Black (X)Mass in Gibsonville

A lanosaes story

The streets of Gibsonville were covered in a white carpet. The children gazed at the skies with wonder filled eyes. Would Santa appear? They had tried to be good throughout the year and expected their reward. They had emailed, texted, left voice mail messages, tweeted and friended Santa on Facebook. Some had even written letters and stuck them up the chimney, or blocked the central heating by mistake. Surely the big guy in the red suit wouldn’t fail them.

If you hadn’t guessed Xmas was approaching and everyone was looking forward to the festive day. Almost everyone, that is. Lurking in the dark corners of the city were those who took a contrary view. The humbug brigade, Scrooge’s children, call them what you will but they did exist and they would have their say.

The amusement park was closed for the holidays. The carousel, the roller coaster and the big wheel lay dormant. The bogus fortune teller, the bearded lady and all the other personalities had packed up and gone home. The park was dead except for a few birds who were scouring the ground for remnants of popcorn, hotdog or potato chips. There was a sound of metal scraping on tarmac. A clunk; the birds fled in alarm. A head appeared from a manhole and dark eyes scanned the park. It was safe and a shape emerged from the city’s underground, soon followed by others. A horde of pale skinned, gaunt figures filled the space where, usually, moms, dads and happy, chattering children gathered. They too looked up to the night sky in anticipation. Then they saw the glitter of magic dust thrown up by magic hooves pounding across the night sky. Yes, yes there was Father Christmas speeding through the clouds on his sleigh, heavy with presents for those who had been good. The hordes did not smile, though. They scowled at the sight. As one they began to chant. “Humbug, humbug, humbug.” They raised their fists, they spat out profanities against Christmas.

Then a cheer went up as one of them drew a rifle and shot at the sleigh. Had Rudolf been hit? Yes, yes. The sleigh was falling to earth and as one they moved towards it as it hit the ground. Santa, dazed and confused, slipped from his seat and staggered. Bony hands grabbed him and dragged him to an open space where an inverted Christmas tree stood. He was tied to it and the hordes danced around, taunting him; “Not so merry now, eh, fatso?” “Who’s gonna give the kids their prezzies?” “No sherry and mince pies for you!”

Then, to his horror, he saw Rudolf being led to an altar. A figure dressed in black approached brandishing a large scimitar. Rudolf’s head was laid on the altar, the figure raised the sword and brought it down …..

Mrs Claus shook her husband, “Wake up dear, wake up. Whatever’s wrong?”

“You’ll never believe the dream I’ve just had.”