Chuck the Elf (a holiday tradition)

This is one of my absolute favorite Christmas stories EVER – of ALL TIME. For a 6th year, I am honored to share a Christmas Story from my friend David. Prepare yourself for a real Christmas treat with this Holiday Classic! David’s work is featured in the WPaD anthologies. ~ Juliette

Chuck the Elf

By David X. Hunter

I was born in the Bronx way back in 1902.

St. Anne’s orphanage was the only home I ever knew till I went north years later. The place was crazy; a lotta little midgets running around makin’ a lotta noise. I guess I was one of ‘em, except I was no midget – I was an elf. I stayed in that place for 30 years until they figured out I wasn’t no kid! So I packed my shit up and hit the road. I joined the army for a while, got into some action at Omaha Beach even. After dat, I never trucked with the military much.

I joined the circus for a while – but the bearded lady and I didn’t get along. The fact was, I couldn’t stand life on the road livin’ wit all them freaks – I was longing for a fambly, if you get my meanin’.

One night, Christmas Eve if you gotta know – I was on the roof of my tenement building because my landlady didn’t like my cigar smoke. She always whiffed it through the vents and complained so I went up on the roof. I was feeling lonesome as hell too, wit the snow fallin’ and all streets quiet and empty. To be honest, I crawled out on the ledge. I was thinkin’ of just ending it. I was just a lowly Elf, livin’ off racetrack bets and scroungin’ for handouts.

I was a Bronx kid, though. I couldn’t do it. Plus, that street looked like it could hurt a guy real bad falling from dat height.

I went back on the roof and finished my stogie, lookin’ up at the twinklin’ snowy sky. It was damned cold. I never felt so bad in my whole life.

I saw sumpin’ then, over the East River. Looked like plane or some kinda flying object. I tracked it for a while and realized it was comin’ right towards me! I ran back and ducked behind a ventilator shaft.

I heard bells, and some guy yelling. I heard da soft thump of somethin’ landing.
Now don’t get me wrong – I ain’t no pansy or nuthin’ – but this was strange. I can deal with stormin’ a beachhead and all, but the unknown always unnerves me, y’know?

I peeked around the corner an I saw animals or somthin’, shakin’ snow off themselves. Everytime they did that, bells would jingle. There was some fat shmoe sittin’ in a red sled too. All of a sudden I hear my name!

“Charles! Charles! Come out from behind there!”

There was a silence as I was trying to figure out what to do.

“Who wants ta know?” I said after a while.

I peeked over my hiding spot and saw the lard-ass comin’ towards me. He was big – triple my size – but I figured if I bit his knee caps the odds would be evened out.
He stuck his head around the vent, and stared right at me.

“Charles! I found you!” he said. He had dis soppy smile on his face, what you could see of it anyway with that friggin’ large white beard.

“Listen Mack …” I started to say.

“Charles! You must come with me! You don’t belong here. You belong up at the North Pole with the others!”

I looked at dis guy and thought he was nuts. “You shittin’ me?”

He straightened up and crinkled his nose.

“I’m afraid I’m not! You are an Elf, of the elfus smallicus genus. All my staff up at the North Pole is comprised of Elves. You see, you were given up for adoption by mistake.”

I looked up at the guy, and I could see he was tellin’ da truth. Others like me? Elves? For true?

Dat was the one and only time I cried – at least since that time I pooped my pants back at the Orphanage and the sister swatted me a good one.

“Come! You can help me give out presents tonight, then we can take you home,” he said. He wedged his large ass back into the sled, and I followed. There wasn’t much space between his girth and all them sacks’a toys for me to sit, but I managed.

He tole me about his toy making racket and all the right-offs he got for it. Pretty slick, I had to agree. We shot up inna sky and I was dubious about them moose things haulin’ us up into the stratosphere and all, but they maintained a good speed, except for the turbulence which I didn’t care for.

