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    The Devils You Meet On Christmas Day
    The Devils You Meet On Christmas Day
    The Devils You Meet On Christmas Day
    Ebook126 pages1 hour

    The Devils You Meet On Christmas Day

    By Mary Gray, Katie Coughran, Vanessa K Eccles and Cammie Larsen

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    About this ebook

    The season isn't what it seems. 

    While some are nestled cozy in their traditions, others are lost in darkness. An unkindness of ravens lurks like a warning above them while they try to escape their inner demons and fight the dragons they've been trying to avoid. There's no enjoying fatal amounts of pie because their minds are slipping, slipping into a twisted delusion. They are the murderers, the disturbed, the unfortunate, and the misunderstood. These outliers are imprisoned by their circumstances until they slowly fade into the icy landscape, smothered by the forged façade of a perfect Christmas. 

    In this unsettling collection of stories, authors Katie Coughran, Vanessa K. Eccles, Mary Gray, and Cammie Larsen explore the darkened corners of paranormal, horror, and fantasy to create a gothic and somewhat macabre Christmas read.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMonster Ivy Publishing
    Release dateMar 12, 2018
    ISBN9781948095082
    The Devils You Meet On Christmas Day
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    Author

    Mary Gray

    Mary Gray moved through small town newspaper editing, corporate public relations, and international travel planning before she retired to write poetry, essays, magazine articles, and Poetic Justice. The manuscript was a semi-finalist as a novel-in-progress in the 2017 William Faulkner-William Wisdom Creative Writing Competition. She is the ghost writer for two memoirs, Gerald Fitzgerald’s Africa by Air and General John Henebry’s The Grim Reapers at Work in the Pacific Theater. She has delivered readings at the Chicago Public Library, The Printers Row Book Fair, the Chicago Humanities Festival, the Emily Dickinson Poetry Series, the University of Chicago, and DePaul University. She graduated from Northwestern University School of Journalism and has attended the Ragdale Writers’ Retreat and the Piper Writers Studio at Arizona State.

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      Book preview

      The Devils You Meet On Christmas Day - Mary Gray

      Introduction

      This anthology is a compilation of seven short stories. Grab some hot chocolate and your fuzziest blankets, because this compilation will give you chills from the tops of your heads all the way down to your toenails.

      1

      The Skeleton Key

      By Katie Coughran

      The young man had been waiting at the table a long time. Or maybe it just seemed so due to the carefully wrapped package that rested in his coat pocket, nagging at him incessantly. Sitting alone, frequently checking his pocket watch, George was anxious for the arrival of Miss Trussell, in whom he had special interest .

      George’s mind wandered – as it often did – considering the necessary move to his new home that had been incredibly difficult. At the same time, it was one of the greatest blessings of his life. If it weren’t for Andrea Trussell, though, I would be miserable and completely out of my mind.

      Looking around, George happily observed the decorations in the main hall of the communal lodgings he called home. The Christmas tree in the corner was decorated with ornaments and brightly glowing candles, garlands were strung around, and there were wreaths on the doors that led to the kitchen and entryway. It’s rather difficult to tell that the paint is peeling and the wallpaper is coming off in this charming light, George thought, trying to distract himself from checking his pocket watch once more.

      I wonder what it would take to get that wallpaper changed out for something new and fashionable, he considered, still unused to his abode, which was much humbler than the estate he was supposed to have inherited. Sighing and looking at the table setting, George sat up straighter. It doesn’t matter though, I suppose. As long as Mara is here, too –

      Catching the wrong name as it crossed his mind, George blushed a little, then shook his head. Correcting himself, he mumbled aloud, "I mean, as long as Andrea is here, too, I suppose nothing else matters."

      Right at that moment, George’s thoughts were cut off when Andrea came through the door, her attendant walking alongside, supporting her. Standing up, George’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across his face. It’s no wonder I confuse her with Mara. She looks just like her – so lovely with her bright red lips and dark hair that I wish I could see let down. I’m sure it falls below her waist.

      Visions and memories of Mara came to mind, and they were so powerful, George felt as though he had traveled to another place and time. Especially when he thought of the first night he’d met Mara.

      It had been cold out, but the ballroom was filled with laughter, friends, and dancing – enough to warm their souls and lift any spirits that had long been suffering. As soon as he took in the scene, the jovial dance music playing, candles lighting the room, exquisitely fine food and drink piled up on tables, George knew the night would be special.

      Using his very best manners, George went directly to the host and hostess, ready to give thanks and compliments for the night of festivities. Mr. and Mrs. Gardner, what a lovely evening. Thank you for including me. It’s all wonderful, from your beautiful tree, to the lively music.

      Why, you are welcome, young Mr. Edwards, Mrs. Gardner said, smiling when he gave just a slight bow, indicating respect for both his and her rank. We are glad to have you. Although, please tell your parents we are sorry they could not also attend.

