Yule Tide Cheer
Fragile.
The blood dripped slowly down his arm as the distant sounds of carolers mixed with the wind swept snow. The red droplets stained the pearl, white of the snow, freezing into right red specks on the surface before it was covered with a new layer of snow. Everything seemed to move slower with the onset of winter, the holiday drawing near.
That was not to say that the rush of shoppers, the hustle and bustle of the Christmas cheer was not evident upon every street corner. The overwhelming promise of ‘good health and good cheer’ that came from each mouth that passed, gleeful shouting of ‘Happy Holidays’, ‘God Bless’, ‘Happy Christmas’! It was a never ending sea of happiness that could do little more than suffocate the unsuspecting, unwitting.
But for Percy such moments seemed to crawl. Winter had seemed unending in his youth, and every coming of the Season reminding him of the glorious summers in Southern Italy. It made him home sick for a land that he had barely spent twenty years in passing.
“God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day; to save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray.” A group of street carolers sang as they marched in a slow, monotonous pace along the street. “To save us all from Satan's power, when we were gone astray, o tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, o tidings of comfort and joy…”
Percy pushed off the wall a flick of his arm sending a spray of blood across the snow. The cold didn’t pierce his skin as he walked, trying not to gaze at the happy shops that lined the streets of Manchester.
Alassandro had wanted to see England, that was the only reason they had come…but then Alex had buggered off. Wanted to see the world for himself, and who was Percy to deny him that chance? Bloody, fuckin’ no one.
“Happy Christmas, sir!” A sweet voiced girl called to him, making him slow in his steps as the voices of the carolers faded around the corner. The heavy snow clung to his hair and lashes as he canted his head to the side, looking at the rag clad girl. “For you, sir! I jus’ found it, I did. Right there on the corner. Some bloke dropped it, and I thought you could use it more than me.” She held out a wallet, notes sticking out. A tenner, at the very least.
“What makes you think I need it?” He asked stubbornly, reaching out for the wallet to look at the ID that was stuffed in the clear socket. “Dressed bett’a than a fuckin’ street rat.” He mildly pointed out, before hesitating and motioning for her to take it back.
“S’alright, Sir. I got my own monies. Been pickin’ pockets all nigh’, and I was lookin’ at’cha. You been sulkin’ in that there corner since it stated’ta snow. No body even looked at ya twice, cept me. So I been figurin’ ye need some right holiday cheer.” She beamed at him, before turning and starting away. “Happy Christmas, Sir!” She called back before dashing off.
“Oi! Wait!” Percy started after her, jostling his way through the crowded streets, bouncing off of one shopper and then another. A myriad of protest were left in his wake, angry voices disrupting the peaceful cheer that surrounded the square.
It was only after half a block that Percy accepted defeat, slowly his pace as he stared about the area in wide searching eyes.
“Happy Christmas, sir.” A voice called, Percy’s head turning to inspect the street bound man, dressed as if he’d not seen a new set of clothing in ten years. “A pence for the hungry, sir? For the holiday cheer.”
“What do I look like, fuckin’ Bank?” Percy scoffed, turning to moodily walk away before stopping short and looking at the wallet. He didn’t need to damn girl’s charity, what right did she have to assume he wanted it? “Fuck’et.” He tossed the wallet at the homeless man, “happy fuckin’ Christmas.”
Stomping through the snow, he shook his hair free of snow, blinking against the increasingly heavy fall. He didn’t want to think about any of it too hard. If he did, it was likely to turn into a little fairy tale story, something straight from the Christmas Carol, or Twilight Zone.
A car’s horn blared at him as he crossed the street, the distinct call of ‘wanker’ trailing behind him as a marker beacon in the hideous weather.
“On December twenty-fifth, fum, fum, fum! On December twenty-fifth, fum, fum, fum!” Percy growled as he busted through the group, stalking as if the carolers had not been there with the purpose of sharing Christmas cheer. “Hey! Asshole!....” Everything trailed off into the distance as Percy rounded a corner, glancing futilely at a sign as he tried to navigate back to his hotel.
“Hap-“
“Piss off!” Percy screamed, reaching out to violently grab at the unwitting victim of the Vampire’s frustrations.
“Sorry!” The boy squealed, squirming about in Percy’s iron grip. “I didn’t mean it, sir! Honest!” Percy tossed the child away, frowning as he watched the flaxen haired boy scuttle away with the fury of a spooked cat.
“Alex…” He murmured helplessly, turning his back to the wall and leaning back. The snow was letting up a little, collecting in a pile about his feet as he slide down the brick walls and shuddered. “Dove hai andare, il mio piccolo angelo?”
He closed his eyes tightly as he pulled his knees tightly against his chest, his face hidden as soft tears traced slow paths down his pale face. Inside, something was breaking…among the hundreds of shattered pieces still left in him.