All night long we delivered them friggin toys, all over the damned world, Australia, England, and places I never hoid of, like ‘Canada’. I was so tired by the end, I thought I’d collapse. But this guy, Santa, he had a mini bar in his sled and I had a few shots of whiskey. We delivered our last toy to some kid in Montana – a train set. We went down the chimney (I still couldn’t get over goin’ down them tings!). I was placin’ it under the tree when I heard a noise. I look over and see the kid peeking around the corner at me.

“Ain’t polite to stare, kid,” I said. “Murry Christmas.”

Da kid scampered off.

Not even ten minutes into our journey north I was out like a light.

So, I went to the North Pole. I met my mom! Saw all the udder elves like me. It was a happy homecoming, I gotta say. Still, I miss New York sometimes, even though I visit occasionally. I miss the smell of the Hudson, the rude people, the street vendors selling junk, Coney Island hot dogs, the racetrack, all of it. But it ain’t so bad up here; got lotsa snow, plenty of fresh air, and the pay is good. Made foreman a few years ago; I’m in charge of making them iPad thingies. Big responsibility. The uniforms could use some revamping, but y’can’t have everything, am I right?

I guess I didn’t do so bad after all, y’know?

The End

Short Story Sunday: Christmas Orphans (a short random tale)

Tangled Tales

Christmas Orphans (a short random tale)

“Why do I have eyes of different colors? The brown eye is my own. The blue eye is a different story. I plucked it from the freshly dead body of a young Irish nun. She’d killed herself because she had a vision that the child she was carrying, the child of the handsome young priest, was the Antichrist.”

“Why were you there Uncle Jeff?” A young voice in a hushed whisper asked.

“Because, my dear, I was the handsome young priest. That was before the life I live now. But I still see visions of angels and of a family in a warm embrace of love, then the fires of Hell with dancing devils and…”

“JEFF. STOP IT,” I yelled. “You’re going to give them nightmares.”

I know better than to ask my crazy brother to tell Christmas stories to my children and their young cousins.

“But, Simon, the stories are true,” my brother said as if he believed what he was saying.

“Kids, don’t listen to him. He’s blowing stories out of his…out of his ears.”

“Did I tell you about the time I met Santa Claus?”

“Jeff, no more storytelling.”

“It was the winter of 1969.”

“Jeff you were a toddler in 1969.”

“You have no idea how old I really am. Brother I have secrets that will make your head explode. Now children, the rest of the researchers on the Arctic research station had died of a mysterious illness. Then the giant polar two ton bears came. I’ll never forget the sound of them crunching on the bones of my friends.”

“Giant two ton polar bears?”

My brother and the children ignored me as he continued his tale. “I wouldn’t let them eat the dogs so we took off with the sled north, following the stars. Frozen and hungry, my body could take no more. Out of my blue eye I could see my angel Bernadette, the nun I’d loved. Her visions…”

“Jeff!”

“Then I heard bells. Not big bells like the Liberty Bell, but small happy bells. A lot of bells. I thought I was in a dream. My dogs huddled close. Then we saw them. The Zombies…”

I went to the kitchen for a beer. My wife and Jeff’s weird Goth girlfriend were talking about how to make the perfect prime rib.

Spotting my sister Libby out on the deck I went out to join her.

“It’s cold out.”

“Cold but not as weird as it is inside.”

“Do you think there is any truth to his stories.”

“I don’t know. He has memories of before we were found. All the records still say we were abandoned at the rest stop outside of Barstow. Nobody came forward to claim us. We’re related for sure, the DNA tests prove that, and we look like each other  but…”

My sister shrugged. “I did more research but didn’t find anything. Nothing. It is like we were dropped by aliens.”

“Or Santa Claus.” I said.

We were found on Christmas Day, three toddlers. Our dad was the highway patrolman who found us. Jeff was the oldest, then Libby and I was just a baby. The doctors figured Jeff was around three, Libby maybe two and I was a newborn. We were all wearing hand knitted Christmas sweaters and red Santa hats.

Our life was happy and normal with our new parents. They loved us unconditionally. They still do.

I never thought about who might have left us at the rest stop with typed notes saying “Merry Christmas. Please keep us together,” pinned on our sweaters.

Libby and I went back inside to catch the end of Jeff’s story.

