?” asked Blake curiously, “If we ask the humans for help and tell them that a little human is sick, they might follow us.”

It was a horrible idea.

But it was the only one they had. If they took the boy out of the woods, the humans would think that they hurt him, and if only one of them went and the others stayed behind, the humans would not be convinced.

It was their only idea, at the moment, albeit a faulty one. The little human could stay in the forest and remain dry while they went out and tried their best to convince someone to come and follow them. None of the outer world knew anything about the Shadows, and perhaps they wouldn’t entirely consider them as ruthless monsters.

A few minutes passed. There was a rustle inside the bushes, the quiet pitter-patter of feet, and then the Shadows were gone from sight. The little human looked into the trees, searching for the three who had kept him safe for so long, but saw nothing but black.

He shivered. It certainly was cold.

A sudden memory came to him as he peeked through the gaps in the branches. He saw lights, all in different bright colors, all pleasing to the eye, hung on houses in the distance. And he began to remember what time of year it was as the storm turned from rain to flurries of white snow.

It was Christmas.

He recalled, vaguely, the warm lights of his old house and the smile of his older sister. He could remember seeing a tree, much like the ones around him, decorated with shiny ornaments and blinking, colorful lights. Presents were tucked underneath the tree; on top of a little red carpet they sat. Some big, some small. But wrapped in bright paper nonetheless.

He remembered Christmastime. It was so blurry, and yet clear.

The boy watched snow fall in small flakes from within the trees, shivering, weak, but still enjoying, still knowing that it was Christmas after all. Still knowing that the world was still the same as it was before. Still knowing that, in one of the houses he could see, his sister was celebrating Christmas, setting the gifts by the tree.

He pulled himself closer, hoping to stay warm as the cold began to settle in.

Maybe he could get some rest. Perhaps dream of Christmas at his house, of warm blankets, of mugs of hot chocolate, of toys lying in wait underneath the green boughs.

Sleep closed in on him, and he lay there, enveloped, waiting.

The shadows shifted within the trees. The view of the festive town had been blocked from sight. Dark creatures moved within the forest, their silent feet pattering on the snowy ground. They whispered to each other in soft voices, coming carefully into the clearing where the boy lay, sound asleep.

They were Shadows.

But they were not the Shadows that he knew.

Crimson’s eyes glittered a fearsome red in the moonlight. Flurries of snow fluttered to the ground and he squinted, trying to make out the small shape huddled underneath a nearby tree. The pupils in his eyes adjusted to the odd lighting, and he saw, to his surprise, a little human lying helplessly alone.

He stared in shock. Never before had he seen a human of such unusual smallness. His brothers peeked out of the shrubbery as well, looking with wonder over to the tiny figure.

It was shivering, even in its sleep. Its heartbeat was an abnormal staccato and its breathing was quick and sharp. It was sick, ill, or in the worst, dying. Whoever had left it in the cold woods on the eve of a Christmas morning must’ve had a fox’s heart.

The Shadows slithered out from within the trees, snowflakes landing on each of their dark shoulders. They blinked their light-filled eyes, wondering what kind of human the little boy was, wondering how a human could be so small.

They had only seen one type of human so far: the ones dressed in white coats. And so far, they judged every human just as they did the white coats. But this little one was… different.

Gently, they whispered to each other questions of the same tone. “What is it doing here?” or “Who left it all alone?” Crimson had noticed that the human was similar in size to Ivory, child-like and small. His little brother neared the equally little human without any sense of fear, reaching out a hand to lay on its shoulder.

At once, it stopped shivering. A spike of warmth spread through its body and the life of color returned to its pale skin.

But this was only for a moment, as the cold overwhelmed the boy again, and he shivered in his sleep.

“Why is it so small?” asked Ivory quietly, careful not to wake it.

Mauve raised his head, thinking over the answer. “I do not know,” said he, “but it certainly is not well. It is ill and undernourished.”

Crimson narrowed his eyes. “Why would humans leave one so small out here, all alone?”

The Shadow muttered curses to himself and all fell silent. Humans were cruel; it was a well-known fact. The ones in white coats had shown them enough to prove it.

A thought came to Ivory as he looked at the little human. “Should we save it?”

The three of them paused to consider the question. Should they save the human? Or should they leave it to die in the cold? It could become one of the white coats– at heart, at least, because all it had to wear was a thin blue outfit– and try to hurt them.

Though that was honestly ridiculous, because it was too small to hurt them and so weak that it wouldn’t be able to stand.

“I don’t know,” said Crimson finally, “What would we do with it?”

None of them knew how to take care of a little human.

Mauve wondered. “It needs food,” said he, “A human town is near here. If we could–”

“No.”

It was the immediate answer. They were not entering a town. Or any place where humans populated the grounds. They were to avoid humanity at all costs.

