The dark visitor

That Christmas, it seemed as if something or someone wanted to stop it. The snow began to fall quickly, and that particular cold froze my bones. I always saw this time of year as being between light and shadow.

My grandmother used to tell me stories about the first snowfall, when creatures of the night would return and become the shadows of those homes, taking on a life of their own. One night, she stopped telling me what already lived in my soul.

Mom always insisted that we should decorate, bake a turkey, and prepare the best punch, but since that Christmas, I didn't want to sit at the table to celebrate.

I will never forget those hooves and those long, sharp nails that took my little brother Reus away. It was difficult to understand what had happened, but that strange thing had taken a part of me, that raw, visceral, and savage beast that was responsible for reminding us that humanity lives between light and shadow.

My father died the following Christmas, in the same circumstances. After my brother disappeared, my mother fell into a state of depression, and every year she tried to forget what had happened with excessive decorations at home.

However, I could never forget. Every little light and every Christmas carol reminded me of what had happened, that trail of scarlet red in the snow made my heart race and undoubtedly made me hate Christmas.

But my mother insisted, so I went out to get a fir tree, lights, and a huge Frosty for the roof. That Christmas seemed different, but in reality, it was a story that never ended.

That afternoon, the blizzard was strong, so I quickly went to the forest to get some firewood for the fireplace. When I got home, the smell of roasted turkey filled the air, and the scent of cinnamon was pleasant.

But between these two aromas, there was a familiar stench. When I got to the living room, I dropped the wood and saw that strange creature sitting on the sofa, its hooves digging into the carpet and its claws looking sharp on its fingers.

I tried to run for my axe, but this hellish beast quickly got up, grabbed me by the neck, and when I looked at it, I knew it was my mother, who said to me, “This Christmas, it's your turn.”

Her eyes looked empty, soulless. I couldn't believe that all this time, the beast that had taken my loved ones away had been so close, but my light had fallen asleep and I was no longer carrying my responsibilities.

However, I could never forget. Every little light and every Christmas carol reminded me of what had happened, that trail of scarlet red in the snow made my heart race and undoubtedly made me hate Christmas.

But my mother insisted, so I went out to get a fir tree, lights, and a huge Frosty for the roof. That Christmas seemed different, but in reality, it was a story that never ended.

That afternoon, the blizzard was strong, so I quickly went to the forest to get some firewood for the fireplace. When I got home, the smell of roasted turkey filled the air, and the scent of cinnamon was pleasant.

But between these two aromas, there was a familiar stench. When I got to the living room, I dropped the wood and saw that strange creature sitting on the sofa, its hooves digging into the carpet and its claws looking sharp on its fingers.

I tried to run for my axe, but this hellish beast quickly got up, grabbed me by the neck, and when I looked at it, I knew it was my mother, who said to me, “This Christmas, it's your turn.”

Her eyes looked empty, soulless. I couldn't believe that all this time, the beast that had taken my loved ones away had been so close, but my light had fallen asleep and I was no longer carrying my responsibilities.

However, I could never forget. Every little light and every Christmas carol reminded me of what had happened, that trail of scarlet red in the snow made my heart race and undoubtedly made me hate Christmas.

But my mother insisted, so I went out to get a fir tree, lights, and a huge Frosty for the roof. That Christmas seemed different, but in reality, it was a story that never ended.

That afternoon, the blizzard was strong, so I quickly went to the forest to get some firewood for the fireplace. When I got home, the smell of roasted turkey filled the air, and the scent of cinnamon was pleasant.

But between these two aromas, there was a familiar stench. When I got to the living room, I dropped the wood and saw that strange creature sitting on the sofa, its hooves digging into the carpet and its claws looking sharp on its fingers.

I tried to run for my axe, but this hellish beast quickly got up, grabbed me by the neck, and when I looked at it, I knew it was my mother, who said to me, “This Christmas, it's your turn.”

Her eyes looked empty, soulless. I couldn't believe that all this time, the beast that had taken my loved ones away had been so close, but my light had fallen asleep and I was no longer carrying my responsibilities.

So when the beast saw my remorseless soul, it weakened, and I ripped out its heart with my bare hands and stored it in that little wooden box next to my brother's and my father's. I left it under the little tree and sat in front of the fireplace to enjoy that bloody Christmas.

There would be no punishment for me now. I had long since abandoned my path. During those long winter nights, when snow covered the roads and everyone slept in silence, I waited stealthily for Krampus every Christmas, but he never came to my home to awaken my conscience.

If you look closely through the window, you will see my hooves and my long, pointed nails, and you will also hear the bells announcing that it is Christmas, so be careful and go to sleep, because the dark helper is already rattling his chains out there... because not all Christmas stories are bright, and not all children behave well while waiting for the old bearded man in the red sack.