Bitter truths: A Christmas story.

    (photo by Holger Droste)

"Persephone get dressed, another batch has arrived, hurry!"

The girl moaned, she hated being awaken like this do deal with something that repulsed her. Her limbs still ached from her husband's late night visit. She needed more sleep, definitely more sleep.
"On Christmas Day? Must be bitter to die on Christmas..." she muttered.
"It's bitter to die on any day, my queen. Now you mush hurry, he's already at the lakes" he old woman said placing a white linen dress on her bed.
"I bet he's thrilled!" she said pulling the cold linen over her head. "More toys for him to play with ...the necrophiliac!" she added, bitterness and anger dripping thick on the floor.
"If he were what you say, he wouldn't have you, would he now?...You'll get used to him and his ways.." the old woman said brushing her golden hair with a gold-crusted bone comb. "He is good at what he does" she added, "And anyway...in a few more months you'll be able to go home again.."
"Only to come back here..I hate him.." Persephone said but the old woman pretended not to hear.

Barefoot, she walked out on the damp street and was startled to find a large silver moon hanging from the sky. She stared at it wide-eyed, trying to work out what it meant and why He has gone into so much trouble. The moon looked real, the wet streets reflected its pale light making everything around her look brilliantly...dead. Her spirits fell.
When she got to the mucky river she saw the boat empty already and Jack counting his gold.

"Merry Christmas Jack...you busy bee." she added and sat down on the mucky concrete river bank. The black waters below her sizzled with the silvery moonlight and even the ancient boat glistered with it here and there. Jack, however, like a black hole sucked all the light within him and reflected none.
He raised his head, lowered his cloak and looked over him.  His black, volcanic eyes with long lashes like spider legs, rested on her feet for a moment before locking on her transparent eyes. His pale mouth was immediately drawn into a smile the stubble on his chin and cheeks barely noticeable.

"Merry Christmas Persephone. " he said in his warm, husky voice. "Got you a little present!" he said and she saw his hand rummaging his right pocket.
"What is it?" she asked her hands into a prayer over her chest.
"Oh I little something I found while picking up customers." he said, raised his bony arm to the sky and shook his palm.
The thing jingled.
His white palm was warm to the touch though her hand was dead cold. The little golden bell let out a chocked squeal as she lifted it to her eyes.
"Pretty." she said
"That's what I thought too." Jack said, "I immediately thought of you." he added
He locked his eyes on hers and she felt herself drawn to him like a bee to the honey. Death was warm and sweet.
Once he sensed his affect on her, he pulled his eyes away and bent low to pick up his oars.
"I've got to run, there are more waiting for me on the other end..."
"Busy day.." Persephone said.
"Christmas is.." he added and raised his hand in goodbye as the boat slithered away. He was quickly lost in the mist.

Persephone jingled the bell once more. Its sound sent ripples over the water and made the moon shiver. She pecked it and tucked it in her breast. She knew she was late so she started to run.

The Dead Body Driver: A Christmas Story

Part 1: The meeting

I always get homesick when I am away from home, why would now be any different? I'm thousands of miles away from my hometown in China, walking down Oxford street, all alone on Chrstmas Eve; not that it means anything to me other than I have nothing to do and noone to talk to.
They could have waited until after the holidays to send me to this tinsel-infested city but no, I had to come now to recruit new sales representatives for my hardware company....how stupid can you get?

My feet stop in front of the strangest pub I have ever seen so far, my jaw drops as I stare at the hellish entrance..

"The Bucket of Blood"

I wonder whether they serve food with that.

I enter the Bucket of Blood and the blast of the music hurts my ears; THUNDER! Ahh ahhh ahh THUNDER! THUNDERSTRUCK!

"Half a pint lager please." I answer the polite request of the bar woman whose face is painfully covered in silver earrings. Her hair is completely shaved and I can see the strange tattoos on the skin of her skull...this is a strange place indeed!

The beer tastes good, the music is too loud and the open coffin gaping next to me gives me the chills.

"Merry Christmas" I mutter to the skull perched on top of the shiny cask and raise my glass.