And that would be difficult if they brought along this little one.

“But it is cold,” retaliated the violet-eyed Shadow, looking up at his brother, “If it stays out here, then it will–”

“We cannot take it anywhere. What if the humans see us?”

The Shadows muttered amongst themselves, the two brothers bickering over the life of the tiny human that lay in front of them. Ivory, however, was not involved in the argument, and he was simply focused on the small figure that sat next to him.

It didn’t take long for him to figure out what needed to be done.

He had to wake the human up.

Ivory, after looking up at his quarreling brethren, gently tapped the human on the shoulder. It shifted when he tapped it again, and the third time, he decided to say something to it.

“Human?”

His eyes began to open. Lazily, he looked around, blinking. The whispery voice of Ivory flooded his ears, and he turned his head, only to see the Shadow sitting next to him who looked so utterly similar to Blake.

“Blake?”

Crimson and Mauve looked down immediately. Neither of them dared say a word to their little brother, who seemed to be having a conversation with the human of equally little size.

Ivory tilted his head. “Who is Blake?”

The boy stared into the eyes of the Shadow, confused. “He’s… he’s my friend. You look a lot like him.”

“I see,” said Ivory, ignoring the silent calling of his brothers that he should stop talking to the human, “What is your name?”

“I’m Will.” He paused for a moment, considering his next words. “I… I’m kind of sick, so I have a few friends who help me, and they…”

He looked around.

“They’re not here.”

Crimson joined in on the conversation, since it was clear that it was not stopping anytime soon. “What are you doing in the woods, little one?”

Will looked up, into the eyes of the Shadow who stood above him. He saw a certain gentleness in them, one that he knew matched Red’s, but somehow to a greater extent. He felt that he could trust the three who surrounded him. Perhaps his shadowy friends had sent in replacements to keep him company while they left.

“I heard my friends talking about going into the town over there,” he said, motioning to the twinkling Christmas lights in the distance, “Chris said they were going away to find things.”

“Chris?” asked Ivory, peering over Will’s shoulder.

The boy nodded. “My friends look a lot like all of you.” He listed their names, pointing to the duplicates who stood around him.

Mauve found it intriguing that there were other Shadows in the world, and oddly, ones that looked so similar to he and his brothers. But Crimson found it as a potential threat. The other Shadows could fight them and injure them.

That being said, why would they help a little human like William if they were vicious attackers? It made no sense to him. But still, he was wary of the concept of other versions of him and his brethren. It meant there were other white coats, other humans who planned constant evil in their wicked minds.

“They went into the human town to help you?” asked Mauve, lowering himself to the ground.

Will nodded his head. “I’m really hungry,” he whined out, a clear showcase of his inner starvation.

He quickly changed the subject, not wanting to focus on his growling stomach. “Did they send you guys back here, too?”

Crimson warned his brothers not to answer right away. It was difficult to determine whether or not the situation would become dangerous if they told the truth.

Ivory wondered for a moment before giving his answer.

Red’s feelings were up in the air.

“We can’t go inside,” said he as he looked upon the town, “It is too full of humans.”

People and lights crowded the streets.

“Is not that what we want?” questioned Chris, giving Red a well-deserved glare, “If we do not feed the child soon, he will only become more and more ill.”

Still, there was clear hesitation. Heading towards a village full of humans was an idea that was not good by itself, but partnered with the thought of begging a human for help and asking them to come into the dark woods was a whole other story. It simply was not going to work. No human could ever be so kind.

“Well,” declared Blake, “I’m going.” He began to maneuver down the hill.

Not too long after, Christopher followed his action. “We’re going,” said he to the frozen Red, who could only stare, “If you decide not to come, that’s fine with me.”

They had almost disappeared from his line of sight before he decided to come down along with them.

The sidewalks were caked with lovely bits of white snow. Lights twinkled atop human houses and gray smoke spilled from fire-filled chimneys. As the three Shadows stepped onto the streets, unnoticed, they heard the distant sound of music, civilians singing in a choir. Their carols filled the chilly air with an overwhelming sense of festivity as the night rolled on.

Little Blake was fascinated by the scenery. He let his feet touch the soft carpet of snow and nearly glode on it. Christopher followed his actions, though a bit more carefully, aware of the threat of ice along the concrete roads.

Red was yet to follow. He was ultimately hesitant to set physical foot onto something like snow. And he was ultimately hesitant to wander further into the town, aware that any human could catch sight of them.

But it was night, the time made specifically for them. They could stay hidden easily. He had no reason to be afraid.

…But he still did not place his feet on the snow.

Red picked up his pace to match that of his brothers. Admittedly, he was still unsure about asking humans for help, though the danger seemed far less than before as he stared around at the surrounding houses. Inside of frosted windows shone the lights of Christmas trees and the warm color of smiling faces.

