Slay Bells

Joshua Calkins-Treworgy

Description

T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house, dark creatures came lurking, to tear, rend and gouge!'Tis the season once again, and the jolly fat man, Saint Nicholas himself, must figure out how he will contend with the dark denizens of Amelia City and deliver presents for the good little boys and girls. These aren't spooks and critters left over from Halloween; these are beasts whose sole intent is to deliver slaughter. Is there enough holiday magic up Santa's sleeve to stand victorious over them all?A new entry in the worldwide, bestselling horror series Roads Through Amelia.

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Short story
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Untreed Reads
• Date de parution: 01 janvier 0001
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781611874853
• Langue: English

Extrait

Roads Through Amelia: Slay Bells
By Joshua Calkins-Treworgy

Copyright 2012 by Joshua Calkins-Treworgy
Cover Copyright 2012 by Dara England and Untreed Reads Publishing
The author is hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright. Either the publisher (Untreed Reads) or author may enforce copyrights to the fullest extent.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold, reproduced or transmitted by any means in any form or given away to other people without specific permission from the author and/or publisher. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to the living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Also by Joshua Calkins-Treworgy and Untreed Reads Publishing
Roads Through Amelia: The Beast and the Forgotten Tribesman
Roads Through Amelia: Comedy and Tragedy
Roads Through Amelia: Faith in Amelia
Roads Through Amelia: Mr. Big Ugly

http://www.untreedreads.com
Slay Bells
An Amelia City Christmas Tale
By Joshua T. Calkins-Treworgy
Around another blind corner he ran, staggering as he crashed into the side of a dumpster, sword scraping against the concrete. Blood ran down in thin streams from the small tooth punctures in his upper bicep, the frosty winter air seeming to run right through the tear in his coat and armor, plunging down into his body. He had expected trouble-this was Amelia City, after all.
But the man in the red coat and pants with the white trim had not expected to have to cut down crawling man-spiders, only to have something resembling a giant, fanged toad latch onto his shoulder and bite down into his arm. Its teeth had parted the fine chain sleeve like the links were carved of cheese instead of forged steel. The reek of the thing assaulted him still as he ran, its shiny slime dripping down his coat, stinking of seaweed left to rot in the summer sun.
He thought back, still seeking to escape the most recent pursuing nightmare, trying to remember when he’d decided on attempting this suicide mission. Tompkins, he thought. If he hadn’t told me this area would become impenetrable to me next year, I’d have passed over it like so many times before .
Clearing the alley, running down the sidewalk of a curiously empty street, the being known as Santa Claus found himself praying the reindeer were close by. Even as he heard the clacking claws of his pursuer, the jolly fat man remembered that night when he’d decided to come back to Amelia clearly. Tompkins saying-
*
“You can’t put it off forever, boss,” said Tompkins, the senior-most foreman of the elves’ workshops. “Ten years straight you’ve just dropped the toys from the sleigh, and kids ain’t gettin’ their presents. You have to go back this year and try to actually deliver some gifts.”
But the ever-jolly Santa Claus sat in his rocking chair, surveying the map before him with grim consternation. Standing on an artist’s easel, the map was an aerial portrayal of Amelia City, a Midwestern metropolis which had, since its inception, given the happiest of faery creatures a distinct case of the willies.
In 1894, Santa had experienced his very first run-in with the less pleasant citizenry of Amelia, a creature that looked like a cross between a giant hawk and a praying mantis. The beast had been waiting for him on a rooftop after he’d delivered a new doll for one little Miss Julie Carver, a darling child who would be overjoyed to discover a new dolly under the tree.
When he’d tossed the bag up onto the roof, Claus hadn’t heard the usual nickering and braying of the reindeer. Taking this for a sign of trouble, he’d been cautious climbing up out of the magically widened chimney. That caution had saved his unaging life. He poked his head up over the lip of the chimney and immediately ducked when a razor-sharp forelimb swung out at him.
His subsequent return down the chimney and crash through the Carvers’ front door brought the reindeer from a neighboring roof. They hadn’t stuck around for that thing to get at them, though now there were only seven reindeer; Comet had been slaughtered, his body parts tossed all over the Carvers’ lawn.
Santa had boarded the sleigh to get the hell out of there, but the winged beastie had given chase. Only by using the bow and arrow set little Tony Schuster was supposed to get did Santa save himself and his reindeer, nailing the creature through the forehead.
He hadn’t gone back for nearly twenty years. When he did, he went entirely unmolested. For seven years Santa was able to deliver toys personally to the homes of Amelia City, but then there was another incident in the eighth year.
This pattern repeated itself, but during the years wherein he would not touch down, Claus had devised a system of strategically dropping presents down to front yards and porches while staying on the move, avoiding the shadowy nightmares calling Amelia City home.
“Tompkins, I told you before, they don’t all need presents from me,” Santa said. This was true; so long as a good-sized group of children believed, he was okay. Otherwise, getting anywhere near Amelia County as a whole would sap him of all of his magic, and with the modern state of belief, he was already on short rations.
“That’s where you’re wrong, boss,” said the elf, puffing on a gingerbread-scented cigar. They were in Santa’s route-planning room, a vast wooden chamber attached to the main workshop. Parchment maps of thousands of cities lined the walls of the tall, pillar-like room. A roaring fire in the brick fireplace kept the room persistently cozy, as Claus liked it.