===
William Percy Hastings
OC
word count: 969
The blood dripped slowly down his arm as the distant sounds of carolers mixed with the wind swept snow. The red droplets stained the pearl, white of the snow, freezing into right red specks on the surface before it was covered with a new layer of snow. Everything seemed to move slower with the onset of winter, the holiday drawing near.
That was not to say that the rush of shoppers, the hustle and bustle of the Christmas cheer was not evident upon every street corner. The overwhelming promise of ‘good health and good cheer’ that came from each mouth that passed, gleeful shouting of ‘Happy Holidays’, ‘God Bless’, ‘Happy Christmas’! It was a never ending sea of happiness that could do little more than suffocate the unsuspecting, unwitting.
But for Percy such moments seemed to crawl. Winter had seemed unending in his youth, and every coming of the Season reminding him of the glorious summers in Southern Italy. It made him home sick for a land that he had barely spent twenty years in passing.
“God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day; to save us all from Satan’s power when we were gone astray.” A group of street carolers sang as they marched in a slow, monotonous pace along the street. “To save us all from Satan's power, when we were gone astray, o tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, o tidings of comfort and joy…”
Percy pushed off the wall a flick of his arm sending a spray of blood across the snow. The cold didn’t pierce his skin as he walked, trying not to gaze at the happy shops that lined the streets of Manchester.
Alassandro had wanted to see England, that was the only reason they had come…but then Alex had buggered off. Wanted to see the world for himself, and who was Percy to deny him that chance? Bloody, fuckin’ no one.
“Happy Christmas, sir!” A sweet voiced girl called to him, making him slow in his steps as the voices of the carolers faded around the corner. The heavy snow clung to his hair and lashes as he canted his head to the side, looking at the rag clad girl. “For you, sir! I jus’ found it, I did. Right there on the corner. Some bloke dropped it, and I thought you could use it more than me.” She held out a wallet, notes sticking out. A tenner, at the very least.
“What makes you think I need it?” He asked stubbornly, reaching out for the wallet to look at the ID that was stuffed in the clear socket. “Dressed bett’a than a fuckin’ street rat.” He mildly pointed out, before hesitating and motioning for her to take it back.
“S’alright, Sir. I got my own monies. Been pickin’ pockets all nigh’, and I was lookin’ at’cha. You been sulkin’ in that there corner since it stated’ta snow. No body even looked at ya twice, cept me. So I been figurin’ ye need some right holiday cheer.” She beamed at him, before turning and starting away. “Happy Christmas, Sir!” She called back before dashing off.
“Oi! Wait!” Percy started after her, jostling his way through the crowded streets, bouncing off of one shopper and then another. A myriad of protest were left in his wake, angry voices disrupting the peaceful cheer that surrounded the square.
It was only after half a block that Percy accepted defeat, slowly his pace as he stared about the area in wide searching eyes.
“Happy Christmas, sir.” A voice called, Percy’s head turning to inspect the street bound man, dressed as if he’d not seen a new set of clothing in ten years. “A pence for the hungry, sir? For the holiday cheer.”
“What do I look like, fuckin’ Bank?” Percy scoffed, turning to moodily walk away before stopping short and looking at the wallet. He didn’t need to damn girl’s charity, what right did she have to assume he wanted it? “Fuck’et.” He tossed the wallet at the homeless man, “happy fuckin’ Christmas.”
Stomping through the snow, he shook his hair free of snow, blinking against the increasingly heavy fall. He didn’t want to think about any of it too hard. If he did, it was likely to turn into a little fairy tale story, something straight from the Christmas Carol, or Twilight Zone.
A car’s horn blared at him as he crossed the street, the distinct call of ‘wanker’ trailing behind him as a marker beacon in the hideous weather.
“On December twenty-fifth, fum, fum, fum! On December twenty-fifth, fum, fum, fum!” Percy growled as he busted through the group, stalking as if the carolers had not been there with the purpose of sharing Christmas cheer. “Hey! Asshole!....” Everything trailed off into the distance as Percy rounded a corner, glancing futilely at a sign as he tried to navigate back to his hotel.
“Hap-“
“Piss off!” Percy screamed, reaching out to violently grab at the unwitting victim of the Vampire’s frustrations.
“Sorry!” The boy squealed, squirming about in Percy’s iron grip. “I didn’t mean it, sir! Honest!” Percy tossed the child away, frowning as he watched the flaxen haired boy scuttle away with the fury of a spooked cat.
“Alex…” He murmured helplessly, turning his back to the wall and leaning back. The snow was letting up a little, collecting in a pile about his feet as he slide down the brick walls and shuddered. “Dove hai andare, il mio piccolo angelo?”
He closed his eyes tightly as he pulled his knees tightly against his chest, his face hidden as soft tears traced slow paths down his pale face. Inside, something was breaking…among the hundreds of shattered pieces still left in him.
===
William Percy Hastings
OC
word count: 969