"Paying respect to the dead shows intelligence and culture!"
My neck snaps to the left towards the booming voice that manages to blanket the music almost completely.
Rubbing the side of my neck I look at the bulky, bearded man standing next to me gesturing to the bar woman for a refill.

"Of course, as a Chinese man yourself, you have both.." he said.
"Have what?" I asked still observing, perhaps rudely, the giant next to me.
"Intelligence and culture..." he said picking up a beer glass the size of a bucket into his meaty hands.
"The name is Ian. Very Pleased to meet you."
"Enders." I answered and raised my glass.
"So, What brings you here Enders?" he asked raising a bushy eyebrow.
"Boredom!"
"No, I mean the country.." He added
"How do you know I am new to the country?"
"You smell like airport."
"I came two days ago! Anyway, I am recruiting."
"Bloody Hell!" He shouted and I almost fell off my stool, "So Am I! What are you looking for?"
"Sales representatives for my company in Shanghai."
Ian laughed and shook his head.
"I know it's pathetic....and you?"
"I am looking for someone to help me on my next trip." the man said and emptied his glass.
"Are you a scientist?"
"No" Ian said and banged his glass on the counter. "I work for the Dead Body Driver." he announced and waved for a refill.
My eyes are glued on the bearded face.

"So you do know what I am talking about.....I'm glad! I'll skip all the time-consuming introductions.
Since you are a lonely man and  have nothing to do on this Christmas Eve...what do you say Enders, would you join me?"

"I'm not sure we are talking about the same thing, Ian. A dead body driver is a Chinese legend about a priest leading a group of dead bodies back to their hometown to be buried. The priest puts a special mark on their foreheads and makes them walk into the night over mountains and forests..There was a documentary about it.. "

"Yes, that's about it..." he said and nodded wildly.
"Are you the priest?"
"No no...I am recruiting people FOR the priest.."
"You are joking right? This is London..there are no such things are dead body drivers...it is a Chinese legend I saw once on TV.."
"Why don't you come with me and find out?" Ian repeated with a wide smile.


"Go with you where exactly?"
"To meet the Driver and help to escort the bodies..it sounds kind romantic, doesn't it?"
"Why don't you load the bodies onto a truck and drive them home literally?"

"What's the fun in that?" Ian said and emptied his glass.






................................................................................................................................................................
Part 2:  Ender's Journey


  At the break of dawn on Christmas day Ian was waiting for me at the entrance of the small B&B where I was staying. He was standing in front of a wrecked yellow van, smoking a cigar.
"Merry Christmas" he said and took a deep drag before dropping the tortured, wet butt on the ground.
"Where are we going?" I asked skipping the formalities.
"North..." he said. "You'll see, you are going to like it..."
"I'm not sure about that.." I said and climbed on the yellow van which had a strong smell of tobacco and a visible layer of filth everywhere I looked.

Since it was so early and a holiday we were able to leave London behind us in no time. Ian was driving silently and I dozed off, my chin stuck on the mucky window, my cheek slapping the cold glass at every bump on the road.

More than two hours later, I felt the van stop but didn't open my eyes. I thought that if we had arrived, Ian would say so. There were a few moments of silence. The door of the van opened and something heavy and metallic was thrown inside. It made a lot of noise and so I opened my eyes just in time to see Ian sitting on the driver's seat.
"What was that?"

                                                        .                .                .

Ian went back to the van and brought out two heavy shovels, one of which was supposed to be mine.


"In order to drive them, we have to dig them out first!" he said casually and walked through the broken gate.
"They are already IN the ground, why do we have to dig them out?" I shouted running behind him, having already regretted the whole thing.

"They have unfinished business...we have to make sure they... fulfill their purpose.." he said and took out a piece of paper out of his pocket.
"Now be quite and let me find the right graves...we don't want to dig out the wrong people, do we?"
he said and walked up the hill among the half buried tomb stones.
I looked around me holding the heavy shovel in my hand thinking. If worse comes to worst, I will smash his head with the shovel, take the van, go back to London, pick up my things and run to the airport...
"This is the one!" I heard Ian shout in the distance.
Holding in the shovel in my hands I walked up the hill.



