OOM post: The Christmas Ghosts

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart does not care for Christmas.

He has not for years, and despite recent events, he still doesn't.

All the cheerful people make him feel like the devil in a midnight mass, apart and angry.

That entire religion is a sham, and the holiday is just a case of whistling in the dark to make the sun come back, when science clearly says that the sun will come back anyway.

Urquhart is sitting in his room, the snoring dog by his feet, drinking scotch and reading a book about sharks.

Science. Yes.

Then, he looks up. There is somebody in his room that shouldn't be there.

A woman?

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[scots_wolf]

Surprisingly little happens. There are people in the background, and warm lights in the windows of the bar.

"I guess that's all for the present," Urquhart says. "The universe has given me an odd little nook for an afterlife, complete with dog and friends and even friends with benefits."

[christmas_present]

"More than many get from the present," the Ghost observes.

In an afterlife or otherwise.

"We can walk on. See if there is anything more to see."

If there is not, they're steps will take them back to Milliways.

[scots_wolf]

Suddenly, it is summer, and day, in the same place -- and they are standing in the middle of the garden, and there are some young women going about their business in the background.

"It reminds me I belong here now," Urquhart says, quietly.

[christmas_present]

It's rare that he sees such contentment in those he escorts on this night.

That's not a bad thing, though.

The Ghost nods.

"There is a great deal of peace in knowing where one belongs."

[scots_wolf]

"I had not belonged anywhere, for years, before my death," Urquhart adds.

[christmas_present]

She nods.

"Perhaps we should walk on," the Ghost says.

To see if the path will take them to a new scene or return them to Milliways.

[scots_wolf]

It returns them; there is not much more to say about the present.

But what Urquhart has seen is good, as it is.-

[christmas_present]

The Ghost of Christmas Present waves her fingers at him as she fades.

"Happy Christmas, Urquhart."

And then he's alone again.

[scots_wolf]

He looks around, then sits again, feeling much cheered already.

The dog wakes up, shakes himself, wanders over and puts his head on Urquhart's knees.

[christmas_future]

Time passes, and then the gloom in one corner shifts, making way for a slim figure swathed in a dark cowl.

She extends one delicate hand, beckoning Urquhart to come toward her.

If he dares.

[scots_wolf]

He dares! He has come that far, he won't flinch from the third sibling now.

He comes and takes her hand, with a smile.

[christmas_future]

The spirit's own face is obscured by the hood of her cloak, though the grip of her fingers on his hand is solid as stone.

She takes one step, two, and as the shadows fold and unfold around them, they are already somewhere else.

[scots_wolf]

There is the whiteness of fresh snow around them, and not much else -- bluish light from an overcast sky, reflected by the snow that covers a soft, featureless landscape.

[christmas_future]

How far does their trail of footprints lead? Or is that, too, only an illusion?

These are the questions the ghost does not answer as they move swiftly through the snow.

Forward has always been the only way through.

[scots_wolf]

Forward is the only way out, as after the past and the present comes the future, and not the other way around.

The bright glare darkens towards dusk. Night follows day.

[christmas_future]

But so, too, must all paths end.

Eventually.

Where will this one stop?

[scots_wolf]

At a bonfire, where some shadowy, friendly figures with bottles greet Urquhart.

[christmas_future]

Yet to Come continues to walk, pausing only once they enter into the circle of firelight.

She has yet to let go of Urquhart's hand.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart looks at the faces; they are familiar.

"I didn't think I'd see any of them again," he says, quietly, to the Ghost. "They seem so content there, I'd never have thought."

[christmas_future]

She merely holds him there.

Waiting.

Never, after all, is a very long time.

[scots_wolf]

"One day," Urquahrt says, "I'll leave here, and join them."

He sighs, and the scene fades away.

[christmas_future]

One day, it must be said, everyone will.

Such is the fate of mortals.

The shadows stretch around them, and when they are gone --

[scots_wolf]

-- they are back where they started, in Urquhart's room.

[christmas_future]

And he is alone, with only the shadows in his mind for company.