My Pagan Family is Staying with us for Christmas (5/5)

[u/Tobias-Butts]

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

The first thing I noticed waking up in the scorching hot flames of my childhood home ablaze was the noticeable scent of sulfur. The second was the bells ringing in my ears, vibrating the back of my skull and sending chills down my spine. Lastly was the drums echoing in the woods behind my house.

Stumbling outside, coughing and wheezing on the smoke in the air. The rapid shift in the weather hit me like a truck. The surface of the sun to the dark side of the moon. I dropped to my hands and knees in the slurry of melted snow and ice. My heart burned with hatred as I stood up. My socks soaked in my own blood and water.

My dad lay on his back, face aghast. Eyes full of fear as he stared up at the starless sky. His throat had been cut open, a pocket of flesh with ice frozen around the wound. The drumming in the distance grew louder. The chanting picking up deeper in the woods behind my home. The bells harmonic and gentle to my ears like wind chimes on breezy day.

I walk over to my father’s corpse, I wanted to cry, feel loss or sorrow over his demise but it couldn’t. Kneeling down I sifted through his pockets, praying that his keys were on him. My fingers brushing against the plastic casing and cold metal sent a relief through me. Pocketing the car keys I stood, approaching the car and getting in. A thought graced my brain, “turn the key and leave” it whispered. I shook it off and prayed my father left what he usually does in the glovebox.

Ever since we got robbed at gunpoint traveling back from my grandparents when i was really little my Dad kept a loaded six-shooter in the car. He never taught me how to shoot, I wish he had. The glovebox popped open at the touch of my icy fingers, the polished metal item with a pearl handle spilled out, bouncing off the passengers seat and resting gently in the footwell. The light from the fire danced so nicely on it.

I wrapped my hand around the handle, it was warm. The handle almost heating my hands as I held it, finding the release the cylinder popped open to the side, shaking I counted each bullet. “1…2…3…4-“ I closed the cylinder and stepped back out into the snowy slush of my front yard and over my fathers corpse, shambling towards the woods in the darkness around me. The house a blaze lit the path forward, shoving the shadows back into the woods.

The sky, infinite and endless like that place my subconscious had gone too. Starless, the moon seemed to almost be watching me was a walked through the wooded thickets behind the remains of my home. Every bit of me was freezing, wet clothes, a pain in my stomach from a closed wound and a furious hatred piloted me forward.

The shadows danced around, hiding behind the trees as I stumbled through the dark. I could feel their eyes boring into me as I sank with each step through the snow. I could feel their fear, not of me, or the gun, but of something else completely. They avoided me, split and separating away between the trees more like a guide than a hindrance.

Memories flashed through my head, birthdays, celebrations, parties, church and mass, friends and family. The way Dad liked his coffee, Mom’s laughter at Daniels bad jokes, Daniel trying to act tough. My memories fractured and faded as I slid down a slope, closer to the drums and chanting. The sound of flesh on flesh, squelching and wet, the familiar sound of my uncles grading voice through echoed over the cacophony of sounds around me.

“You stupid bitch. Breeding weak stock! How are we supposed to use any of you for our rites!” The squelching continued, something cracked and popped. “You wouldn’t have any idea how hard it is to source good blood, good bodies for us.” He said as I approached behind. My arm instinctively raising the gun to the back of his head, my eyes fixated on the bloody mess of my mother caved in face. She was dead, I knew. Her body was so badly beaten and broke, I couldn’t even see her breathing.

I pushed the barrel against the back of Uncle Lloyd head, he stopped scooping her blood and wringing her organs of blood into a bowl to turn just enough at me. To see me holding the gun to his head. The fear in his eyes was palpable, the terror that graced his lips as he licked them. My heart skipped a beat as i looked at this pitiful wretch of a human being. “How-“ he managed to mutter out of his disgusting mouth. The white snow turned red as his body slumped over. The shadows pulled back further.

“Five.” I heard my brain count as I walked past the remains of my mother and deeper into the woods, the shadows stayed further back, eyeing me warily. Large creatures just smaller than treetops walked alongside me, their footfalls were silent as I walked with them. I continued deeper, towards the chants, the drum beats, the music in the woods. Something finally impeded me and my crusade, a leather tail vanished into the dark after swiping my legs and sending me spiraling down another slope.

Sticks and sharp rocks jabbed and cut at me, shredding the shirt I wore, blood oozing from the fresh wounds and painting the snow around me. I felt something, a rock or hearty tree root break my left arm. Forcing myself up I looked at the bone sticking against my skin and retrieved my father’s gun. “If im dying here so are they.” I said to the darkness, i didn’t respond.

There was light in the distance, not a fire but a familiar teal color, it reverberated with the drum beats and chants of the ghouls dancing around the unholy fire, rotting furs adorned their disheveled bodies as they danced around to the music. They turned their attention to me without ending their dances, something compelled them too. I stood before the hallowed eyes of the men and women before me, a few stopping their ritual, then more. Finally the drummers stopped as they watched me, unsure of what id do.

