December 2016 75-word writing challenge -- VICTORY TO THE JUDGE!

[reiver33]

Early This Year

A frost-fern spreads across the conservatory glass. In the uncertain light of gas lanterns it could almost be a man, in profile.

Blink and you’ll miss it.

I turn and step forth from the glass; a doorway to Wonderland. Monochrome blossoms into shades of grey and black, pale flesh, a blood-red waistcoat. A silver-topped cane parts company from an undefined leg, a top hat completes my ensemble.

I smile.

Jack Frost, at your service.

 

[Mr Orange]

Jingle Hell


Crashing through the snow,
Chased by coal-black sleighs,
Bloody, hobbled and slow,
Can't get away.
Bells on hellhounds ring,
Reins straining tight.
Their masters laugh and sing
Slaying songs tonight.

Ohhh, across the fell, gas fire swells,
Daemons burn like hay,
Through flames portly hero rides
On an eight reindeer sleigh.
My fear's not quelled, tho' he does tell,
Me not to be afraid.
Slavering deer with dead red eyes
Look hungrily my way.

 

[LittleStar]

Fairy Lights

Denna burned out and fell from the tree. Charred. Dead.

Arienne's tear fizzled on her cheek. She gripped the tubing harder, letting the heat sear into her skin.

Coal dust was gone now the Human Hierarchy had switched to witch fire. And no fae could afford that.

So Arienne sapped as much as she dared.

Caught or dead if she failed. But sometimes hard choices were easy to make. She couldn't lose anyone this year.

 

[Calliopenjo]

Scarborough Faire

Sigga smiled. A drop of parsley oil to remove the bitter emotions. A drop of sage oil to offer strength and wisdom. A drop of rosemary oil to offer memories of love and affection. At last, a drop of thyme oil to offer courage and happiness that love will bind them together.


The blustery winds blew through Scarborough with the construction of a grand building behind her. Knowledge that winter freezes time. Spring brings anew.

 

[HoopyFrood]

A Visit From...

The orphanage or the workhouse; instead he chose crouching in the snowy street, feet blue and numb.

The big clock struck midnight.

Black boots crunched to a halt before him. “It's Christmas day, John,” said a deep voice. “Let us celebrate.”

“C-c-celebrate? With f-f-f-food and w-warmth and family?”

A gloved hand pulled him upright. They began to walk.

“Yes.” Empty sockets in the white bone face regarded the boy. “Food and warmth...and family.”

 

[Bowler1]

Santa’s Naughty or Nice List

Meeting Santa’s punishment battalion deep in the old coal mines had seemed like a good idea, but in the flickering gaslight their fear filled looks troubled Snowflake. Santa’s whip hand hung heavy over them, even on Christmas Eve.

‘Do you want to toil for toys,’ shouted Snowflake, raising her little fist in defiance, ‘or fight for freedom?’

Their shuffling feet and muttered mumbling was answer enough, Snowflake knew she wouldn’t get her wish this Christmas.

 

[Vaz]

Rich Pickings

Stoker handed the dripping parcels out to the poor, climbed into his carriage and closed the door.

He grinned, pinching the mirror between his fingers. The glass rippled like a disturbed pool of water.

Duke Snade faded into view looking dishevelled, his wife a wailing devil.

The poor had cried, when he denied them a bonus. "No Turkeys this year," he said.

Stoker sliced the bloody meat thrice.

Little Lords taste twice as nice

 

[AnyaKimlin]

A Lantern in the North

Joseph Pozzi’s lantern gloomed through the freezing fog, obscuring the gothic ruin of the cathedral.


“Sleep well, Father.” He acknowledged the Pozzi grave.


“Night, little Ann,” Joseph said. She died when she was two.


A spinning wheel whirred in the Lady Chapel, the only part with a roof, where Mad Margery had raised her babe.


“Night, Margery.” Too cold for a conversation with the ghost, he returned to the warmth of his custodian’s cottage.

 

[johnnyjet]

First Fruits of Winter

Carriages and horses' hooves made soft crunching sounds on freshly fallen snow on London's streets. Edgar and his friends frolicked in the fat snowflakes and midwinter chill.

Edgar stopped. Something in the snow.

"A tiny black skull!"

They backed away. More skulls on stalks appeared.

Edgar fell. "Ow. One bit me."

Gaslights flickered.

"Let's get out of here, lads."

Distant howls marked the harbinger of a bizarre new era in the history of London.

 

[Ihe]

The Winter of the Heart

Reyan’s top hat fell on fresh snow, decorated by a smoking hole. Jack the Ripper had missed.
The sight of Reyan’s elven ears, now uncovered, infuriated the orcish serial killer. He lunged for him. They struggled on the busy street’s grimy frost slush, tripping passers-by. Everyone was rushing home for the Solstice celebrations. Reyan, off-duty, didn’t have his gun. He cried for help.
That day London was cold for more reasons than one.