      You are most gracious, George said, trying his best to smile, though he knew there was a hint of sadness to it. His mother had been unwell for some time, and it had taken a toll on his father. Always keeping to her rooms, George’s father paid his mother the keenest attention, though George thought it might drive him mad, someday. One can only stay trapped in a room with such an unwell person for so long before it takes effect. Like some kind of emotional contagion.

      I wish your mother well, Mrs. Gardner said kindly. Then, her tone brightening, said, Now, let us think of something else. You’re a fine young man and came to dance; let’s find a partner for you.

      Taking a moment to look around the room, Mrs. Gardner’s eyes widened when she saw a young woman whose back was turned to them. I have just the young lady for you, Mr. Edwards – my niece. Come with me a moment.

      Holding his arm out, George escorted Mrs. Gardner past the dancers. Cutting through several onlookers, they came to a young woman wearing a beautiful, deep blue satin gown, her dark, almost-black hair pulled up and decorated with little white flowers.

      Miss Voss, Mrs. Gardner said loudly, as only older women could do and still maintain socially acceptable manners. Excitement for the evening filling him, George was anxious to make introductions and join the others on the ballroom floor. I have a young friend for you to meet and dance with.

      Although George liked a pretty woman as much as the next man, at his somewhat young age of eighteen, he hadn’t yet met one that inflicted total and instant infatuation on him. Until Miss Voss turned around.

      As soon as she faced George, however, he could see the depths of her gray eyes, ruby red lips, and enticingly smooth skin. And the moment he felt the primal, gripping, demanding urge to draw close to, kiss, and touch Miss Voss’ soft skin, George knew he was a changed man. And that he would never be the same.

      Miss Voss, this is Mr. George Edwards, Mrs. Gardner said, smiling knowingly as her niece looked shyly at the besotted Mr. Edwards.

      It is my great pleasure to meet you, Miss Voss, George said, and couldn’t help himself when he took her gloved hand and kissed it.

      The pleasure is mine, she replied, her cheeks turning rosy.

      May I have the next dance? George asked, his heart pounding as he wondered if she would accept his request.

      With a slight nod of her head, Mara agreed, saying, Gladly.

      The night was full of dancing, and mostly with Miss Voss. Along with the cheerful music, her bright, yet shy expression and kind words kept him warm. And George experienced a new feeling; there was great discomfort in his core every time Mara was taken from him. It moved George so much that he couldn’t tell whether it was pleasure or pain he felt as he anticipated their next rendezvous at the food table or on the ballroom floor.

      Too soon, guests began departing, and George knew that etiquette required he take his leave as well.

      Miss Voss, it was my great pleasure to meet you tonight, he said, bowing and smiling warmly. I do hope our paths will soon cross.

      As do I, Mr. Edwards, Mara replied, her complexion glowing.

      Riding home in the carriage, George’s mind wasn’t tired, but awakened; it was alert and provoked by Mara. Before his mother had taken ill, Mrs. Edwards had often encouraged him to find a wife. A good, sweet, woman who would make him happy. And, though he knew it was utterly ridiculous to choose a wife after an evening of dancing, George felt he couldn’t help himself. He was smitten.

      Though the Christmas ball had taken place just a year previous, the memories were as fresh to George as the moment when he had met Mara. They were so vivid that – had Andrea not appeared – George would have happily sat and recounted them in his mind. I remember everything from the time spent with her family, to our picnic, and even that final, horrible night.

      Miss Trussell, George said, fighting to focus on the woman in present company, not the ghosts of his past. Stepping forward, he gave Andrea his arm, relieving the attendant. Carefully, George helped Andrea to the table, steadying her when her troubled leg seemed to collapse a little as it was often wont to do.

      Hello, Mr. Edwards, Andrea replied, her voice as sweet as her eyes. And how do you do this evening?

      I am well … now that you’re here. And you?

      Blushing a little, Miss Trussell bowed her head slightly, saying, "I’m very well, Mr. Edwards."

      Soon, the service brought out soup and – steam rising and bringing with it the herb-filled aroma, the delightful Christmas Eve supper had begun. Smiling at each other over their festive meal, they spoke of Christmases past, family they would miss seeing for the holiday, and joined in when spontaneous caroling was brought on by a group of boarders.

      The singing had begun with a young man, not much older than George, who raised his glass and started up with, Deck the Halls. The next moment, all at his table – most of whom were musicians who often jaunted around together – quickly picked up the tune. Still carrying their drinks, they walked up to the front of the room, singing so loudly, the great hall was filled with the beautiful sound.

      Charlie, one of George’s particular friends, disappeared no more than a moment, returning with an accordion he masterfully played. It was such a treat, and their music was so

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