Christmas Horror in Hosenka

The ghost demon Crowlee hadn’t seen a lot of Christmas lately. In fact, it had been several dozen years since he’d been around enough to enjoy the festivities. As a being of omnipresence like he was, Crowlee often found himself whisked away to different realities for different times and different reasons. At one point he was pretty sure he had been in a movie and was played by Batman. Another time he could recall being a weirdly drawn cartoon who partnered with an equally creepy but not as malicious teenager. Most recently, at least before he found himself on a roleplay site, he had been taken to the stage, where he had been highly appreciated by fans but not critics.

“And don’t get me started on all the fanfictions that are written about me. I’ve been paired with everyone from Cleopatra to Mr. Clean, though I gotta admit, that bald had certainly has a way of doing things to me,” the ghost demon replied to the sky once more as he lay along the roof of a building. Crowlee found himself in Hosenka, a rather illustrious town that was bustling with holiday activity. Despite the cherry blossom theme that never seemed to go away, the townspeople had found a way to make the place look festive for any and all that made the trip. Crowlee rolled over to stare down at all the stands and such. “You know, I should be like… excited right? All these hapless idiots wandering around bright-eyed and oblivious to danger. It’s like sticking fish in a barrel and then giving me dynamite -- the perfect opportunity! But I dunno, I’m feeling… oddly considerate? Like is it really that fun to ruin Christmas for faceless, nameless NPCs that don’t even matter? Besides, I really killed it with my ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’ remake so I feel like that fills my quota for the year.”

Indeed, it seemed Crowlee was more interested in just people watching than causing any kind of mayhem. He stared solemnly down at the crowds for what felt like hours. And he was perfectly content with continuing to do so until someone touched him. Well, it was actually a hard prod on the backside, not unlike a child trying to get their parent’s attention. But since Crowlee didn’t have any children (at least, he hoped as much, his pullout game wasn’t that great) his head turned around entirely, despite his body continuing to face forward. There, hovering before him, was, in fact, a little girl.

“Hello… little girl…” Crowlee said, his brow furrowing in confusion. But this wasn’t just some innocent child -- there were several things wrong with her. For one, she was practically see-through, her form nothing more than a curtain against the backdrop of the town. Two, she was also hovering at least six to seven inches in the air above the rooftop. “Whoa, you’re some kind of ghost like me!” the Ghost with the Most said with a grin. But rather than answer him, the little girl reached out and poked him on the nose.

What happened next was too traumatizing and terrible to put into word. Crowlee was sent back into his memories, reliving all of the heinous, terrible and cruel things he had done through his entire existence. To even hint upon a single instance is to invite insanity into anyone who could or couldn’t be viewing the ghost demon’s story as reading material. But after a quick trip down memory lane, Crowlee jerked up into a sitting position. “Wow-ee!” he exclaimed as he continued his uprising, leaping to his feet. “Listen, I’m not into little children -- I may be a demon but I have my lines. So you can’t just force foreplay upon me outta nowhere! Sorry, I’m going to have to blow my rape whistle.” The ghost demon thrust his hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled out an oversized brass whistle that was easily half as large as the building he had been lying on. How he had managed to keep it in his pants was an entirely different question as he quickly set it up, pulled it to his mouth, inhaled and then blew. The loud screech tore through the air, freezing everyone in their spots as the force from the whistle sent the girl flying off into the night sky, screeching in agony.

As Crowlee dismissed the whistle, he heard more action down on the street. A cursory glance provided him a look at an older woman, perhaps mid age, riding upon a reindeer of the evilest looks. She set her gaze upon him and the animal rode towards him, sweeping up into the air. “Boy howdy folks, this sure looks like a sticky wicket,” Crowlee said, glancing in the direction of whoever might be reading. “Guess your ol’ pal Crowlee has got to actually contribute to the Christmas season then!” With a snap, the ghost demon put upon himself the Santa outfit that he had worn in his made up rendition of the Night Before Christmas. Waggling his eyebrows, he easily leapt over the charging reindeer and soared down to the street below, where people had started panicking and were running about.

One of the booth vendors hadn’t quite made it out from behind the wooden panel when Crowlee landed beside him. “Guess the present?! I love this game!” He gasped as he slammed his hands into his cheeks. He reached out and grabbed the closest gift, giving it a hard rattle and sniffing the top of it. “Hmmm weight is pretty decent and it has quite the unique flavor…” the ghost demon mused. The reindeer and woman had turned around in the air and were, once again, charging towards Crowlee at full speed but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “It must be Christmas themed so… I’m going to guess a shit snake!”

The vendor looked utterly perplexed and even a bit disgusted at such a hair-brained guess. Crowlee grinned as he ripped the top of the packaging off to reveal… well, it was, in fact, a snake that seemed to be made of feces. The thing hissed as the ghost demon reached in and grabbed it. “But I asked for a Playstation Five!” he complained as he looked into the snake’s eyes. Then, like an intolerant child who didn’t get the present he wanted at Christmas, he threw the snake directly at the woman and reindeer. It smacked wetly against the woman’s face and, infuriated by its rough treatment, it twisted and sunk its teeth into her forehead. She shrieked as she fell off the reindeer, rolling along the pavement and trying to wrestle the disgusting creature off of her.

