“Goodnight, Timmy,” his dad said as he closed the bedroom door. “And go to sleep!”
Timmy had been trying to sleep but his stomach was knotted with excitement and slumber evaded him. He lay in bed wide awake, thinking of his presents under the tree.
After about ten minutes, he gave up the pretence, climbed out of bed and made his way downstairs as quietly as he could. He stepped over the creaky steps in the old house’s staircase even though his parent’s bedroom was far down the corridor and they were unlikely to hear anything through the thick walls and solid doors of their Victorian home.
The Christmas tree lights were on, bathing the living room in multicoloured pinpoints of light. Four oversized stockings, one for each of the family, bulged over the fireplace which was garlanded with fairy lights and a pile of colourful presents lay beneath the tree. Cheesy, their pet cat, rubbed between his legs and purred, grateful for the night time company. Timmy pulled his dressing gown belt tight and knelt down in front of the cornucopia.
He picked up a large box that bore his name on a green, Christmas tree-shaped gift tag and gave it a shake. It was the right size and weight for the new games console he had been hoping for.
Timmy smiled. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the resinous scent of the tree and the tension left his body: everything was as it should be. He decided to go back to bed and be ready to take full advantage of Christmas day.
Suddenly, a bright flash of red light filled the room and two figures came rolling out of the fireplace: they just seemed to appear from nowhere in the middle of the wide, stone hearth. One was a man in a long trench coat who looked like a reject from The Matrix. The second figure shocked him even more. It was a short, green-skinned creature with angular features, a long, pointed nose and claws on elongated fingers at the end of its gangly arms, inexplicably dressed in a gaudy red waistcoat and green knickerbockers.
They both stopped fighting for a moment and stared at Timmy who could only stare back at them.
“Is…is that an elf?” Timmy stammered.
“That is a thieving goblin LARPing as an elf,” the man said as he grappled with the creature. “And it’s taken something that doesn’t belong to it.”
The man stood, holding the struggling goblin by the throat at arm’s length. The creature stretched its neck, turned its head and bit him on the wrist.
“Ow!” he cried and let go of the goblin. It dropped to the floor, scrambled over the pile of presents and climbed up the Christmas tree which swayed wildly, threatening to topple over.
“Fek orf, it’s mine and I wants it,” it snarled from the top of the tree.
The man sighed. He picked up the glass of port that Timmy’s parents had left on the mantelpiece for Santa and downed it in one gulp. Then he took the carrot next to it and bit it, chewing while he pondered the situation.
“That’s for Rudolph…” Timmy said. It was all he could think of.
“Thanks, I’ll let him know,” the man said. Timmy watched wide-eyed as he reached for a pistol from an underarm holster. Timmy saw an array of other weapons and ammo strapped on a bandolier under his coat.
The man looked at Timmy out of the corner of his eye and left the pistol where it was. He quickly scanned the room and his gaze stopped on a ridiculously oversized candy cane decoration leaning against the pilaster of the fireplace. A five-foot long, striped hook of plastic.
The man grabbed it and wielded it like a sword while the goblin evaded the strikes, causing the tree to sway again. The goblin pulled something out of its waistcoat pocket which looked to Timmy like a small orb about the size of a golf ball, glowing with a faint red light.
“You’re not getting away this time,” the man said as he lunged, swinging the candy cane again and knocking the orb out of the creature’s hand with it. It hissed as the ball flew out of its grasp and bounced across the room to land on the sofa where Timmy had pushed himself into the back, clutching a cushion tightly across his chest.
“Get it, kid!” the man said as he ran towards him. The goblin was charging at him from the other side of the room too. Instinctively, Timmy grabbed the orb and held it out in front of him. He wished he was back in bed as both figures rushed towards him, threatening to crush him in the collision.
There was a flash of crimson and Timmy found himself sitting on top of his bed, pondering the red orb in his outstretched hand. At first, he wondered if he was dreaming. Then he heard the sounds of the scuffle from downstairs and he knew that he wasn’t.
He put the orb in his dressing gown pocket and made his way back downstairs. He peeked through the crack in the living room door where he saw the man wrapping the strand of Christmas tree lights that had decorated the fireplace tightly around the goblin, who continued to struggle and hiss expletives. The Christmas tree lay on the ground behind them.
The man pulled out a knife and flipped it open. Timmy stared at it, afraid of what he was going to do with it.
“You like that?” the man asked when he saw him gawking at the blade. “It’s a Douk-Douk sorcier, custom edition. Nice isn’t it? It’s supposed to bring luck.”
Timmy was relieved when he used it to cut the excess wire off the strand of lights.
“Hi, I’m Mal,” the man continued, getting to his feet once he had the goblin trussed up like a turkey. “What’s your name?”
“Timothy,” he replied.
“Well Tim, I’m sure you realise that’s no ordinary Christmas bauble you’ve got there. Can I have it back please?”
Timmy reached for his pocket. “It’s probably better if I get it,” the man said, reaching forward and grabbing it deftly before Timmy could touch it.
“Let’s get this back to its rightful owner,” he said. “Oh, and sorry about the mess. Try blaming it on the cat.” He lifted the goblin over his shoulder, held out the orb and in a flash of light, they were gone.
Timmy surveyed the chaos in the living room. He briefly thought about going straight to bed and blaming it all on the cat as the man had suggested but he knew that wouldn’t be fair to Cheesy. No one would believe him, anyway.
With a struggle, he managed to right the Christmas tree then he hastily rearranged the presents underneath as best he could before putting everything else back in place. A few glass baubles had been smashed and pine needles carpeted the floor but he didn’t dare use the vacuum cleaner, so he spent what seemed like forever on his hands and knees sweeping up the mess with a dustpan and brush.
He took one last look at the room and, exhausted from the excitement and the cleaning, he finally went to bed.
Timmy was awoken by a knock on his door. “It’s not like you to sleep in on Christmas Day,” his father said from the doorway. “Your sister is desperate to open her presents. Are you coming?”
Timmy sleepily made his way downstairs. He remembered something strange happening last night but the memory was fading and he wondered if he was confusing it with a dream.
The living room was filled with the hazy glare of sunlight reflecting off freshly fallen snow shining through the bay window and the floor was already strewn with shredded wrapping paper as his younger sister sat surrounded by boxes of toys.
“Do you know what happened to the lights on the fireplace?” His father asked as Timmy lifted the box containing the longed-for gaming console.
“Perhaps the cat took them,” Timmy said absent-mindedly. He was gazing at the knife that had been hidden under the present. It bore a gift tag reading, “Thanks for your help. From M & R”.
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Nice :D Happy Christmas!
ANOTHER great story!