'Tis said best beware the Christmas Blood Moon.
Red in the sky, this lonely satellite does bloom.
It marks the night as His time of mischief;
Even while the townsfolk argue how, "He can't bloody well be Christian!"
Though whether His origins ever do become clear;
This 'Man Dressed In Red' is truly someone to be feared.
For just for this one night does He come out to play,
And nothing can be done to avoid becoming His prey.
He emerges from the shadows,
Danger in His stride.
Overhearing the doubters squabble,
"He's not on our side!"
A sliver of guilt is rumoured all it would take;
And lost the game you have, all because of one tiny, miniscule mistake.
And thrice he will come a knocking, upon once-hidden oak doors.
Resistance is futile; you'd just end upriver without an oar.
- A sliver of guilt; not even a whispered secret alone? -
The message does ignite my mobile phone.
So, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll just be a sec,
A message needs to be sent, something done two hands - you know, a text.
- No solace will be found, my friend; not when He starts to roam. -
- And if you shall find yourself, -
- Before once-hidden, ancient oak doors; -
- The next day they shall find your body no more. -
Not a trace to be found; no life to be restored,
For those who do seek what's beyond these ancient wooden doors.
His wicked deeds do pierce the townsfolks hearts to the core;
And leaving them crying out, "Please, take no more!"
"Ho, ho, ho! Who's ready for a fright?!"
With a shout like distant thunder,
One that does echo through the night.
The hunt begins; one He will gleefully plunder.
As He pulls on the reins with all His might.
It is only then do His steeds take heed;
The one in the lead providing the guiding light He would ever so need.
And like a beacon in the dark, so mysterious and eerie,
Rudolph's nose glows so brilliantly red - filling all who see with instant dread.
- And accompanying this horned buck? -
- Oh, come now. You don't think he'd do it alone. -
- There's eight other steeds, paired up and all in a row. -
- Each one heralding their Master's chilling 'Ho, ho, ho!'; -
- And there to help His sleigh take flight. -
Clapping hoofbeats do echo through the night; so mysterious, loud, and utterly eerie.
Every year, and without fail, these nine reindeer provide such a fright.
For just as Donna and Blitzen always do bring up the rear,
The 'Spirit of Christmas' is birthed from the townsfolks deepest and darkest fears.
- But what of the children? What of the ones who hear his overly renowned cheer? -
Does my friend dare to question.
- Why, they're all but huddling under blankets, trembling with fear. -
- Each one not so innocent; snot-covered faces dripping with tears. -
- And what of the ones who sleep through the night? -
- Yeah! What of the 'Naughty List? I think not's'? -
- Oh, come my dear friends. Please do fret not. -
- They dream of presents, tinsel, trees, and, um, you know... that sort of rot. -
- For you see, guilt has not yet had time to fester, -
- And sleeping soundly you will see; dreams of Saint Nick they shall need not flee. -
- Dasher and Dancer - did you hear them next? -
Poor Tommy did text his friend - a terrified Alex.
- And Prancer and Vixen; oh, what terrible sounds! -
The messages just kept pouring in; Group-Chat all 'round?
- Comet and Cupid... I don't think I can sleep. -
- You sure he's up there? I didn't see the light. -
- Rudolph's red nose? No. But geez it gives me the creeps! -
- Did anyone see Olive? I swear I counted ten last Christmas night. -
But Alex hadn't seen; each message going unread;
As the young man's mobile instead collided with the floor.
Frozen in place, his back pressed tightly up against the wall;
As blue eyes were instead locked on the grain of once-hidden, ancient oak doors.
'Knock.'
'Knock.'
'Knock.'
The sound came thrice; sharp, quick, and from the door's other side?
Poor Alex did jump, the man already seeking a place to hide.
For the urge had already begun to bubble away from within;
To answer the door, one of the most terrible and deadliest of sins.
And so with trembling hands at his sides, to fists he did create.
Despite the knowledge he did hide, the guilt almost too much to take.
And just like a reoccurring nightmare, the knocking came thrice more;
As if sensing his guilt - and accompanied by a chain?
From the door's other side, a quiet voice did speak.
"Come now dear brother, and do let me in."
And by the Heavens above and Hell below;
Alex almost came to believe he was listening to his twin.
But the man knew the truth, that the speaker was false.
Nothing more but a creature of the dark - all but the Ultimate Deceiver.
For Alexander's twin was long dead,
And the man himself had never been much of an Afterlife believer.
So, "Go away!" he did shout, amazed that his did not crack.
"I know who you are," he added, and just as there was a deafening 'THWACK!
He watched on with dread as the door almost buckled under the weight of the chain;
The speaker on the other side angry, insane - basically twistedly deranged.
"If you're certain you know the truth of who I am," the voice now begun to taunt.
"Then surely you can see this game is at an end."
"It has always been one you know you couldn't win."
"So why continue to fight Alex? Just let me in."
"Leave me alone!" did come the young man's reply;
Alex's fear momentarily fading as he suddenly grew a spine.
"I know that it's not you I truly do fear!"
He continued with the hopes that the creature would leave for another year.
But again the knocking did come, thrice against the ancient wood.
And shake, clatter, thwack, and bang did the chains a rattle.
The man beyond determined, knocking this time with urgency.
To the point that had it been another time, Alex could have believed there was an emergency.
Though frozen once more his limbs had become.
As a silence so sudden did fill the hall; one so loud it was almost too much to overcome.
And the voice on the other side did change its tone,
It's childlike whispers transforming into a thunderous drone.
"I know that it's me you fear; it's potent, smothering your scent."
"Just as I know the innocent soul you did spend."
"You lied to your friends. You lied to your family."
"My, my, dear Alexander. Isn't your life such a calamity!"
