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Wednesday, 24 December 2014

The Legend of Christmas short story 2014

The Legend of Christmas
Alex Jahans

When people speak of the legends of the multiverse they speak of the trinity of chaos: Bam-Kursh the Accursed, the Farsh-nuke the Mad and Gfaxxy Quluwmcy the Sane. And maybe in huddled whispers of the great mother of chaos and father of logic but no more. It is believed and widely accepted that the Elder Gods were born long before the universes and that none have been born since. Haha! They are so so wrong! Let me tell you of the God humanity created for itself, the one they call Christmas.

The Doctor stands before the console, hair raked away from his face, proud, noble, terrified. “This is one of those moments isn't it? The Darkest Day. The Blackest Night. The Moment When All Hope Is Lost.”

The Nurse laughs “Fred you're only working the night shift on Christmass Eve, don't be so melodramatic.

Doctor Fred Constantine turns away from reception and sighs “Yes I know but Christmass is special isn't it? Any other day of the year? Fine, I'll be hungover and feel like death but Christmass is the day when magic can still be felt in the early morning air and the weight of the entire world waiting in baited breath to open their presents and cards hangs over it.”

The Nurse rolls her eyes “I'm sorry Doctor, you drew the short straw, so what if you celebrtate christmass a day late.”

The Doctor looks imploringly at her “Do you have any idea how many different cultures celebrate something at christmass, it's a near universal idea that during the blackest moments in life we shirk off responsibility so we can turn to each other and say 'Well done, we are halfway out of the dark'”

The Nurse laughs and walks away.

Weeks pass and Doctor Fred Constantine gets halfway through his Christmas Eve shift relatively uneventfully. It's 4am and he goes outside for a smoke.

Further on Nurse Ann Chapel and Doctor India Fulcrum are on their fag breaks too.

Ann says between puffs “You know what I don't get is why Christmas is only one day. Half a year of build up for one day of gorging and I'm going to miss it”

India coughs from laughing “No, I couldn't deal with Christmas lasting more than one year, it's just an excuse to buy a load of crap. That's why I'm working this shift. Fuck Christmas.”

Fred fumbles with his cigarettes and lighter, trying to light it three times before at last it gave light. He took a long drag and coughed. He spots a shooting star and mutters “Here Santa, why don't I get to have Christmas, yeah? I've worked all my life to give back to people and here I am warming my lungs on fucking nicotine in the cold of Christmas morning.”

Nothing happens.

Fred laughs “Fuck Christmas, I prefer a vindaloo to Christmas dinner anyway”

Fred finishes his cigarette in silence, stamps it out on the ground and heads back inside but he slips on a back of ice and as he falls a shooting star hits him.

Fred wakes up in a white void before a fat fellow dressed in red “I believe you understand how this works, you've seen this enough times.”

Fred and the Ghost of Christmas Past take a whistle stop through history watching every festival held at the darkest part of winter.

Fred nods, understanding “Every culture has had some variation of Christmas, some great hero to celebrate who will lead them out of darkness.”

The Ghost of Christmas past pats Fred on the back “Aye, you'll do well lad. You'll know the next one by her green eyes. Now about your business.”

Fred wakes up outside the hospital and gingerly runs inside.

Doctor India is checking the vital signs of a patient when she comments to Nurse Ann. “You know every year at Christmas idiot parents get brought in because they snuck down to do the job of Father Christmas.”

Fred turns at the mention of Christmas and sees India's eyes glow green.

Doctor India adds “If only Santa Claus did exist, there'd be a lot less people needing to be tret on Christmas Eve.”

A tall fat man with a long white beard dressed all in red taps Fred on the shoulder.

Fred stares up at the man in red who looked rather like himself “Let me guess, Ghost of Christmas Future?”

The older Fred dressed as Santa Claus nodded and led Fred back outside.

Fred stared down at where his body lay after he'd slipped on the ice, blood pooling behind Fred's head. “Of course. If I'm the Ghost of Christmas Future then I need to be shown my grave.”

All those festivals celebrating all those heroes. You are beings of logic and in the multiverse logic is always made real. You cried out for a hero so here I am. said the Ghost of Christmas Future.

Fred nodded “But how do I become you?”

Spoilers! Ho! Ho! Ho!

And the Ghost of Christmass Future vanished.

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