Cold.
The sky was gray; the thick clouds were showering the island with sleet that froze stiff at contact with the ground or walls of the fortress, forming daggers of icicles almost instantly. Within the walls a dark building of prison cells stood, its residents shivering. It was wintertime, not that most of the inmates could tell. The Dementors kept the prison at low temperatures year round, and those who were still sane enough to understand the concept of seasons spent their days curled in the back corners of their cells, trying to minimize contact with the horrid creatures that guarded them.
Only one man had stood up that morning and looked out from his small room to see the sleet freezing. He reached a thin arm out through the bars and grasped onto an icicle that had formed off the overhanging roof just a few inches out. A sharp tug brought the icicle into the cell with him. Chapped lips twisted into a self-satisfied smile before they opened, and a hoarse, mockingly cheerful voice wheedled into the air.
"Rudolph the red nose reindeer,"
The man dropped himself to the floor, his legs too weak to lower his body slowly, and with his icicle in hand, he drew a smiley face into the dirt.
"Had a really shiny nose,"
Hair was scribbled on top.
"And if you ever saw it,"
Round-framed glasses were drawn around the eyes.
"You would even say it glows."
Viciously, the icicle carved a lightening bolt onto the forehead.
"All of the other reindeer,"
More faces, smaller, but each with their own distinctive features.
"Used to laugh and call him names,"
A group of three faces, all frowning, one long and the other two with chubby cheeks. Below them the man wrote two words: boy, freak.
"They never let poor Rudolph,"
A group of five faces, four frowning and with a small creature drawn above their heads, a lion, a bird, a snake, and a badger, the fifth with a large grin and a feather and scroll. Below them the man wrote more words: the heir, liar, attention-seeker, disturbed.
"Join in any reindeer games."
The icicle pointed back towards the first face. Flipping the icicle over, the man used the blunt end to draw broad strokes over the face, the bars lying across the image so that the lightning bolt was the only recognizable feature left.
"Then one foggy Christmas Eve,"
A simple house, flames rising from the windows, and a skull with a snake in its mouth floating over the burning home.
"Santa came to say,"
Another face, about the same size as the first, was drawn next to the bars, with a long beard, half-round glasses, and a pointed hat.
"Rudolph with your nose so bright,"
A line, no, the outline of a stick, eleven inches long.
"Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"
Another stick, longer, and another face, this time with slit nostrils and a forked tongue.
"Then all the reindeer loved him,"
Slowly, the man's other hand went over his drawings, smudging away the frowns from the second group of faces before using the icicle to draw smiles instead.
"As they shouting out with glee,"
The words below the now smiling faces were wiped away.
"Rudolph the red nosed reindeer,"
New words were scribbled with the icicle: the chosen one, savior, the lone voice of truth.
"You'll go down in history."
The singing stopped. Fingers clenched around the icicle as the man stared down at the pictures he drew into the dirt before him.
"Well, Rudolph?"
A question; just a casual question.
"You haven't answered me yet. Will you guide us this foggy night? Will you be our light and go down in history as the one who saved Christmas?"
It started so softly, that it couldn't be heard, but the man's shoulders began the shake. His lips once more twisted, this time in a cruel grin. Emerald eyes flashed before eyelids shut down over them and the man's mouth opened to release hysterical laughter.
"Ahaha, haha, HAHAHAHAHAH!"
CRASH.
The icicle shattered as it was flung against the wall.
"Fuck you."