Intermission: Christmas, The End.

December 25, 2009. 12:01 am
It was easily twice Sam’s size, though he couldn’t really be sure. Every time he tried to look at it, his vision blurred slightly, just enough to be noticeable. He was sure, however, that the thing was jagged and cold. Looking on it, his blood chilled, and a shiver ran down his spine, only in part to the freezing air in the throne room. Winter stood, a series of delicate cracks proclaiming its separation from the throne. It held a sword made of i- Sam frowned, squinting his eyes and looking for a hand. No, Winter’s arm terminated in a comically oversized icicle. Sam actually giggled, before he remembered the ice was stinging his face.

At the sound of the laughter, Winter opened one of its mouths and the wind screamed its anger. It threatened to blow Sam over, but he stood his ground, clenched his teeth, and held his sword high. The air shifted and Winter was upon him, swinging and stabbing with its pointed arm. From somewhere, Sam found the speed to match its attacks with the simple blocks his father had taught him. This went on for a long while, the second, closed mouth of the thing holding a sadistic grin. Sam caught a blow on the flat of his sword, held it and laughed loudly. It was half from exhaustion and half from the pure ridiculousness of his situation. Sam had looked up and seen the toy sword he was fighting with. The thing did not like that, and it screamed with both of its mouths, and Sam could feel the encroaching darkness get just a little closer.

Sam let out a yell of his own, breaking the counter and swinging desperately, his sword coming back with slivers of ice stuck to the plastic blade. The thing tried to block, and its pointed arm snapped in half, the toy sword biting into what Sam could only assume was Winter’s heart. Frost and fog streamed from the wound, and the fingers around Sam’s heart first relaxed, then disappeared entirely. The king shuddered once, and started to crack in places. Sam withdrew his sword, and strode into the now calm hallway.

December 25, 2009. 6:35 am
Sebastian, son of Sam, crawled out of his brand new big-boy bed, sneaking carefully up front. He wanted to try and sneak a peek at his presents, and knew his mother wouldn’t be awake so early, and his father either wouldn’t be home, or would be deep asleep on the couch. Either way, Sebastian was seeing just what had been brought in the night. Sebastian frowned in confusion as he eyed the much-abused toy sword leaning against the tree. It was almost as tall as he was. Something was up. In fact, he could swear he saw a pair of black boots behind the tree…

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, big guy?” Samuel stepped out from behind the tree, grinning at his son.

Intermission: Christmas, part 2.

December 21. 2009. 5:50 AM
Sam’s car had been beaten up so badly over the years it was barely recognizable as a car. It was rusted nearly as red as the original paint. It still drove however, and Sam stared cautiously out of the splintered windshield with tired eyes. He reached down and sipped his coffee again. He couldn’t tell how far he’d traveled, because no map had ever been made featuring the road he traveled on. Still, he knew what was coming, and the staccato sound of rocks and other things pelting his car only startled him for a moment, this time. Out the side window he saw the beasts that inhabited this place. Some had too many eyes, or arms, or oddly colored fur. Some of them looked like people, just different. These things on the road were not his concern, and he slammed his foot down on the pedal. He remembered his father’s old motorbike. It had passed down from his grandfather. Sam’s father had crashed it one desperate Christmas eve, but he had gotten home by Christmas morning. Sam wondered if his son would get this car. It wasn’t a bad car, just ugly. This led Sam to wonder if he’d be getting home, and he had to push his thoughts elsewhere.

Sam drove for another hour, he guessed. His watch and the car’s clock stopped working here. A glistening castle the color of the sky loomed ahead, and even though Sam knew it was there, he had trouble seeing it. His car skidded to a turning, spinning stop, and clipped a pair of bells to each glove. He took a few deep breaths, finished his coffee, and opened the door.

He approached the castle gates, and the ice swirling around the place solidified into a pair of human shaped guards. They had of course seen him before. Sam shook his head and took a small piece of cardstock from his coat. He held it up to the guards. “Sam C., Citizen.” It said. The things at the door had seen it many times. Twenty years ago, it had said Sam’s fathers name. Sometime, hopefully in the far future, it would say Sebastian C. The things disappeared, and the gates swung open. Sam cast a final look at the sun, and headed in. The gates swung closed behind him.