Someone's Mess
A Short Dark Christmas Story by Abram Dress
The lack of gratitude frustrated him.
Friedrich stepped through piles of shredded wrapping and torn ribbon, carelessly tossed on the floor a couple feet from the trash bin. He slipped on a wet cardboard box haphazardly left next to the tree, devoid now of its treasured contents.
Not just lack of gratitude. Disrespect.
That his children would leave such a mess for someone else to tend.
Friedrich scowled.
Someone? Him. Always him.
Sure, it was Christmas. Perhaps a little grace that they were so excited they didn’t think to clean up after themselves? As though Christmas differed from any other time. He was raising disrespectful ingrates who always left a mess–
Ouch! A lego?
He balanced on one foot while checking the fresh pain. A femur shard. Worse, there was still a solid mouthful of marrow in it. He had spent so much effort to force the screaming gift into a stocking, and the little ingrates wasted it.
He picked at his fangs with the shard as he assessed the chaos. He purged a frustrated sigh. Someone would need to clean the puddles of blood surrounding the Christmas tree.
Someone? Him. Always him.
Anselm and Luisa curled together in their blood-soaked pajamas, smiles on their gory lips, pleasant dreams of the hunt playing behind tranquil eyelids.
Friedrich knelt in the pool of blood and gently kissed each child on the forehead. He uncurled Luisa’s fingers from a gnawed rib bone so she wouldn’t poke herself in her sleep. Friedrich smiled.
Sure, ungrateful and disrespectful little ghouls, with their adorable razor sharp teeth and their insatiable need for fresh human flesh, but someone loved them to death.
Someone? Him. Always him.
–END