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Author Topic: Halloween Mind Candy
Member # 4709

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or a little Halloween Gift for you all.

For Christmas I like to post a small little story here (The Santamarillion). I get bored with that, so with some aid from some other Hatrackers, I wrote a story, kind of Grinch meets Dritz meets Dark Seed. Its still rough, but if I proof read it as well as it should, Halloween will be over and Valentines day will be near.

For now I present:

Santa's Dark Elf

"The Curare in the Christmas Cookies were a bust last year" sweet little Mary thought as she tip-toed her way down the stairs on Christmas eve. Her ten year old eyes wide with hope and excitement at the prospect of what, or perhaps who, lay sprawled under the Christmas tree this year.

Thinking back on last year's cookies she thought "Some magical immunity perhaps. Either that or the fat guy never really ate them. He probably just fed them to his elves or something. Hm, maybe I killed a reindeer. I hope it wasn't Vixen. I like the name Vixen." Sweet little Mary's thoughts wandered. She was sleepy. Ten year old little girls normally don't stay up till midnight, but the alarm had gone off saying her Santa trap had been sprung.

"This year will be different." she smiled as she reached the bottom of the steps. The lights from the Christmas tree filled the hallway and sweet little Mary's smile grew. The cans of paint, set on the swinging ropes, had been released. Now, according to her research which consisted of studying several classic cartoons and some "Home Alone" movies, Santa should be laying unconscious with his head resting comfortably beneath the stockings hung with care.

Sweet little Mary skipped into the room, grabbing the nylon ties she had set on the hall table, all the better to restrain Santa.

"Ho, ho, ho" growled a deep musical voice as Mary entered the room. She stopped and stared. Instead of an unconscious jolly old sprite, she faced a tall, thin, pale elf in red-splattered leather, holding two delicate swords who's blades dripped a thick red goo.

"Who are you?" Mary asked.

The creature cleaned the fowled blades on the cushions of the sofa as he closed on Mary. "I am Eul-Baen, one of Santa's elves, dear child."

"You don't look like any elf I've ever heard of." She said while watching his cat-like approach.

With a quick flick of his wrist, almost too fast to see, his right hand shot forward and the blade cut clear through a branch of the nearby Christmas tree. This branch had been covered with ornaments depicting cute little elves prancing in the snow. They shattered as the limb crashed to the floor, leaving the broken remains of cute elves to be stepped on. "I'm one of his dark elves."

Now some may start to sympathies with sweet little Mary, poor little innocent girl facing a large dangerous warrior. They would, if they didn't hear the lilt in her voice as she responded, "Cool."

Mary was smiling her best innocent angelic smile at the elf. He smiled back. He too tried to look innocent and sweet, but his smile showed many more sharp teeth. "How come I've never heard of you?" Mary asked.

"Oh, nobody usually hears me. I can be very quiet."

"No," she said with the beginning of a snit. "I mean heard of you? There are no stories of Santa and his Dark Elf."

"Maybe Santa likes it that way? Maybe I do too?"

Mary wasn't paying much attention. She was busy looking over the ruined trap. Apparently all of her buckets had deployed as planned, but this elf had dodged most of them. One, the bucket of Poinsetta Red, he had stabbed in self defense. It was the Okra Green can that most concerned her. It must have been right on target, for it was dented with a perfect mashed outline of the elf's face. The elf's face did not seem to have noticed.

"Don't answer my questions with questions. Give me an answer. Now." This tactic always worked with daddy and momma.



"Its initials. Like WWJD stands for What Would Jesus Do." Eul-Baen face was a mask. This tactic always worked on brats.

"Great. Religion" thought Mary. She believed that the church had its uses, but she never grasped its saving graces.

"You must be sweet little Mary" He said. Shocked, she jerked her head up, and caught herself staring into his charming midnight blue eyes.

"I am," she said, doing the cutest little curtsey. "But how did you know?"

"You are the one on the list."

Mary was a bit confused. "The list? What list?"

He looked at her as if she were stupid. She hated when people looked at her as if she were stupid. "Surely you know that Santa has lists: The Nice list, the Naughty list, the list that has Mary's name."

"Oh," said Mary in her best condescending voice. "You mean I am on the naughty list."

"No," corrected the elf. Mary hated being corrected. "You are not naughty. You are way past naughty. Naughty is stealing cookies from cookie jar. You bashed the cookie jar over Nursey's head. Naughty mean you say bad words. You chant words of power to zombify some cats. No, Mary, you are not on the naughty list."

Mary blushed. Whether out of guilt or pride, the elf could not say. "Oh yeah, Mrs. Fluffytails was lots of fun, but she only ate mice brains. If I'm not on the Nice List, or the Naughty List, what list am I on."

"The Nefarious list." He bowed this time.

Mary was confused. "There is no such thing as a nefarious list."

Eul-Baen laughed, and his laughter was music, though more a jazz tune than a Christmas carol. "Stupid little girl. Like all intelligent stupid people because you know more than some people you believe you know everything."

Mary really didn't like to be called stupid. In fact, she really couldn't remember anyone ever calling her stupid before. As this was the first time any dared to do so, she decided right then and there that she didn't like it. "Ooooh, and what makes you so smart?"

"I never said I was smart dear child. I only say that I am right."

