Alastor Christmas Novels & Stories

He's a time bomb that can go off at any time. Santo slides open one of the heavy drawers of the solid oak desk and pulls out a brown envelope made of kraft paper. He clamps his cigar between his teeth and pulls out a series of photos he raises in the air. "Do you know what these are, Lulu?" he asks me, his eyes dark. His Italian accent is even stronger than I remembered and has the effect of an ice-cold shower on me. He terrifies me. I say no with my head. Santo gives me a smile that would horrify even the Devil himself. Then he puts his glass on the desk to grab his cigar and blows the smoke to the side.

Maybe Miss C was up to her normal birthday shenanigans and had the kids all hiding in corners of the common room to jump out and scream “SURPRISE!” Smirking she took two steps at a time up to the front door, which was cracked open. “Miss C?” Ally pushed the door open. Walking over the threshold her nose was met with the smell from this morning. The enticing smell of the best steak ever made. Her eyes burned. Fuck. Not now…really. She covered her eyes with her sunglasses. She would be able to explain wearing glasses inside easier than her liquid tar, non-human eyeballs. “Miss C? A.J.? Alright guys you can come out now!” she tripped making her way through the hall to the common room.

3rd January, 1999(morning) The Warehouse Lana Its a never ending circle. A repeated sequence I experience everyday, locked up in this room with little or no contact. A hollow feeling in my heart whenever I think about my family, the grief I feel whenever I remember those who died in that bloody Christmas party.