“In the morning Santa and I sat on the beach listening to the crashing waves. I passed him the bottle of whiskey we were sharing and he put his hand on back and said “Good job son, good job.”

~ End

 

here comes santa

All Animals Love Santa

I know some of you might have seen this before but I LOVE this story, even if I did write it. I’m off to get my Christmas tree and put my house back in order after getting new carpet. I have about 1,000 books to put back on shelves. I also cut the end off of one of my index fingers a few days ago and using a keyboard is somewhat difficult right now. Have fun whatever you’re doing. New stuff from me will come soon – I promise.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Silver Webs and Silken Bats

Silver Webs and Silken Bats

Oh right, I do have a husband. I write about kids, my brothers, other Vampires, Werewolves, Ghosts, cats, short stories and all sorts of things. I don’t say much about my husband or marriage.

Today he is helping the Elders decorate for Christmas.

He found old netting of silver spider webs and long strings of red glass beads to add to the old fragile ornaments they put up every year.

Over the past few years they stopped decorating but Teddy (my husband) decided they needed a tree.

In the attic he found boxes of hand blown glass owls, small wooden elves from Germany, tiny little bats made of beaded black silk and a large hat box full of shining stars and crescent moons with smiling faces.

Just because you’re old doesn’t mean you need to stop celebrating.

“But who will see the tree?” The ancient Vampires looked confused.

“You will see it,” said Teddy. “I will see it. Your friends will stop by and see it. You need to pick up the phone and call your friends, both Vampires and humans. Call your old Werewolf friends too, I don’t care who you like. If they’re old let me know and I’ll give them a ride here and I’ll give them a ride home. I’ll make them egg nog. I’ll help you make it happen for everyone.”

Tellias and Eleora look young but they’re ancient. They’re older than Christmas, so sometimes they get confused or feel isolated. Sometimes they forget everything outside of their own house.

Teddy always hounds me to call my friends and people I know who might need a friend. We all know what it is like to spend a holiday alone or without cheer of others. Even a little tree or a wreath or a shining star on a string can make a difference. More than that a hug or a call.

Christmas time is about the promise of peace and hope and love. After 2019 years the human race still hasn’t gotten it right, but maybe one day. The smallest acts of kindness can move us closer in that direction.

Wishing you all a season of peace and fellowship.

And about that husband of mine…I’m glad I married him. I always will be.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

time for christmas

It is now time for the annual Vampire Holiday Sing-A-Long!

 

It is now time for the annual Vampire Holiday Sing-A-Long!

 

On the first day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

A Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the second day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Two Vials of Blood

And A Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the third day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And A Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the fourth day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the fifth day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Bram Stoker’s Heart

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the sixth day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Six Ghosts a Laughing

Bram Stoker’s Heart

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the Seventh Day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Seven Mermaids Swimming

Six Ghosts a Laughing

Bram Stoker’s Heart

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the Eighth Day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Eight Black Cats Hissing

Seven Mermaids Swimming

Six Ghosts a Laughing

Bram Stoker’s Heart

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the Ninth Day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Nine Vampires Dancing

Eight Black Cats Hissing

Seven Mermaids Swimming

Six Ghosts a Laughing

Bram Stoker’s Heart

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the Tenth Day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Ten Moonlit Nights

Nine Vampires Dancing

Eight Black Cats Hissing

Seven Mermaids Swimming

Six Ghosts a Laughing

Bram Stoker’s Heart

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Eleven Necks to Bite

Ten Moonlit Nights

Nine Vampires Dancing

Eight Black Cats Hissing

Seven Mermaids Swimming

Six Ghosts a Laughing

Bram Stoker’s Heart

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

__

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas my Vampire gave to me

Twelve Banshees Screaming

Eleven Necks to Bite

Ten Moonlit Nights

Nine Vampires Dancing

Eight Black Cats Hissing

Seven Mermaids Swimming

Six Ghosts a Laughing

Bram Stoker’s Heart

Four Howling Wolves

Three Bat Skulls

Two Vials of Blood

And a Raven in a Dead Tree

sing-along-vampire

Happy Holidays and Ho Ho Ho. Keep checking back for new Christmas stories, holiday games, musings, and of course Vlad’s Vampire Diary.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Burning Question #39: Krampus is Coming to Town!

