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“James...” he said, wine glass in hand. The drink was red. Wine? Perhaps. “Please, sit down…make yourself comfortable.”
He rose to his feet, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“Are you…nervous, James?”
James. I hated that name. Why did he insist on calling me James? Nobody else did. I was Jay…not James. Every use of the word was a victory for him, a sign of his absolute power and control over me.
“I hope you are not nervous James. As you can see, you are amongst friends here…”
They weren’t friends. Out of the corner of my eye I saw another of his fiendish creatures scuttle away into the shadows. A chill snaked its way slowly down my spine, as if the cold rush itself was under his command. The man’s eyebrow arched inquisitively, over an eye that had seen more than I could ever imagine.
“What is it, James? Do you see something that you would like?”
I noticed the candles, set on a table. Big red candles, the same colour as the liquid in the wine glass. The wax slowly melted away, sliding down to the base. The flames flickered, dancing around, lighting up the otherwise dark room. It was just me, and him, and the candles. He’d sent his creatures away. Whatever he was going to do, he wanted to be alone with me in order to do it.
I gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing in full view. He saw my fear…he could smell it. I closed my eyes, sweat pouring down my forehead like alpine skiers down the mountains mere miles away. Mere miles away from what terrible things had happened. Would happen. Were happening right then.
I had an image flash across my mind, in front of my eyes for a split second. An image of my body lying face down, spread-eagled in the snow. Red staining the pure white. Red like the liquid in the half-empty wine glass.
“N-nothing…” I just about managed to spit it out, only realising how long I had been silent when I heard the low sigh, so low it sounded more like a growl, emitted from his lips. Lips soaked by the red liquid from the wine glass. My eyes were still closed. I heard his large frame lurch over to the chair. Now I could smell him. He stank of cheap drink. Was that what he’d been drinking? Regardless, I almost passed out right there in the armchair. I was getting hotter, the sweat beads growing larger, as if they were not skiers but in fact snowballs, rolling down and gathering more snow. The walls were closing in, tighter. I started to see stars in the blackness.
“James, my dear, open your eyes. Please.”
It took me a few seconds, but I prised my eyelids apart, just wide enough to peep through. The white fur. The shiny silver buckle on the jet black belt. Material as red as the liquid now gone from the wine glass.
The jolly laugh I heard as his great big arms closed in around me was my eulogy. My gargles the epitaph.
I never should have stayed up all night waiting for Father Christmas.
==== ==== ==== ==== ====
Thanks for reading, and a merry Christmas to all. Thoughts on my short story are appreciated.
He rose to his feet, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“Are you…nervous, James?”
James. I hated that name. Why did he insist on calling me James? Nobody else did. I was Jay…not James. Every use of the word was a victory for him, a sign of his absolute power and control over me.
“I hope you are not nervous James. As you can see, you are amongst friends here…”
They weren’t friends. Out of the corner of my eye I saw another of his fiendish creatures scuttle away into the shadows. A chill snaked its way slowly down my spine, as if the cold rush itself was under his command. The man’s eyebrow arched inquisitively, over an eye that had seen more than I could ever imagine.
“What is it, James? Do you see something that you would like?”
I noticed the candles, set on a table. Big red candles, the same colour as the liquid in the wine glass. The wax slowly melted away, sliding down to the base. The flames flickered, dancing around, lighting up the otherwise dark room. It was just me, and him, and the candles. He’d sent his creatures away. Whatever he was going to do, he wanted to be alone with me in order to do it.
I gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing in full view. He saw my fear…he could smell it. I closed my eyes, sweat pouring down my forehead like alpine skiers down the mountains mere miles away. Mere miles away from what terrible things had happened. Would happen. Were happening right then.
I had an image flash across my mind, in front of my eyes for a split second. An image of my body lying face down, spread-eagled in the snow. Red staining the pure white. Red like the liquid in the half-empty wine glass.
“N-nothing…” I just about managed to spit it out, only realising how long I had been silent when I heard the low sigh, so low it sounded more like a growl, emitted from his lips. Lips soaked by the red liquid from the wine glass. My eyes were still closed. I heard his large frame lurch over to the chair. Now I could smell him. He stank of cheap drink. Was that what he’d been drinking? Regardless, I almost passed out right there in the armchair. I was getting hotter, the sweat beads growing larger, as if they were not skiers but in fact snowballs, rolling down and gathering more snow. The walls were closing in, tighter. I started to see stars in the blackness.
“James, my dear, open your eyes. Please.”
It took me a few seconds, but I prised my eyelids apart, just wide enough to peep through. The white fur. The shiny silver buckle on the jet black belt. Material as red as the liquid now gone from the wine glass.
The jolly laugh I heard as his great big arms closed in around me was my eulogy. My gargles the epitaph.
I never should have stayed up all night waiting for Father Christmas.
==== ==== ==== ==== ====
Thanks for reading, and a merry Christmas to all. Thoughts on my short story are appreciated.
“James...” he said, wine glass in hand. The drink was red. Wine? Perhaps. “Please, sit down…make yourself comfortable.”
He rose to his feet, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“Are you…nervous, James?”
James. I hated that name. Why did he insist on calling me James? Nobody else did. I was Jay…not James. Every use of the word was a victory for him, a sign of his absolute power and control over me.
“I hope you are not nervous James. As you can see, you are amongst friends here…”
They weren’t friends. Out of the corner of my eye I saw another of his fiendish creatures scuttle away into the shadows. A chill snaked its way slowly down my spine, as if the cold rush itself was under his command. The man’s eyebrow arched inquisitively, over an eye that had seen more than I could ever imagine.
“What is it, James? Do you see something that you would like?”
I noticed the candles, set on a table. Big red candles, the same colour as the liquid in the wine glass. The wax slowly melted away, sliding down to the base. The flames flickered, dancing around, lighting up the otherwise dark room. It was just me, and him, and the candles. He’d sent his creatures away. Whatever he was going to do, he wanted to be alone with me in order to do it.
I gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing in full view. He saw my fear…he could smell it. I closed my eyes, sweat pouring down my forehead like alpine skiers down the mountains mere miles away. Mere miles away from what terrible things had happened. Would happen. Were happening right then.
I had an image flash across my mind, in front of my eyes for a split second. An image of my body lying face down, spread-eagled in the snow. Red staining the pure white. Red like the liquid in the half-empty wine glass.
“N-nothing…” I just about managed to spit it out, only realising how long I had been silent when I heard the low sigh, so low it sounded more like a growl, emitted from his lips. Lips soaked by the red liquid from the wine glass. My eyes were still closed. I heard his large frame lurch over to the chair. Now I could smell him. He stank of cheap drink. Was that what he’d been drinking? Regardless, I almost passed out right there in the armchair. I was getting hotter, the sweat beads growing larger, as if they were not skiers but in fact snowballs, rolling down and gathering more snow. The walls were closing in, tighter. I started to see stars in the blackness.
“James, my dear, open your eyes. Please.”
It took me a few seconds, but I prised my eyelids apart, just wide enough to peep through. The white fur. The shiny silver buckle on the jet black belt. Material as red as the liquid now gone from the wine glass.
The jolly laugh I heard as his great big arms closed in around me was my eulogy. My gargles the epitaph.
I never should have stayed up all night waiting for Father Christmas.
==== ==== ==== ==== ====
Thanks for reading, and a merry Christmas to all. Thoughts on my short story are appreciated.
He rose to his feet, eyes glinting in the moonlight.
“Are you…nervous, James?”
James. I hated that name. Why did he insist on calling me James? Nobody else did. I was Jay…not James. Every use of the word was a victory for him, a sign of his absolute power and control over me.
“I hope you are not nervous James. As you can see, you are amongst friends here…”
They weren’t friends. Out of the corner of my eye I saw another of his fiendish creatures scuttle away into the shadows. A chill snaked its way slowly down my spine, as if the cold rush itself was under his command. The man’s eyebrow arched inquisitively, over an eye that had seen more than I could ever imagine.
“What is it, James? Do you see something that you would like?”
I noticed the candles, set on a table. Big red candles, the same colour as the liquid in the wine glass. The wax slowly melted away, sliding down to the base. The flames flickered, dancing around, lighting up the otherwise dark room. It was just me, and him, and the candles. He’d sent his creatures away. Whatever he was going to do, he wanted to be alone with me in order to do it.
I gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing in full view. He saw my fear…he could smell it. I closed my eyes, sweat pouring down my forehead like alpine skiers down the mountains mere miles away. Mere miles away from what terrible things had happened. Would happen. Were happening right then.
I had an image flash across my mind, in front of my eyes for a split second. An image of my body lying face down, spread-eagled in the snow. Red staining the pure white. Red like the liquid in the half-empty wine glass.
“N-nothing…” I just about managed to spit it out, only realising how long I had been silent when I heard the low sigh, so low it sounded more like a growl, emitted from his lips. Lips soaked by the red liquid from the wine glass. My eyes were still closed. I heard his large frame lurch over to the chair. Now I could smell him. He stank of cheap drink. Was that what he’d been drinking? Regardless, I almost passed out right there in the armchair. I was getting hotter, the sweat beads growing larger, as if they were not skiers but in fact snowballs, rolling down and gathering more snow. The walls were closing in, tighter. I started to see stars in the blackness.
“James, my dear, open your eyes. Please.”
It took me a few seconds, but I prised my eyelids apart, just wide enough to peep through. The white fur. The shiny silver buckle on the jet black belt. Material as red as the liquid now gone from the wine glass.
The jolly laugh I heard as his great big arms closed in around me was my eulogy. My gargles the epitaph.
I never should have stayed up all night waiting for Father Christmas.
==== ==== ==== ==== ====
Thanks for reading, and a merry Christmas to all. Thoughts on my short story are appreciated.
Neat story, very good twist on the end there. I was actually half expecting him to get his head bitten off or something. It's quite good as it keeps you interested and hooked on to see what's going to happen.
Thanks :-)
I won't say the obvious...
What's that then Myst?
"Ooh El Blokey you are so great that post was great you are great have my babies"?
"Ooh El Blokey you are so great that post was great you are great have my babies"?
Yep.
Myst wrote:
> have my babies
No.
> have my babies
No.