Silent is the Night

This is a tough time of year. It's been so long since his last feeding, and worse, he still has several weeks to wait. They stretch in front of him, yawning wide and black with needle-teeth of hunger pains.

The weather turns, and the cold deepens. The night dark pulls in, squeezing the daylight hours like a fat man pulling in his belly to edge through a tight space. These things only sharpen his appetite even further.

The coloured lights strung up all over town are switched on. Their cheery twinkle is reflected in every pair of eyes, both innocent and cynical. Another reminder of how close (and how far!) he is from satisfying his hunger. He glares at them. His bowlful of jelly grumbles.

Ahh the little tots, they are so soft and warm in his lap! The scent of them rises up from those adorable heads, with their curls, their mops, their pigtails and braids. He breathes it in and savours it, the buttery sweet smell of them. His hands twitch, how badly he wants to crush and twist, and slurp and chew and crunch... Their screams, just as delicious, a fine accompaniment to wash it all down.

Surely just this one would be OK. Just to keep him going. Hardly anyone would miss it.

Trembling with the scrumptious agony of denial, he hands over another poorly wrapped gender neutral pencil case, and shoos the latest smooth0-skinned, un-nibbled snack off his knee so he can welcome the next one.

Some of them know. They scream blue murder over their mothers' strained smiles and the click of a camera shutter. Noisy brat.

On and on it goes, punctuated by the things he always says. "Be good!" "You will, of course, behave well for another year?" "I shall know if you're naughty or nice, you know! I have a list. I'll be checking it. Twice."

Sometimes, to underline this point, he takes a red notebook out of his breast pocket and waggles it. A knowing wink, a stern finger wag.

It's all a lie of course. The notebook is blank. He doesn't care about their character, or what they do. Naughty or nice, they all taste the same.

You better watch out.

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Word count: 366

(NB. This excludes the title, subtitle, and author's note.)

Submitted on Wednesday 20th November at 22:54

The story behind the story: This is the second one I've done in a You Better Watch Out collection, which I'm doing to span that time between Halloween and Christmas. Enjoy!

A Year of Stories: I'm writing (and submitting, here) a story every day this year. This continues my 325 (!!!) daily micro-fiction story streak since 1st January.

ONLY FORTY-ONE DAYS TO GO!

Please consider lending your support to the other creators on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They're putting out excellent content every day!

Rachel Deeming

Gerard DiLeo

Thank you

Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and I am extremely grateful for your ongoing support.

Thank you to those who leave feedback/comments.

I am still plodding away, catching up on reads. If I'm already up to date with your stories, I read someone else's!

If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!

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Thank you again!