With her hands on her hips she faced the taller menace and pouted, "Then what makes you think you are right?" Eul-Baen raised his sword to her throat. "You have a point sir."

The second blade came up as well. "I have a couple."

Sweet little Mary backed away, only to find herself backing up against a wall. "Ok. I'm on the Nefarious list. I believe you. No need to get violent about it."

Eul-Baen smirked, trying hard to hide a smile. "You know, it takes someone very special to get on that list. Being evil, that's easy. Its actually a lot easier than being good. Thats why it attracks the lazy and the unimaginative." Mary started to protest, but Eul-Baen continued. "You, however, are not lazy. To become evil while retaining the imagination to believe in Santa, now that is rare. It is amazing. It is ... dangerous."

Sweet little Mary's smile stretched from ear to ear. She was practically drooling, "I am dangerous, aren't I. Hey, what do I get?"

The elf looked confused.

Mary continued, using the confusion and the discussion to dance away from the wall, and away from the swords. "Nice kids get lots of presents. Naughty kids get a lump of coal. What do nefarious kids get? Huh? Lots of coal? Do I get a whole bunch of the dirty stuff?"

Eul-Baen watched her dance away, and moved quickly yet casually to place himself between the her and the only door out of the room. "Dear child, do you think that any semi-mythological judge of juvenile morality will be limited in his punishments to the dispersal of unclean fossil fuels? No child, I am after something other than gifting with stones."

She stopped dancing and looked at him. She had been calculating the price of coal futures in her head, but now something else needed her attention. "What?" she asked in a fearful little girlish voice.

"Your heart." He stepped closer.

She smiled again, "Oh, just like the Grinch, and that Scrooge, and all those others? You are going to find my heart and make it grow seven times its size and I'll be all really sweet and good and all. Oh yes. I can feel it already. I'm turning good. Honest. God bless us, every one and I can feel the true meaning of Christmas. I believe! Look Zuzu's Petals. I am so sorry. I'll never go hungry again..oh wait, that's the wrong movie. Maybe if you start singing some Christmas carol then I'll be a good little girl for ever and ever."



Eul-Baen stepped forward. "My sweet little Mary, that's not what I meant at all. According to the list you haven't used your heart for many years now. So as a Christmas gift to Nursey and Mrs. Fluffytails, and your father you've driven to drink, and your mother so doped out on tranquilizers that you've altered, and to all those who will suffer next year and each year there after, I am asked to take your heart." The swords flashed again.

Up on the roof was a sleigh of black leather and ebony skis. Harnessed to it were a dozen emaciated wolves each as large as a hound, and all led by one dire wolf of immense size who's eyes cut through the night with a dull red light. Silently Eul-Baen climbed out of the chimney and onto the roof.

"How was she?" asked the lead wolf in a growl.

"Sweet Mary's heart was just that. Though it could have used a little salt." He pulled out a toothpick from a pack on the sled's floor.

"D.C.D.S.C?" asked the wolf.

"Yes, Dunstan," Eul-Baen said to the wolf, calling it by its taken name. "Dead Children Don't Sing Carols. Elve's, even dark elves, are known for it though."

As Dunstan led the wolves, like the rabid dog-sled team it was, high up into the night, Eul-Baen's sweet elvish voice filled the air...

Dunstan the viscous Dire Wolf, had eyes that glowed with dread

And if you ever saw them, frankly you'd soon be dead.

All of the other Dire Wolves used to run from him in fright.

I think those stupid Dire Wolves, finally got something right.

Then one foggy Christmas eve, Eul-Baen came to sley.

"Dunstan with your glare so bright, won't you lead our hunt tonight."

Then how the Dire wolves whimpered, as they ran out in fear

"Dunstan the bright eyed wolf lord, you can lead us every year.

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Member # 6062

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[Hail] [Hail] Brilliant.
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I just finished reading Brian Thomsen's A Yuletide Universe: Sixteen Fantastical Tales. Yours reminded me to some degree of Nackles by Donald Westlake (aka Curt Clark, Tucker Coe, Richard Stark, etc.)

Very nice.

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Cute, somehow..
I wrote a play once with a very similar title, Dead Kids Don't Resist. Mine, however, didn't actually have anything to do with children.. or resistance for that matter.

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Trent Destian
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What a treat.
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Wow! I really enjoyed that, and that's not the kind of story that I usually like.
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It was really good....
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Thanks for your feedback. It is appreciated being appreciated.
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heh heh, great he's coming for me next...
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Great story. One editing detail. It should be "Santa should be lying unconscious" not laying.
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Really fun. A good proof-read wouldn't hurt, I noticed a few little errors. I'll go back through and find them if you insist.

This is disturbingly close to the event in which I found out Santa didn't exist. I was in second grade, and I had my suspicions. The night of Christmas Eve I hid under the living room futon with a mag light. Around midnight I heard steps coming down the stair and just as the figure passed in front of me I turned on the light. What followed was a series of swears and loud yelling. I hid farther under the couch as a broom handle swooped in and started jabbing at me. In reality I had just scared my father, in my head, Santa was out for blood.

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Member # 4709

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Bump to get us all in the Holiday mood.

And yes Dante--this was my rough draft, so its full of typos.

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