Short Fiction

Deck the Halls

((I know I have not posted any fiction the last two Sundays but it is December. Everything shall go back to normal in January. For now, a Wednesday night bit of holiday cheer.))

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“What do you think? A little more to the left?” Fivet held the bits of decoration against the wall. He glanced back to his companion, an identical version of himself, with a questioning look.

Fourt tilted his head. “A little more, yes.”

Fivet adjusted and left-over blood dripped on his hands. More blood trailed down the floral wallpapered hall of their suburban house. “Who would have thought that humans did this sort of thing every year? If I had a child, I certainly would not name them Holly just for this very reason.”

Fourt scratched his head, a bountiful mop of black curls going wild in every direction. “Humans do have strange customs but this comes from the Old Stories. We must do as it says. Deck the halls with boughs of Holly. And the Google Galactic Translator said that boughs are the arms.”

Fivet nailed the scrap of skin in place. “Their fluids are so disgusting. If the pictures had not shown boughs of Holly to be red, I would have thought to remove the blood altogether.”

“Did not the pictures also show the arm also being green?”

Fivet shrugged. “I had not figured that one out. When I severed the Holly’s arms, I expected the inside tissue to be green but as you can see, I was wrong.”

Fourt took another piece of human arm and examined the inside of it. “A bit branch still in there?”

“The white? Yes, that is part of the branch. Give me that piece there. I will hang it up on this side of the hall.”

“Do you think we have enough? I think the cashier at the gas station is named Holly. We can cut off her arms if you want more.”

Fivet frowned. “In an effort to blend in, that is not a bad idea. Our Christmas party must appear authentic.”

Fourt slid on the oversized coat and took the woolen gloves from the entryway table. Once properly clothed against the cold, he picked up the saw laying against the corner wall. “What do we do about the bells though?” he asked as he opened the front door. “Have you figured out how to slay them yet?”

“No,” Fivet shook his head. “Google Galactic does not have anything on how to slay bells.”