"This is the first one. "Ian said hearing my footsteps behind him.
"It is a very old grave Ian. There would nothing in there but bones...this is not how it supposed to be done..."
"Appearances don't count Enders. Now lets get to work. The whole thing must be done today."
"On Christmas? Why?"
He turned around and eyed me suspiciously.
"You ask too many questions...Don't tell me you are afraid already.."
"Where is the Dead Body Driver? Isn't he going to come?" asked gripping the shovel.
"Oh, the Driver will be here soon. Now lets start digging, shall we?"

To make matters worse, Ian pulled out of his pocket a red Santa Claus hat, placed it on his bushy hair and smiled.

"It is Christmas after all! Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way.." he sang and hit the ground hard with his shovel.
I shook my head, took a deep breath and followed suit.

It didn't take us long to hit the wooden box.
"Are we going to open it?" I asked apprehensively.
"No, not yet. Let's dig out the other two. This way..."he said pointing to the right.
                                 .                    .                    .

I worked silently under the dull sky with Ian's Christmas singing in my ears never letting the heavy shovel out of my hands. I could have thrown him inside the grave he was so furiously digging at any time but I guess curiosity took the best of me.
A couple of hours later all three rotten boxes were laying on the ground side by side.
"Right on time." Ian said looking in the distance behind me.  "The Dead Body Driver is here and she's right on time!"

(photo by takeyourhatred@deviantart)

Dusk, like a veil, fell over the hill. The trees had turned into ghostly, dark silhouettes dancing mutely in the cold wind. It was as if all sound was sucked up by the cloaked, tiny figure I saw climbing up the hill. I watched her mesmerised feeling my heart fluttering like a caged bird inside my rib cage.
 Upon reaching the top, she came to a half and slowly pulled down her black hood releasing her fiery locks over her shoulders.

Amidst the falling darkness, her face was glowing.

"Hello Enders." She said to me in a soft voice though I did not see her lips move. "I am glad you came. Ian you did well."
Ian had bowed his head, his chin touching his chest and he did not look up until she stood over the boxes.
"They are ready for you my Mistress." he said.
The woman raised her eyes and pinned them in mine. Her eyes matched her hair..

"Who are you?" I muttered
"I am the Driver, Enders." she said and with wave of her hand the three boxes broke open revealing the remains of the those who had been buried decades, perhaps centuries ago.
"Why them?" I asked "Where are you supposed to take them?"
"Me?" said asked and bent down to them. "No, not me Enders. I am merely the Driver. It is you that will give the flame that will bring life back into them Enders." she said caressing the rotting limbs.
"It is you who will be the Giver on this blessed Christmas Day." she said and her eyes filled with blood which trickled down her cheeks staining her moon-like face.

"What are you?" I asked stepping back. "This is not right, you are not right. I am leaving now..."
I said and turned around to leave only to find that I hadn't moved a bit.

"What magic is this?" I asked and turned around again.
"It's Christmas magic, Enders. The most powerful kind..."the Driver said
"Ho Ho Ho." added Ian looking at me playfully.

Above the broken bones they made me lie and though I was not pinned down, I couldn't move.
She sang a Christmas song gently into my ear and then she bend low over my neck. The singing had stopped.
 ..........................................................

"Sir...SIR! WAKE UP SIR! This is not the place to sleep..."
I opened my eyes and was instantly blinded by the light around me.
"Where am I?" I whispered.
"At St. Pancras railway station, sir. Are you a passenger?"
"A passenger? No!"
I stood up, feeling very weak and numb all over. "Which city is this?" I asked.
"London, sir. Are you feeling alright, would you like me to take you to the police station?"
"No, no thank you. I'll manage."
"Happy New Year Sir, take care now.."
"Merry Christmas  you mean...It's Christmas today..."
"No." the man said slowly. "Christmas was last week. Today is New Year's Day."
"No, that can't be.." I mumbled.
"I assure you that it is. Good day sir." said the man in the uniform and walked away.

The collectors. A Christmas story.

    The cold, white night was piercing my bones as I walked hurriedly home.
Colourful lights were blinking at me from windows, doors and trees, because this was a Christmas night, a full moon Christmas night that is and because I never really liked the cold round face staring down at me from above, I was happy to notice that this night was so cloudy that no round face could follow me as I walked down the familiar path home.
I wish to repeat the melodramatic bit of the story; this was a Christmas night, a glorious night, where people celebrated, families gathered and lovers kissed..though I was alone. A lonely man away from home.