December is here so it is time for Burning Questions Holiday Editions.

kra-cr

Saint Nick aka Santa brings joy and toys to kids who are good. But what about everyone who is bad? We have Krampus for that job. Unfortunately he has been a little lax of late.

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Seriously I wish Krampus had been around for a few of the psychotic brats my children went to school with. 99% of the kids were good but then there were those holy terrors and their holy terror parents.

mikulas_a_krampus_1901

Krampus is a Northern European and/or German creature. He drags away bad children. I imagine he might even snag a few adults. We can only hope.

grussvonkrampus

But if you’re here I am sure you know who Krampus is. If not look at all of the charming pictures I’ve posted here. As you can see he was quite the party animal too.

Burning Question #39: Should Krampus Be More Active in 2018

 

So have you been naughty or nice? Will Krampus be knocking at your door. He won’t knock, he’ll just come in and drag you down to hell.

Feel free to leave your own comments about Krampus, December, holiday stuff, or anything else that you have to get off of your chest (including your cat.)

And CLICK HERE for my Krampus story from 2017. I will be posting that again along with all of my other holiday posts and more NEW Christmas related posts.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

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Red Dress, White Trim, A Dancing Ghost and the Quiet Musings of a Vampire Mom

December is almost here…

Red Dress, White Trim, A Dancing Ghost and the Quiet Musings of a Vampire Mom

She was a shining light in the forest, not a ghost who haunts but a ghost who dances to her own music.

I watched from my window as Mary danced in the woods. She wore not clothing of the 15th century when she lived, but a red mini dress with white fur trim on the hem and bell shaped sleeves. A long Santa had was on her head with a fluffy white ball at the tip. Bells adorned the top of her white over-the-knee boots. Her red-brown hair was braided with gold ribbon. When you’re a ghost you can wear what you want, do what you want, dance and love when you want.

That is if you don’t let your own ghosts get in the way. That was Mary.

Had it been any other ghost she would have annoyed the crap out of me, but since it was Mary I was enchanted. She is like a little elf who haunts my kitchen as she sits in front hot cups of coffee taking in the aroma. We chat about romance and fashion. She is a delightful little spirit.

Sometimes she slips and shows her own bloody and mangled murdered form but today she dances with joy to a long lost Christmas song.

A coyote yipped close by, down in the brush and Mary vanished. Damn coyotes. The cats lifted their heads at the noise. My dog didn’t even acknowledge the existence of her coyote cousins. Had it been a Golden Retriever she would have been all over it’s ass, but she had no time for coyotes.

Just as most Vampires have no time for ghosts.

I stood in front of the window with a glass of red wine in my hand watching the rain. My husband Teddy came up behind me and kissed my neck.

“What color do you want to paint the living room?”

“I don’t know. It depends on what color flooring we get,” I said putting my arms around his neck and kissing him.

I know that has nothing to do with ghosts but it has everything to do with how things go around my house. Just little bits, like a fragment of a song or just a small bite of something good.

His face turned a little bit serious. “Clara said one of her fangs is bothering her.”

Not again I thought. Teens can get sloppy and are always hurting themselves. It isn’t anything anybody would notice, but it IS always something Mom (that means me) has to take care of.

“I’ll take care of it. Did you see the ghost darling?”

He missed her unfortunately. And so we started our evening discussing the news of the day, work, our kids, what color we want to paint the walls, what we’d wear to the next black tie party and other things married people talk about. What? Did you think we talk about spider webs, bats and blood all night? Hardly. We’re no Dracula and Elvira. Nobody we know is that.

Teddy asked me if I was going to tell anymore Christmas stories here. I think I will. I will also repost The Travelers (my favorite Christmas story) soon.

In the meantime, just imagine a tiny young transparent woman dancing in her red mini dress under the canopy of oak trees to the music of Tchaikovsky and Johnny Marks.

Have a lovely December,

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman