-Shut up, man! This is all your fault! If you hadn’t been talking all the fucking time, we would have been back in town with the rest of the group now with beautiful photos of the waterfall.
-So now it’s my fault? You’re the one who… Wait… What’s that?
The two travellers stared in awe. This was far better than any waterfall.
-A monument of a lost civilization. I can’t believe this!
They had been lost in the jungles for days, getting deeper and deeper in the more they tried to get out.
-I think we’ve discovered something totally new man!
The carvings looked like they had been formed by nature itself, but they were too figurative to be a coincidence. Two eyes were staring down on them from above a mouth formed cave entrance.
-What could be in there? I don’t know, but I don’t really like the look on that face…
-You’re such a coward. Come on, let’s go have a look!
“Good afternoon, I’m James Muck, and this is Channel Eight News. Strange reports are coming in from down town today. Our reporter is down there, circling the skies in a helicopter. What’s happening, Michael?”
“There seems to be some kind of infestation down here, James. Some kind of…. blubs lying on top of the buildings!”
“We’re seeing them, Michael. Quite a sight. What are they?”
“I have no idea, but they do not seem like anything of this world… Oh my god…”
“What’s happening down there, Michael?”
“They’re eating the buildings…
Since Christmas is a time for traditions (and I’m on holidays), I’m republishing this story about Santa’s early origins first published the first Christmas here on Fictionspawn Monsters. Happy Yule, everyone!
The celebration of the turn of the darkness had already started. The children were waiting for Odin to come with gifts, as they all thought they had been nice this year, but Freidis knew Solvar had not. No one else knew, she hadn’t told anyone.
Solvar looked at her with a nasty grin. He knew as well. He knew. And he would do it again, she was sure of it. She hated him, but most of all she was scared. He would not get any gifts this year, she thought…
-Hey! I’ll make you a deal, said Espen from the troll’s hand. Let’s have a singing contest. If you can sing louder and stronger than me, we’ll not only let you eat us, but we’ll even prepare ourselves as the most pleasant meal you’ll ever have. You see, I’m the head chef of the King’s kitchen, and these two are my main assistants.
-What? We’re not – Ouch!
The Ashlad kept talking as his brother Per held his leg. -If you lose, well, you’ll just eat us as you always eat humans.
The troll rubbed his beard for a long while. He tried to figure out why the little creatures would go into such a bet, but soon he forgot all about it. He did want to find out what kind of meal these three cooks could create…
… It had no legs, and the arms seemed to be hidden under its cloth. Its face was old, diffuse, like it wasn’t really there. Mock was wondering if it could be eaten, but had a feeling it couldn’t even be killed. Not with his spear, at least.
-Do you know the way out?
The figure seemed to be looking straight through him, like if he wasn’t there.
“The tunnels are all like tar and resin,
Like sailors’ knots and the spider’s spin
The exit is found at the stop of the top
A stone is tossed when gravity’s lost”
It disappeared in thin air, just as it had arrived…
…One day, deep in the darkest parts of the old library, he found a book. The words pierced his soul like a summer breeze, like soothing honey, like bare feet in warm sea water.
He sunk into a world he had never known, he swam through knowledge and wisdom. He went deeper, touching the truth beyond it all. He knew there would be light in the end of the tunnel.
Two eyes stared at him…