Closing his eyes, Alex found himself praying.
To whom the young man knew not, just each whispered word he was saying.
For he knew the voice did speak the truth; had been there to witness the act themself.
But little did Alexander want to reveal what he'd expertly concealed upon his shelf.
"You think that you can hide the truth from me?"
"You think I am blind that I cannot honestly see?"
"Secrets never stay buried, Alex, their truth rebounds;"
"You useless, delusional, lying little welp!"
"I've watched you while you've been sleeping."
"Always have known when you've been awake."
"Just as I know you've been a bad, bad, boy."
"So, just let me in for goodness sake!"
Knocking followed the words, always in the same rhythmic threes.
And it was only then did Alex open his eyes, turning his gaze instead to the trees.
"You know nothing!" the man abruptly claimed.
"And what truth you know shall remain a secret, kept only between you and me."
"Are you certain?" the droning voice did enquire casually so.
And despite his bravado, Alex's gaze shifted from the trees and to the groaning pond below.
"Secrets were never meant to stay as such," the voice continued with its attack.
And with a stone settling in his gut, Alex watched as the frozen pond's surface begin to crack.
"Murdered or drowned; it does not matter which."
"Your guilt is enough; utterly fragrant, bold, and oh so rich."
"It speaks of the truth you so desperately try to hide."
"Of the misplaced trust you gave the one you did so confide."
Erupt, splutter, convulse, and spew; the ice did react.
And Alex found his heart did stop as fiction transformed and legend became fact.
For something dark did shift below; a creature of the night.
A creation of his guilt, a tormentor taking flight.
"For to speak of the truth; of the tales you did spin," the voice continued to echo,
And sent Alex's heart racing, body trembling with fear's shuddering billow.
He watched in dread as the creature drew near,
Its presence suffocating, completely filling him with sheer, unadulterated fear.
"A creature born from your sins, you see," the voice did hiss,
"One you cannot escape, no matter how far you flee."
"Your secret is exposed, brought into my light," it declared,
"There's no escape from the reckoning you've wrought tonight."
The creature advanced, its form twisting and bending,
Its visage distorted, a nightmare descending.
With claws sharp as daggers, its mouth opened wide,
Gleaming teeth glistened - and Alex searched for a place to hide.
"For each drop of blood shed, a price must be paid."
"Your deceit demands justice; debt overdue now to be repaid."
"And so my dear Alexander, your fate is now sealed."
"And on this night, your soul shall be revealed."
In a flash the creature did pounce, its aim set on the young man's throat.
It watched with wicked satisfaction as riveting crimson blood begun seeping.
And Alex's desperate cry was silenced as its grip tightened and smote;
Relishing in its brother's cries; revelling in the horror it was reaping.
"Begone, thy brother. Your voice shall be no more."
"Silenced is your lies, forever lost in this eternal lore."
"And may your punishment serve as a warning."
"Deception shall lead only to your downfall."
Alex's eyes widened, filled with anguish and disbelief.
His pain unbearable, the weight of the truth too much to bear.
But still he did claw at the creatures arm, so desperate he was for breath.
But his twin's grip only tightened, his sister displaying not even the slightest sliver of care.
"Sleep, deceitful one, your dreams now commence."
"But within His realm of shadows, know you shall find no recompense."
"And the whispers of your name, does it fade;"
"A reminder to all of the price of your charades."
As he breathed his last breath, the creature released its hold,
Leaving behind Alex's lifeless body, cold and untold.
His shell did crumple, falling to the ground,
While the creature that had been his sister, now satisfied, vanished without a sound.
On that fateful night, under the Blood Moon's crimson light,
Alex's struggles grew faint, his lifeforce consumed by the dark's might.
And the town slept undisturbed, oblivious to his fate,
Another life taken, stolen away by Saint Nick's cruel dictate.
And so the legend persists, while frightening tale's refrain,
Of this 'Man Dressed In Red' forever causing hearts to wane.
And on each Christmas Blood moon, fear does fester deep,
Sending souls to shudder, burying the secrets they've promised to keep.
'...CREEEAAAAKKKK'
Suddenly, a chilling sound shattered the peace.
A creaking of ancient doors as a towering figure found release.
A being from the depths of Hell; born within its sinister dark surge.
Through the oaken wood of ancient doors, did one Saint Nicholas emerge.
With a twisted, crooked, wicked smile,
Did this Man Dressed In Red take Alex's cold dead hand.
Before both did vanish back through the doors;
And into the folds of a grim and menacing land.
The doors did slam shut; concealing Alex's dreadful fate,
Leaving behind a wall; a void none would have known to contemplate.
The enigma of the Blood Moon? Its secrets remain clutched.
It's truth remains hidden; always present but left untouched.
The townsfolk will learn of Alex's fate, but unaware of the horrors untold,
They will all feel his loss; hearts left heavy, pained, and cold.
But none will dare speak of the night, fearful that there may be a price,
And allowed the Spirit of Saint Nick to revel in His chilling vice.
So, when the stars twinkle and the Blood Moon shines bright,
Avert your gaze from its crimson light.
And if you should happen upon once-hidden oak doors,
Turn tail and run; please, I urge you to be swift with your might.
For if temptation ensnares and does tug at your core,
Please, protect yourself from Saint Nick's relentless chore.
Safeguard yourself from His eternal might.
And pray the Ghost of Christmas Past won't implore.
Heed this warning, beware the Moon's mournful plea,
Saint Nicholas' darkness lurks, hungry to decree.
Conceal not the truth, less it claims its fee,
And seizes your soul with its dark, damnable decree.
For if you do happenstance upon a Christmas Blood Moon,
Remember these words and remember them well.
Do not think of what you have done,
The past is just that and cannot be undone.