[Just to forewarn you, this is easily the darkest thing I've ever written. It's also completely a true story]
Anti-Christmas: The Prelude of Broken Dreams
On a cold December eve, two comrades decided that they would depart from the warmth and comfort of there apartment. Instead of enjoying hot chocolate
with marshmallows, listening to Christmas music, or thoughtfully searching for the perfect gift for a loved one, they decided to do something devious. They decided that every child who made a snowman in hopes of it coming to life and playing with them needed a reality check. And so, they put on their jackets,
and in the middle of the evening, departed from the warmth of home.
One of these men had only a few nights before noticed some cheerful students of the nearby university happily working together to build a tall and majestic fort. This is where the night of destruction began. As they drove towards the group of buildings that housed the fort, butterflies floated in their stomachs. Not the butterflies’ one might receive when with an attractive young lady, but the butterflies of the first kill. We’ll furthermore refer to them as “murderflies”. The murderflies swirled around in their stomachs, making them even more anxious. As they turned down the appropriate street, they saw the target. They calmly parked the car. Looking around for witnesses, they approached the fort. The walk was longer then anticipated, and the murderflies began to swirl into some kind of feeding frenzy. The small remains of a snowman stood near the path that led to the fort, and one of them decided it was worth the side track to destroy what remained. He quickly approached the pile and kicked it with all his might. Snow flew through the air, and he triumphantly returned to his comrade, the both of them laughing gleefully.
As they turned a corner, they saw it. As they moved toward the fort, they began to fully appreciate what they were doing. They were destroying something in minutes what had taken hours to create. The power was intoxicating. When they drew closer, the first of them charged towards it, kicking a whole in side. The other followed close behind. As they terrorized the establishment, it dawned on them that they were in open sight of both those in the closest building and those passing on the near by road. As a car speedily approached, they both ducked behind what remained of the Eastern side of the wall. After some deliberation they decided it was best to wrap up this job and move on. So they quickly tore down what remained of the walls, kicking and hitting, trying to contain their laughter. After satisfying their early snowlust, they moved away, searching for more snow built designs. Any and all found worthy were destroyed. Yet, this was only the beginning to an evening of broken dreams.
The friends returned to the car, pleased with the early success of their debauchery. They started the car, and drove away from the ruins, already thinking of the next potential target. As they drove down the busy street, eyes peering down ever road looking for likely snowman breeding grounds, an elementary school approached to the left. The field behind the school was like a congregation of snow creatures. Snowmen, Snow-caterpillars, and other snow creatures were spread throughout the entire complex. Grinning slyly, they quietly turned into the schools parking lot.
At the thought of destroying so many dreams, one of them hesitated. This was strike would be below the belt. This was attacking dreams where dreams shouldn’t exist; a school. After a brief convincing, they moved out of the vehicle. The first caterpillar lay there, frozen in the night. A brief jog followed by a leap brought the feet of the first on top of its head, crunching the snow down violently. The other man approached with increasing speed, and jumping, landed on a larger portion. Unfortunately, he was knocked back. This would not be as easy as they’d hoped. Some of these snow creatures had improved defenses. This minor detour didn’t change the attitudes of our hunters. They moved on, finding the weak points in each creature, quickly dismantling each one. The cheerful congregation of the imagination soon turned into a small child’s nightmare. Snowmen and their families lay broken and battered across the field. Our heroes returned to the vehicle, and just as quietly as they came, they disappeared.
To answer your question, they did not return home and wipe the snowy blood from their jackets. Instead, they headed to the residential area of the town. You must understand, a strange kind of desire had crept into their hearts. They had to destroy each and every snowman they saw, until they could no longer bear to be outside. So they carried on, driven by this unquenchable thirst.
After a few turns with no results, they finally found a victim. One of them waiting in the driver’s seat, for the sake of caution; who knows what might happen if they were caught with snow all over them, surrounded by the half beaten corpses of snowmen. As the chosen destroyer approached what remained of the half melted snowman, he though about exactly which was he should end its pitiful existence. He decided he would end it quickly, execution style. When he felt he was close enough, he ran up and kicked the back of it, sending snow flying onto the shoveled pathway. He quickly returned to the car, laughingly like a child on Christmas morning. They both laughed for a while as they searched for the next house.
When they found it, they had second thoughts. You see, this front yard was decorated with not only a snowman, but a snow swan and a snow snail. How could anyone destroy such beautiful works? One thought ran through the killers head: No mercy. He had the driver drop him off, and walked calmly past the swan and the snowman. He was just a friendly neighbor on a late night stroll. His demeanor changed as he passed the snail. Turning on his left foot, he round-house kicked the snail with his right, cleaning decapitating it. Then, he silently dispatched the snowman and the swan. Laughter floated out from the car, the execution bringing glee to the driver.
Many more houses followed, and as time progressed more and more snowmen fell and died. At least eighteen snowmen died that night. I would get into the detail of every kill, but that would take too long. So I will highlight. One snowman fell from a double legged kick to the back. Another fell to what will be referred to as a “Gears of War” style curb stomping. The most formidable enemy was a snow fort with an arched entrance. The arch fell, but the walls refused to crumble. A sphinx, proudly guarding the front door of one house, was struck directly in the head by the very shovel that made it. The shovel was then stabbed into the side of it as a reminder to all near by snow creatures to live in fear.
Soon, the friends began to tire of slaying snowmen. They began to crave something more…risky. As they headed up to a richer area of the community, they spotted two things. At one home, two snowmen sat quietly on top of a hilled drive way. Across the street from this abode, a large house had entirely too many lights. In front of their gated home, a light up baby Jesus sat with mother Mary and Joseph. Together they realized two things. One, those snowmen needed to die for thinking that a hilled driveway would protect them from intruders. The other was this: baby Jesus needed to be kidnapped. The team quickly split up, one heading for the snowmen, the other for baby Jesus. Like a thief in the night, he deftly unplugged baby Jesus and quickly threw him into the front seat of the car. The other was unable to control his laughter and complete his mission, so the thief went to help him. As they crawled their way up the slope, they noticed an axe and a baseball bat near the snowmen. Compiling all their hate for the snowman race, they brutally chopped and beat the snowmen, leaving nothing but chunks of snow behind. They returned to the car, cleaning the remains from their coats. Suddenly one of them decided it was unfair to baby Jesus to be alone. So they quickly grabbed both Mary and Joseph, throwing them into the back of the car.
As they returned home, they recited the night’s events out loud, laughing, letting the snowlust fade. They returned to the apartment, happily sharing their story and showing the spoils. As they prepared to sleep, they looked forward to dreaming of the look on the faces of those who had spent time on those they had destroyed. Unfortunately for the creators, this was not the end of what would become known as the Christmas of Broken Dreams.
