The Night Before A VA Christmas
''Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Dominion.
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Strigoi.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The Moiri were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of feeders danced in their heads.
Rose in her uniform and I in my duster had just settled down for a long winter watch.
When outside the wards there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my post to see what was the matter.
Away to the wards I flew with a flash, tore open the gate and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow.
Gave the luster of midday to objects below.
When what do my wondering eyes should appear.
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny Strigoi.
With a little old driver, so dead and quick. Well I knew in a moment it wasn't St Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came, He whistled and shouted and he called them by name.
On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer, on Vixen, on Comet, on Cupid, On Donner, and Blitzen.
To the top of the palace to the top of the wall.
Now dash away, dash away all.
As dry leaves that before the hurricane fly. When they meet to an obstacle mount to the sky.
So up to the palace the coursers they flew. With a sleigh full of Strigoi and weapons too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little troop.
As I drew in my head and was turning around down the wall the Strigoi came with a bound.
He was dressed in fur from his head to his foot and his clothes were all tarnished with blood and soot.
A bundle of weapons he flung on his back and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes rimmed in red, his fangs so scary.
His cheeks were pale and a nose like a cherry.
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a bow.
And the beard on his chin was as white as snow.
The stump of a pipe, he held tight in his fangs.
And the smoke, it encircled him like an overhang.
He had a broad face and a little round belly.
That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right dead old Strigoi.
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head.
Soon gave me to know he soon would be dead.
We spoke not a word and went straight to work.
Killed the Strigoi and turned with a jerk.
And laying a finger to the side of my nose.
And giving a nod up the roof I rose.
I sprang to the sleigh, and to Rose gave a whistle.
And away we flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard Rose exclaim as we drove out of sight. " Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight."