St.
Nicholas Day
By
Anne
Marie Andrus
A
wiry man crossed the avenue and limped under City Park’s arched gate to admire
fresh holly wreaths. Gravel crunched under his pointy black boots. “This could
be fun.” He raked one hand through the platinum streak at his temple and
plucked a glittery ornament from the winding path. “Hard to believe so many
rotten children don’t believe I exist.” Behind him, impending sunset glowed
through tangled boughs and draped Spanish moss. “In exactly one week, their
nightmares will come true.” He crushed the cardboard Papa Noël in his fist. “Yessss…positively
jolly fun.”
“Halt,
beast!” Cloaked in a flowing sapphire habit, the figure emerged from an ancient
grove. She strode through the cathedral of sweeping oaks and blocked his progress.
“Not in my city, sir.”
“And
who’s going to stop me? You?” The man snickered and offered his bony hand in
friendship. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.”
“I’m
Charmaine Roussel.” She flicked her gaze to his mock greeting and then locked
her eyes with his. “I’m aware of what you are and you know bloody well I’m not
alone.”
“Do
I?” The man turned and doubled over with laughter. “So, your back-up appears to
be a nurse who has clearly never held a pistol before and a crone waving her
crooked stick. With all due respect, Mademoiselle Charmaine…” He struggled
to compose himself. “You don’t stand a chance.”
“Shoot
it.” Charmaine glanced at the trembling nurse. He might look like a normal man,
but it’s a disguise. “Shoot now!”
The
first bullet flew wide but the next two rounds blasted through the man’s ribs.
He dropped to one knee as the swamp around them swallowed the sharp noise and
spat back pulsating silence.
“Leave
now and I’ll spare your life.” Charmaine gritted her teeth. “You’ve been banned
from this city for a century.”
“Oh,
the mighty New Orleans…how she has fallen.” The man shrugged a heavy cloak off
his hunched shoulders. His fingers plunged into the wound, ripped out the
bullet and tossed it into the underbrush. “Seven years of mourning and seven
years of weakness after an incompetent fool killed your Duke. Once a coward, always
a—”
The
elderly woman wailed, stood straight and wielded her cane like a sword,
blasting a ball of blue fire that ripped the man from the ground. He slammed back
down in a smoldering fractured heap.
Charmaine
crossed her arms with precision. “You were saying?”
The
groan that escaped his twitching lips descended into a growl as black hair
twisted into horns. For a few seconds, the misshapen head of an animal loomed
in blue-grey smoke. “Savior of the soldiers, defender of the innocent,
care-giver to the hopeless…” A human face fought back while the figure
staggered. His eyes glowed a crimson hue only found in the deepest embers of
the devil’s fireplace. “I think your Duke was a fraud.”
“Demon!”
The nurse tossed her gun aside and grabbed the old woman’s cane, waving it at the
beast’s face as if stoking the flames in his skull. “Show yourself!”
Invisible
ripples of power exploded through the emerald canopy while the sky beyond plummeted
into deep purple. At the moment of sunset, a vampire with tasseled gloves
stepped from behind a massive tree trunk and fired her crossbow. A solid gold
bolt lodged in the man’s neck. His body twisted and swelled until the fabric of
his clothes ripped free revealing the coarse fur of a demented goat. He pawed
one cloven hoof and bared warped fangs before lunging at his attackers.
Charmaine
took two steps, reached under her habit and drove a swirled blade into the
beast’s heart with her final stride. Time flickered and the ground thundered as
the creature collapsed to the muddy pebbles, swirling his split viper’s tongue
around her ankles.
Four
women—a nun, a nurse, a witch and a vampire—stood over the writhing body. In
unison, they grabbed the blade’s carved hilt and twisted until the demon disintegrated.
“I’ll
take back the Duke’s knife.” Charmaine plucked her weapon from the ash. “Bonne
nuit, Monsieur Krampus.”
***
Happy Friday everyone!
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