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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[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.