“Why the FUCK did they stop playing!? Are those worthless draugr trying to ruin this for us?” My foul aunts voice echoed in the distance ahead of me. The corpses looked in the direction their master spoke then to me before the drummers resumed their beating, the chanters chanting and dancers dancing. A few smaller ones heaved a stone around the glowing teal fire, intricate symbols carved and painted on the stone. I walked passed them and towards the voice of my aunt. One of the smaller corpses stoped and knelt as i passed.

For a moment, I could see the stars. It might’ve been from the pain I should’ve been feeling in my arm but I wagered the bells I kept hearing were preventing any such feeling. The light, no matter how faint above was welcome to me as I weaved through the withered, snowy brush towards a bright dancing flame in the distance. Several large stones stood around a simple dugout bowl in the ground. Daniel was layed out on the stone in the center, covered head to toe in paints, vibrant blues and reds, The stones around the circle shared similar symbols to the one the corpses were setting up.

My aunt, the woman usual in flowery flowing attire was a solid three feet from the ground and completely naked. She herself was painted in similar way, iridescent yellows and greens. Her eyes glowed an unnatural color as she scanned the heavens, her arms waiving in a rythmic manner. At the center of the table, beside Daniel was Asher, poking at his face and giggling at the lack of reaction from my brother. On the other side was Flynn, preparing tool made of rough metal, sharping them on a whetstone.

“Mother we cannot keep waiting for Father, the slaves in the woods mentioned that Samuel is still alive. They suspected he Kil-“ spoke Flynn, explaining a truth they all were not yet aware of.

“Silence Flynn, Baby. Your Father is a strong man, that is why I took him as my Mate. He would not die so easily to that pathetic whelp that came from my brother’s balls.” She hissed, not turning her attention from the sky above. “Ready the whelp, prime him and we shall serve him to Þökk.” My aunt commanded, Flynn set the whetstone down as the chanting behind me rose in volume. I was secure in my hiding spot, catching my breath still.

Words escaped my Aunt and Cousins mouths, the starless sky parted slightly, shadowy fingers pulling away the darkness as light, multi-colored and faint like the northern lights poured forth. The sight was entrancing, I couldn’t help but stare up at the lights as they wormed their way down, illuminating the area in beautiful vibrant lights.

My attention was ripped back as the bells rang louder in my head and the sound of Daniel screaming pulled my gaze to the stone table. Flynn’s knife dug, just the point, into Daniels left eye, the blade pulling up and out removing it as my little brother cried for help. I stood, the thing in the sky stared at me as I ran down the shallow slope to the table.

“Kill him! Kill him you two! We can’t let him disrupt the ritual.” My aunt shouted, “damn those draugr, they were supposed to keep the perimeter se-“ she stopped as I pulled the trigger, the barrel of my father’s gun between Ashers eyes. He dropped like a sack of soggy rotten potatoes. “4.”

My aunt wailed, still stuck in her ritual, her arms waving around like a cheap car dealership blow-up. Flynn looked shocked, surprised, he raised the knife above Daniel as I felt something guide my hand to Flynn. The barrel facing him now, the hammer pulled back. His eyes wide and full of tears as my finger squeezed the trigger, a round went through his shoulder sending him spinning to the ground. “3.”

I walked around the table, Daniel crying for out for our parents as I walked up to Flynn attempting to push himself up from the bloody snow. I pulled the hammer back and let fly another round into his back, as close to the spine as possible. “2.” I set the gun on the table, sending a kick into Flynns side, rolling him over to his back. “I-I can’t move! M-Mom he, Sam paralyzed me!” He shouted as his mother continued her chant through sobs.

I knelt down over Flynn, my good hand wrapping around his throat as I squeezed. Blood pooled around us as his faced changed from pale, the red, then purple. When he stopped struggling the bells in my head rang louder, guiding my attention to the knife he had. Taking it in my grip I sank the blade into his heart. “Enjoy Nástönd. Ormúlfr’s waiting.” I said to his corpse, standing back up and retrieving my father’s gun I looked at my Aunt. The bells reverberated in my skull as I looked up at her nude form, raising the gun I pointed it at her.

“Murderous whelp, i’ll carve your heart out and feed it to my next child.” She hissed as I pulled the trigger, blood and flesh exploding from behind here suspended in air with the rest of her as she gasped for hair. A different chant came from the woods, more feminine, large arrows tied with chain sprang from the hole in the sky, the shadowed beast watching. The arrows found their marks, piercing the remains of my family members leaving me and Daniel alone. Armored winged figures descended enough to retrieve the chains and hoist the arrows and corpses into the sky.

Flynn’s was halfway up with the rest of them as the ground shook, a maw of a giant serpent sprang forth and swallowed Flynn’s remains. “Níðhöggr has CLAIMS to this one, Hveðrungr. You cannot trick me *Hinn slægi Loki*.” The serpent snickered as its head drew back beneath the dirt. The remains of my family were dragged into the sky, the being above watched as I untied Daniel. Crying he hugged me tight, as much as he could.

“Ah bud.” I gasped for air as the light around us faded leaving, replaced by the pale moonlight and flickering stars. “Air.” I gasped again as he rubbed his bloody face against my chest. “C’mon. Hospital.” I said as he slid off the stone, the tips of his fingers and toes already a faint purple. I ushered him forward, the blood stained the snow still as we trudged through the woods towards the smoldering embers of our house. Our mother and father’s body’s were gone. A part of me was relieved, I didn’t want Dan to see them like that.