 

[Dan Jones]

Fairy Light

Grub fished another wriggling, shrieking fairy from the bowl and tossed it onto the hearth.

“Sorry,” he murmured, catching clove scents from the flames.

Outside, Jack Frost’s icy sickle scraped the cobbles, but he wouldn’t enter Grub’s house while the fairies burned.

The fire withered, prompting Jack’s tap-tap-tap at the window.

Fingers numb, Grub grasped the bowl. Few fairies remained, and winter was long. Grimacing, he dragged another one out by its wings.

 

[Cory Swanson]

Captain’s Log: February 23, 1874.

We've been locked in the ice for nearly four months now. The decks creak with the pressure. Fear is my companion.

The auroras bring the only real light, but with them comes the horror. I first saw it a week ago. The lights formed into a man as tall as the sky. He is aflame from within as he searches the vast icy plains for hours each night.

When he finally finds us, what then?

 

[Venusian Broon]

Burnt Matches

I, Spiritus benevolence, flit invisibly between hansom cabs and street lamps to a snow dusted alley. A little barefoot girl is alone. I whisper strike matches. My intangibility permits so little. Only brief visions of comfort for her in tiny flames.

By morning a man finds her cold body. Sensing his pity, I induce images of her in heaven celebrating Christmas. Perhaps he’ll act with more kindness.

Otherwise all I accomplished was burnt matches.

 

[HazelRah]

Ode to the Festive Cynic


Dark nights in Europe is where it began,

Unsolved mysteries all over the land.

Footprints in the snow that end at the wall,

Nobody knows where they go next at all.

Gas lamps splutter out and presents appear,

It happens the same night every year!

Some say it's magic, some say it's ghosts,

Or maybe it's just a saint dressed in red clothes.

Whatever the truth, it's nice he exists

To make Christmas more... materialist?

 

[farntfar]

Hustle on Threadneedle Street

A frosty night with a nice fog, a little preparation to see the order the gas lamps extinguished after you closed the street’s main tap, a couple of props (a long thin stick and a hat), a mark on his way home from the banker’s tavern, and all was ready for the next con.

Micky “Bricks” Tumbletore turned to his apprentice Jake Rowling.
“OK lad. Reel him in, now he believes in magic”

 

[Culhwch]

Witchlight

It was in wintertime that witchlight was most important.

Horst was a Seeker. He had the knack, had been born with it. Didn’t particularly want it.

He knew - just knew - where to find witches.

At least he didn’t have to catch them. Or extract their light. He’d heard the screams.

It needed doing, he knew.

Witchlight fueled the lamps.

The lamps kept the dark away.

And it was darkest in wintertime.

 

[Old_Man_Steve2016]

The Age of Heroes End,
​

Sir Neon Drake stood triumphant. Great Dracula, Mad Monster Frankenstein, Spring-Heeled Jack, Red Hulder, the Yorkshire Gargoyle, and twelve werewolves lay dead at his feet. The snow fell over them.

Why is it so cold? he thought. He looked down. The old wound had burst open during the fight. He fell down. Just before he died, a newspaper blew by. He read the headline in the flickering gaslamp lights. It read "Queen Victoria Dead!"

 

[chrispenycate]

Where comets go for winter

Chill-fingered astronomer folds telescope
Locks down Greenwich observatory.
Tonight's cloud offers negligible hope
Of following celestial story.

Fog freezes in fantastic ferns
Yellowed mantle illuminates;
The comfortable image chilling turns
As does protagonist, to warm digs celebate.

Where cider's mulled, and teapot graces hob,
Where fussy spider's culled by housekeeping nabob,
Organisation fails outside star-studded job.

Observed from dryer, higher climes the comet's tail precedes
And outer frozen darkness falls, as it recedes.​

 

[VinceK]

Temptation Moor

I hold the lantern against the swirling blizzard, it's flickering light glimpsing delicate footprints in the fresh snow.

I promised to ignore the lure of her wail.
I promised not to stray from the illuminated path.
I promised not to look upon her glacial beauty.
I promised not to let her kiss freeze my heart.

But I am weak.

Eternally I will stand on this desolate moor, yet another beacon to shepherd the faithful.

 

[Starbeast]

Post-Ghosts​

"Such generosity. A raise, gifts from Santa, Easter Bunny brought food, the Tooth Fairy healed Tim. I'm befuddled."

Ebenezer kneeled. "Can you forgive a foolish man, Mr Cratchit?"

Tim touched Scrooge's shoulder, "Everyone, deserves a second chance."

"God love you, Tim.", choked Scrooge.

Offering a welcoming hand, Bob smiled. "Merry Christmas, Mr Scrooge."

Ebenezer tearful. "God bless you, Bob."

Santa cheered, "Merry Christmas!"

"God bless us, everyone.", said Rudolph.

#

Jacob Marley's grave explodes. "FREEDOM!!! YEEEEES!"