The ghost demon bounded over to her and knelt down to watch her roll and writhe. “Oh boy, we’re gonna need a medic over here! Medic!” Crowlee called out to… well, no one in particular. And because everyone was so busy racing around in fear at the terrible event that was unfolding, no one came to his aid. “No one rolled medic?! This is racism at its finest! Just because we’re ghosts doesn’t mean we don’t have feelings!” Dramatically, Crowlee turned away, throwing his arm over his forehead. But as he was taking his moment to be melodramatic, he spotted another figure floating towards him. A tall, menacing cloak with bony hands seemed to glide across the ground with wicked intent, its unseen gaze pointed directly at the ghost demon. Crowlee leaned back to take in the full view of the monstrosity, whistling as he did so. “Well you are quite the hunka,” he commented before he glanced back at the now still ghost, the snake’s poison clearly having done its work. “Oh, was that your date? Sister? Both? I don’t judge, I’ve been to Alabama.”

The cloaked creature swung its hand towards Crowlee, trying to swipe at his head. The ghost demon ducked, his hat remaining in the air and spinning wildly from the air front brought on by the Ghost of Christmas Future’s swipe. As the titanic spirit looked down for Crowlee, it found that he was gone but the sudden honk of a horn called its attention backwards. There was Crowlee, riding on a scooter that was far too small for him. He crashed it into yet another game table, this one containing several blank sweaters and a ton of atrocious items to attach to it. “The perfect present!” Crowlee exclaimed, stars in his eyes. His arms became a blur as he grabbed for different decorations and pulled them onto the front of the sweater, easily crafting the ugliest and by far most offensive sweater that was sure to come from this event. As the Ghost of Christmas Future stalked up to him, the ghost demon spun around and held up the article of clothing for it. “I hope you like it! I spent a fortune on it!” It depicted the deadly spirit, dressed like a cheerleader, performing a truly illicit sexual act upon a smoking Crowlee.

The ghost growled and swiped at the ghost demon once more, tearing the sweater apart. “You monster!” Crowlee gasped, truly offended by the heinous act of ruining his gift. “Just like dad, ruining Christmas all over again. It’s not my fault mommy got into the vodka early!” The angry spirit brought its arm up, ready to swing at Crowlee once more but this time, the ghost demon grabbed a small glue tube from the table and a toy Christmas tree that was next to the sweaters. He stuffed it into the tube and then, pointing it at the spirit, squeezed. Red and green fire exploded out from the tube as the Christmas tree toy was launched out and into the Ghost of Christmas Future’s face, ripping through the cowl and leaving a large puncture mark through the fabric. Grinning, Crowlee blew on the Christmas-colored smoke as the spirit flopped onto the ground in front of him. “Now that’s holiday!”

“What are you?” A weary, curious voice rose up, calling Crowlee’s attention. The ghost demon cocked his head to look at the old timer, standing several yards away, a heavy frown upon his face. “I’ve watched you ever since I began my attack and you are no ordinary wizard.”

“Technically, not a wizard at all. More of an abstract point of interest. The real question is who are you, granddaddy? You look like you make all the girls with daddy problems wet.”

The duke snorted. “Humbug, you disgusting creature. Be gone so that I may continue my assault!” With a wave of his cane, the old man brought forth his three spirits once more, now putting Crowlee in the awkward position of being surrounded.

The ghost demon looked around at the newly respawned spirits and snorted. “That’s a cute trick. Do you want to see something cool too?” Before Scrooge could answer, Crowlee extended his hands. For a moment, nothing happened and the duke was about to cackle at the failure when suddenly he noticed something. His connection to the spirits was disappearing! And three differently aged spirits started to twist and wail, their forms wrenching to all sides as Crowlee’s manipulation set in. Purple and green ooze sprouted from their eyes and ears and poured down their bodies, overwhelming their forms. And then, once they were fully encased, Crowlee snapped and the shells broke apart, revealing three new gorgeous ghost women clad in cheerleader outfits. They cooed and giggled as they looked at themselves, looking like naturally born triplets.

“See, thing about ghosts is, I’m the best and possession ain’t no thing for me. But lemme leave you with a parting gift!” Suddenly Crowlee crossed the distance between himself and Scrooge, alarming the old man. Before he could retreat through, the ghost demon grabbed him, pulled out his iLac, turned on the camera and planted a big, wet smooth on the elder’s lips. Crowlee even made it sound disgusting, moaning and groaning as he rubbed his scruffy face against the older man’s. Once he was done, he pulled back with a grin. “You saucy minx, hiding out under the mistletoe just for me!” The ghost demon gestured up, where there was, in fact, a thing of mistletoe hanging magically in the air.

But the duke didn’t care about that. He was grabbing at his throat, his eyes bulging as something was trying to escape from inside of him. He gagged and coughed and choked before his lips parted, revealing a bulbous orb of light, cast in a hazy smoke. It floated in the air before Scrooge, who now looked as blank and empty as a discount store mannequin. “And you got me dinner? Well this has been the best Christmas date ever!” Crowlee batted his eyelids at the body before his tongue snapped out from his lips, wrapped around the orb and sucked it down into his mouth.

“You know, maybe getting involved wasn’t really that bad,” Crowlee said as he looked around. A few shrill screams from other peasants running away caught his attention and he tapped his finger against his chin. “Then again, who says the party has to stop? Girls, before we run off for our obvious fourway, what say we show the people of this subboard a good time?” The ghost demon grinned as his new cheerleaders lived up to their names and cheered enthusiastically. And then, the four shot into the air, now hellbent on dressing this Christmas festival in more red.