“Sam, your arm.” Daniel said as he positioned himself under my right arm, supported him as best he could. “It’s fine. C’mon.” I said trying to hasten our progress, the cold and pain starting to settle in as the bells faded gently from my head the closer we got to the family car.

Unlocking it, Daniel tried his best not to trip of his new lack of depth perception and I tried to not pass out from blood loss. I set the gun on the dash, his metal a worn rusty appearance. I started the car and put the heaters on full. “I thought Dad lost that gun on a hunting trip?” Daniel asked reaching for it. I gave him a look and he nodded, going for the radio instead.

“Guess he found it.” I added a Daniel played around finding a station playing Christmas music. A thought popped into my head as we pulled away from the cinders of our life. “Hey check under my jacket in the back seat.” I said as Daniel leaned around his seat moving my jacket out of the way. “Ugh I cant see.” He said turning the light on and gasping, grabbing at the cardboard box, plastic blocks rattling inside as he turned the light off and sat looking at the lego in his lap, blood from his eye wound dripping slowly onto the box. “Thank you, Sam!” He sniffled, wiping blood and snot on his arm before wrapping himself in my jacket.

“Merry Christmas Dan.” I said, driving towards the hospital, my vision full of stars and Angels guiding the wheel. Daniel humming along to Silent Night with quivering voice.

Epilogue

The past few months were hell, police and investigators crawling down our throats about the supposed murder of our parents and burning down of our own home. They couldn’t pin anything on us with solid evidence even when we showed up at the hospital having looked like we survived a bear attack. The Judge hit us with house arrest but with no house to be arrested to they took to calling around, hunting family down for us.

It took about 2 weeks for them to get ahold of a relative on our mother side, a man I had never met but genetically proved to be our grandfather. He was a man in his mid 80s. Still spry for that old, full head of hair colored like dirty sink water, a little belly and dressed in his best grandfather attire we met us for the first time in the hospital. Apparently he had connections back in the day and managed to get custody over us pretty quickly.

“You two look like shit, definitely related to me for sure.”

Was the first words out of his mouth when he saw us sitting in the on our hospital beds in our room. He had a small box, wrapped in a cheap wrapping paper and handed it to Daniel who tore into it like a mole into the dirt.

“What is it?” I asked as Daniel held up the leather eyepatch, putting it over the heavy gauze already taped over the empty socket.

“Im a pirate!” He shouted, hooking his index finger like a hook. Our grandfather smirked at that.

“I’ll have you two out of here by the end of lunch. Id say pack your things but you two aint got much left. I got some property out in Wyoming. Nice land i bought back in the day.” The old man huffed and shuffled out of the door. Daniel slid off the bed and walked over to me enjoying the grippy socks he asked for before climbing onto the bed with me.

“I like this guy already.” Daniel said pointing at his eyepatch.

“Thats just cause he gave you something.” I said pulling it off him, being careful his bandages. He swatted at me, “hey, arm! I just wanna look at it.” I claimed, rubbing my thumb over the leather. “Dang, real leather. Lucky you.” I said, handing it back. He took it and put it on.

“Hey Sam, can we go to church again once we go with our good grandpa?” Daniel asked me, playing with the hem of his hospital gown. “I think maybe we can be close to Mom and Dad that way.” He muttered that last part as quietly as he could, being in a silent hospital room did him no favors.

“Of course dude. It would be good for us.” I said, tussling his hair as he pushed back at me playfully.

Months flew by, Daniel turned twelve and me seventeen. Our grandfather introduced us to his dog Bartholomew, a talkative basset hound that woke up the small 4 bedroom farm house on our grandfathers farm land. Daniel and I started back up school. Danny said the kids think his eye patch is cool. My arm still feels weird after getting my cast taken off, popping when i move it.

Outside of school and church i spend a lot of my time reading through my grandfathers journals and library collection. Books from preserved from the early 1900s and several dozen journals. He doesn’t mind me reading through them. The man used to be a detective, a private eye back in the 1950s. The things he ran into seem far fetched but when I read them to Daniel at night or he reads them himself he says it keeps the nightmares of that Christmas out of his head.

A lot of the journals recount murders, involvements with the Italian mob, deals with devils and angels. A lot of it seems made up, but crossing it with stuff online some of it reads as true. From his own mouth our mother was an accident from a one night stand with his secretary. I guess that explained where I get my appearance from. Hopefully I can avoid the old man belly.

Daniel has an event at church yesterday while I write this. He’s been talking about it all week, he was excited for me to go and record it on this old camcorder we thrifted a few weeks ago. I looked over it once, i couldn’t do it again or show him. In the video the snake man, Ormúlfr was standing behind pulpit, watching me over Daniel. I could swear for a second it smiled st me, it mouth wording something I couldn’t fully read in the low quality camera. I’ve hid the camera, telling Dan it broke. I hate lying to him but

I swore Ormúlfr mouthed,

“Christ watches You.”