Christopher hopped onto the sidewalk and peeked into one of the windows, careful to blend in with his snowy surroundings so he would not be noticed. Inside the house was a crowd of humans, some tall, some small, laughing and playing games of theirs. A strange emotion reached his tongue: happiness. He found that, though it didn’t have the taste of fear, it attracted him toward the house, and he wished he had it as well as the humans.

It was such a strong sensation in each of them that they all wandered over to the window, watching. Their dark forms melted in with the darkness of the outside, and their colored eyes pretended to be Christmas lights hung up on a distant house.

They watched the eyes of the little humans light up when they tore open presents to find toy airplanes or miniature train sets. Happiness filled the air with a certain delightful scent, and it was all they could do not to venture inside of the human house and share the wondrous feeling.

Chris stepped away from the window, his feet crunching on the freshly fallen snow. He paused for a moment, thinking, and then muttered, “We cannot ask the humans for help now. They are enjoying something that we will… never…”

The rest of his sentence was finished in all their minds. The Shadows knew that no human household would ever accept them into it, let alone to share their joy in festivities such as this. None would ever let them inside.

Red turned away from the window. “You are right,” he murmured under his breath, suddenly aware of the reality that he and his brothers were outcasts, “We should not interfere.”

Blake blinked in the window, still looking inside the house. “Should not William be able to enjoy this, too?”

That made all of them think. William was a human, as he had always been. Before he’d been taken, he must’ve had a life similar to those of these humans. He must’ve celebrated this holiday. And he must’ve opened presents and sat inside of a warm home with family gathered all around, playing with newfound toys and reading books full of happy stories.

Red nodded his head. “He should,” said he, “It isn’t fair that he cannot.”

Chris squinted. “Who said he cannot?”

The tall Shadow did not respond. He stared off at the other houses, waiting for Christopher to continue his usual rant.

“Who said that he cannot?” demanded he, “Who said that he cannot open presents just as these other humans have and gather with his acquaintances and enjoy… whatever this human holiday is?”

“Christmas.”

The brothers turned their heads toward Blake. He had turned away from the window and was looking at them with his bright white eyes like each of them had a hole in their head.

“It’s called Christmas,” he repeated.

Chris, after pausing, nodded his head. “Who said the boy cannot enjoy Christmas?”

Red looked up to the sky. “Who will give him presents?” he sighed aloud, “There is no place for him to go and be warm. And his family is however far away–”

“Let’s give him presents,” said Blake, perking up excitedly. He ran away from the window, making tiny footprints in the soft snow. “We can get him things! Why do we have to ask the humans for help, anyway? Why cannot he enjoy this Christmas?”

The Shadows stood in the center of the street, their silhouettes starkly visible against the bright lights twinkling all around them. They all considered the option of letting the boy enjoy Christmas like he usually would; they all considered stealing toys from the nearby shops and wrapping them in paper. They all considered keeping him warm and telling him stories and letting him play with his gifts.

And they all considered that this might be his last Christmas.

William looked up to the sky, wondering. “Do you know what today is?” he asked the Shadows, who all took a glance at one another and all simultaneously shrugged.

Will looked at the three, confused. “I love today,” he said, “It’s Christmas.”

Ivory blinked his eyes. “What’s ‘Christmas’?”

The boy couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “It’s the best holiday ever, and it always happens on December 25th of every year. Everyone buys presents and sets them under the Christmas tree, which is decorated with a lotta pretty lights, and then in the morning, everyone opens them and… and everyone’s happy.”

His eyes suddenly lost their color. Ivory, noticing the immediate change, gently took hold of his arm. “William?” asked he, “Are you alright?”

Will looked down at the snow at his feet, shivering. “I don’t have Christmas this year,” he mumbled, a different tone suddenly added to his voice, “I don’t think I ever will.”

Mauve sighed softly. “Don’t think that,” he comforted quietly, “Perhaps your friends will be back soon and they will bring you things.”

Will looked up from the forest floor. “Do you really think so?”

Mauve nodded. Though he was lying, it was the best he could do. He and his brothers were still deciding whether or not to leave Will or take him with them and nurse him back to health. It was clear that his friends, the other Shadows (whom Crimson still found as a potential threat), had been doing their best to take care of him and had finally given into desperation by leaving him alone in the cold woods. They wanted to help him and they seemed to have no other choice.

Ivory looked up at Crimson, speaking silently. “Do you think they’re really coming back for him?”

Crimson did not answer. He was looking deep into the woods. Black shapes were rising against the glowing horizon of the town. The silhouettes carried boxes in their arms as they traversed slowly through the trees. And he could see, when he squinted, that each of the persons had colored eyes: red, violet, and white.

