A.N. I recently helped with a Christmas/Winter season parade that is a local tradition. This was inspired by me having to dig out some of our Christmas lights for a float.
Pitch hated the winter holiday season.
Not just the Christmas season, though the fact that Nicholas St. North was connected to something was enough reason to hate anything. He hated the whole range of holidays that happened around that time.
Christmas itself was filled with so much wonder, awe and happiness that it sickened Pitch. It was especially insulting since it happened smack dab in the center of winter, when everything was supposed to resting, harsh, or dead. It happened in the middle of the season that should inspire the most fear. But even those humans that didn't celebrate the holiday of his enemy experienced something very similar to it. Many religions seemed to have some kind of happy festival that happened during these winter months, and it turned the cold dark winter into a time for fun and family and togetherness. Even those who had no religious or cultural events to celebrate sometimes had parties, simply because that was the spirit of the season.
There were some figurative bright spots to this season though. It was inevitable that those less fortunate did not always find joy and life in this holiday season. Pitch relished these weak spots in his enemy's territory. He could feel each of them: parents worried that they wouldn't be able to afford any gifts for their children, homeless trying to figure out how to survive the cold, those who were anxious about being forced to see estranged family members at gatherings, and so many others.
Yet even these were not enough to truly sate Pitch's hate for the holiday season. Even those families who were poor often managed to find solace in each others love and company, and there was usually some measure of kindness given to the less fortunate this time of year. North's influence could make people so giving, and the traditions that he'd helped form had a way of pulling people together. Plus, most of these things were worry or anxiety, not straight up fear.
However, in recent years there was one tradition that Pitch rather enjoyed about this season. It was enough to bring him out of his lair in December, or even as early as November, to enjoy it. He was certain most people wouldn't consider it an actual tradition, but it was one to him.
Pitch stood on the roof of a typical U.S. suburban home, just above the highest window. He listened as a young mother moved things around in the room, bringing out boxes wedged far back into the upstairs closet. Any minute now...
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKK!
Pitch breathed deep as the scream tore through the air and the women ran from the room. He savored the flash of primal fear she felt, and soon felt similar flashes occurring in nearby homes.
Ah yes, the traditional 'finding the large hairy spider that now lives in your box of holiday decorations'.
Pitch smiled to himself. That one never got old.