With every breath I took white steam escaped from my mouth, I watched the dancing ghosts of breath disolve and fade into the night.. the perfect metaphora...I was like an old steam train but with nowhere else to go but home to a microwave dinner and the tv.
The rusty church gate was left open as every night, though tonight the snow made the yard look like a puff of cloud. I cross this deserted church yard every evening since it cuts the distance home down to a half and it has found a place in my heart. The few Poplar trees whose leaves applaude the wind that always blows in this patch of land... the tiny church that noone enters anymore, as lonely as I am....

With these mellow thoughts I cross the yard tonight, hearing my boots crush the crunchy snow until music made me look up at the tiny church..
well... look at that,(I paused).... the church is open... there are people inside singing a Christmas hymn..how nice..

I follow the narrow path down to the other side and from the corner of my I eye I catch a glimpse of a woman, a beautiful willowy woman walking towards the chapel, wearing white..

"Won't you come inside?" a mellow voice behind me said.
I turned around and what a surprise, an angel was standing right before me, with a stunning smile on her ruby lips.
"Please, won't you escort a lonely lady on this lovely Christmas Eve?" she said with imploring eyes.
"Listen to that angelic song...Don't you think it's worth taking the time?"
Indeed, I could hear the soft, divine song, a girl's voice sang a Christmas song and even though I could not make out the words I was entranced. The candle-lit windows seemed so inviting and warm, they cast a spell on me.
She came closer, the gorgeous woman all dressed in white and touched my arm with her long delicate fingers. Such a perfect, outworldly face I thought and sighed. How and why could I refuse such a request..escorting a glorious lady to church..
And so I let her slender arm slither around mine and together we trod the untouched snow towards the charming, little chapel.
I pushed the door open and the lady walked inside, the candle light warmed my face and the girl sounded  even more divine as I went in.

The door closed behind me with a heavy thud.

The lights, the song had gone.
The church lay derelict and empty. The round moon had escaped its cloudy prison and now cast its silver light violently on me since there was no roof to keep it out...rumble and ruins was all I saw around me and in panic I searched for the lovely lady that had lured me in.

They were both there, standing under the flood of silver light, looking at me with a faint smile drawn on their lips.
I ran for the door, I pushed with all my might but the door had sealed.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHO ARE YOU? What kind of magic is this?" I screamed and wept.
They looked at eachother tenderly and then the woman nodded to the girl who took a step forward and unbuttoned her fury, white coat and let it drop on the floor.

Underneath, she was wearing a white night-gown, her small slender arms hung loose on her sides, she looked so small and fragile..
Just then I noticed that the skin which lay bare below her throat rippled in an abnormal way.
A hand, I swear, I saw a hand move beneath her skin and then another, the girl's body convulsed and then her skin started to break. A face was drawn behind her feeble night gown where her waist was supposed to be and then the girl fell backwards.

I screamed as these demons burst out of her and glidded like ghosts towards me; horrid and ghastly, putrid and abhorrent. I stepped backwards, tripped on a wooden plank and fell.
Unbearable pain burnt my back; I couldn't move.

The woman's face shone above me next to the face of the blinding moon and then the ghostly things came over my chest.
"Don't be afraid," she sang to me "They'll collect what they need and then you'll go.."
"Please.."I muttered
I felt the woman's cold fingers caressing my forehead and saw the ripples at the base of her neck and then bony hands were formed before her skin broke and those things came out.
"What do you want?", I cried "Please...please.."
They rested above my chest and then in unison they started cutting my skin. I could feel  their teeth and nails and felt my blood before I saw it soaking my blouse and heard the scream, my scream echoing on the walls. Right then the things went for my mouth.

I woke up in the snow, inside the broken church. My back still throbbed when I stood on my two feet and like a maniac took off my coat and blouse; the blood had dried but it was still there.
I searched my chest, looking for the wound or the cut that those witches had inflicted on me but there was nothing, not even a scratch. Nothing but the blood on my clothes.

I feel empty, horrified and contaminated. Will I ever know what it was they took or will I have to wait for next Christmas to find out?