They were coming back.

He did not respond to Ivory’s question and instead stood up. He would not take any chances with the other Shadows, especially with the weak little human and his brothers nearby.

The shadows within the trees stopped. Red blinked his scarlet eyes, alerted at the sight of unidentified figures where William had been. Without thinking, he cursed under his breath and hid the present inside of his cloak, wondering who had come and what they had done to the human child. He whispered something to his brothers, who each suddenly looked just as alert as he.

He stepped into plain sight of the clearing. And both he and Crimson looked each other in the eyes.

Red felt himself tremble. “If you’ve so much as touched him, I will–”

“I did not harm him,” said Crimson, remaining wary yet patient, “Neither did my brethren.”

Red blinked. “...Brethren?” He looked over and saw Mauve and Ivory sitting by William, who was completely unharmed. In fact, he seemed happier than when they had earlier left.

Will’s hazel eyes lit up the moment he caught sight of Red. A smile bloomed on his otherwise down face. “Red!” he said happily, “Did you find what you needed?”

He felt his insides cripple at the sound of Will’s weak voice. “Yes,” he answered softly, “We… we did.”

Christopher and Blake hesitantly wandered out from the trees, glancing at each other and then at the duplicates sitting by their little human friend. But the three Shadows, as they stared, began to notice significant differences between themselves and the ones across from them.

Crimson’s left horn had been split in half; only a jagged point on a small stub remained. Mauve’s right eye had been injured by some sort of evil object. And Ivory seemed significantly larger than Blake.

The differences were clear. But the similarities were difficult not to see.

“William has been telling us that you are his caretakers,” said Crimson to Red, who looked over, “Though I find it… odd… that you decided to leave him here alone.”

Red sighed. “He is…” he lowered his voice to a silent one that only Shadows could hear, “...very ill. We thought that asking humans for assistance might–”

Crimson’s eyes widened. “You would ask a human for assistance?” he said in disbelief, still keeping his voice low enough so that William would not hear, “Why would you ever do that? Humans are wicked!”

All who stood in that clearing knew of such things that the white coats had done.

“Not all of them,” said Blake, drawing Crimson’s fiery gaze. The little Shadow was still holding the small present that he’d brought for William. “William is not.”

Crimson blinked. “What would make him so different?”

Red looked down at the little human’s shivering form. “He is only a youngling. Children, they’re called. They cannot do any harm.”

Blake nodded his head. “And the younglings are not the only ones that aren’t wicked. There are others.” He motioned to the town behind him. “The humans who live there are not wicked. I heard them caroling.”

Every Shadow, including his own brothers, looked over at him in confusion. “‘Caroling’?” each of them asked at once, not disturbed by the fact that they’d all just spoken in unison.

Will perked up. “Caroling?” he asked into the air, as he’d heard what they had all repeated, “I know what caroling is! I did it once! Lots of people get together and they make a choir and sing so that everyone can hear them.”

Crimson squinted. “That seems frivolous,” he muttered, though he was not mad, “But what would that have to do with the humans not being wicked?”

Blake began to walk over to William, present in-hand. “Humans are a mixture of things,” he said softly, “Maybe some of them are like the white coats and others are kind. The ones who live in this town are kind.”

Christopher lowered his head, his voice a silent whine. “And yet we cannot ask them for help, for they are afraid of us.”

It was a horrible fact. Humanity would be eternally afraid of the Shadows for as long as they existed. Shadows were considered wicked, and no human would ever understand them as they were.

None but William.

And the Shadows, all of them, had to accept that fact.

Red, after the long pause, brought the gift out of his black cloak and knelt to William’s height. “We thought,” he began quietly, “that you should be able to celebrate Christmas this year.”

Blake nodded. “Here.” He handed Will the small box that he’d managed to wrap, smiling. “Merry Christmas!”

It wasn’t what it would’ve been. It wasn’t perfect. None of the Shadows could celebrate with any family and William could not embrace his sister.

But it was still Christmas.

And it was still good.

The Shadows shared the joy of Christmas with the small human as they watched him open his gifts. They each knew that there were still problems to be solved, things to do, difficulties that needed fixing, but in that moment, none of it mattered. All that mattered was sharing the happiness that filled the air and enjoying what little Christmas they had.

In the morning, once the snow had ceased falling and the sun had just begun to rise, Red awoke and found that the Shadows had left. Crimson and Mauve and Ivory had left in the midst of the night, and there was no trace of them to be found. They had explained their ideas to Red when William had fallen asleep, exchanging things about the white coats and stories of the humans they’d seen.

Then, they were gone. And the only thing left of them was the thought that there were other Shadows in the world, that Red and his brethren were not alone, that they were not outcasts after all.