They danced in a clearing in the woods, danced in silence. Seven naked bodies, seven naked souls. Now the oldest … More
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’s coming this way! Jerome the bell-ringer was shouting, almost screaming, his heart beating wildly. -Please, God! Help us!
Father Juan was staring towards the horizon. They had heard the rumours. A monster. Centipede body, mantis eyes. Big as a mountain. Destroying villages, castles and cities along its way.
-Only one thing can save us now… Come, follow me!
Jerome hurried after the priest as he ran down the stairs of the clock tower. They entered the door to the private chambers. A staircase went deep down underneath the cathedral cellars, a staircase Jerome never knew existed. At the end of a long corridor rusty hinges shrieked as the priest pulled an old door open.
The room was dark and humid, smelled of rot and dirt. The light from the fire torch fell on a small crystal box in a corner. The book inside was old, very old. It had strange marks on it, runes and symbols. Unholy…
Every day he sat by the river side, meditating to the sound of the waterfalls. There was nowhere in the world he felt more connected than right here, nowhere he felt closer to himself, to the Universe. Nowhere he could see clearer.
Today he had gone up there before the sun went up. He sat there all day, the river always changing, always the same.
He sat there through the morning, through the afternoon. The sun was going down in a distance, and nowhere else. There was no need to go anywhere else, no need to change.
He drifted on into himself, into eternity. So deep, so real. So present.
He saw something, in the mist…
I’ve recycled one of my older illustrations on this one, since I’m kind of on vacation. The original story, which is very different, can be read here: Knossos
They stood in silence. They had lost the rest of the group in the darkness. They had been walking through the tunnels for a long time.
They could hear the loud brawl from somewhere down the halls, echoing between the walls. It was coming closer, from all sides at once.
We need to get out of here! Derkylos’ voice trembled.
There is no way out, Melegros answered, resigned. We’re lost. He was holding Alcmene’s hand.
The brawl came closer. A scream. One of the girls. Another. Then a boy.
Come on, we have to get out of here! Alcmene pulled Melegros up on his feet. The three of them ran down a staircase, passed a corner. The screams continued.
A light. Somewhere down the hallway they saw a little light in the tunnel.
Run! We can make it!
Melegros stopped. That’s not daylight.
They were eyes… (more)