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  • Format: ePub

WARNING: Contains high impact horror and mature themes. Discretion is advised.
'Twas some days before Christmas, when all through the night
People were stirring, as they lived out their plight;
The lights were hung high, where the druggies would stare,
In hopes that St. Hariman soon would be there;
The children weren't nestled inside of their beds,
They walked on the streets where the Krampus still treads,
And Papa, who watched from inside the store,
Was distracted by the staff on the floor -
When out on the path there lumbered a figure,
Who moved with the speed
…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
WARNING: Contains high impact horror and mature themes. Discretion is advised.

'Twas some days before Christmas, when all through the night
People were stirring, as they lived out their plight;
The lights were hung high, where the druggies would stare,
In hopes that St. Hariman soon would be there;
The children weren't nestled inside of their beds,
They walked on the streets where the Krampus still treads,
And Papa, who watched from inside the store,
Was distracted by the staff on the floor -
When out on the path there lumbered a figure,
Who moved with the speed of a younger man's vigor.
And away he was gone, like a lightning flash,
Tore through the night with a bang and a crash.
People had turned to watch the man go,
But the child looked down at the object below;
When, what to her wondering eyes had appeared?
But a Christmas coloured candy that looked kind of weird.
He'd watched from the darkness with a sinister grin,
As Hariman's night was about to begin,
The child was curious, but far too shy,
So he slipped through the dark and whispered nearby:
"Now, little girl, swallow it whole,
"Santa won't want to leave some coal,
"To the front of your teeth, to all down your throat,
"Let Santa give you all that you wrote."
She peered through the dark at the man who stood high,
When their gazes met and she believed his lie.
She took the candy and stepped into the light,
Where the flashes from Hariman's store were most bright;
With his store full of toys - and his grin full of knives,
He stepped far away from the little kids lives.
A sucker, they say, every minute is born,
But one little failure was enough to warn,
So he slunk back out of the public's sight,
There were more children, and to them a good night.


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Autorenporträt
Lex Williams is a novelettist ( although occasionally writing novellas with the rare novel ) whose intent is to take advantage of self-publishing stories to provide interesting, different and weird ideas that you won't find in traditionally published stories. Williams typically writes for the horror genre ( usually dipping into the surreal variety ), but has explored other areas, such as ( non erotic ) romance and science fiction.