By: Alex Richter
In the heart of a quaint town, where carolers sang, and holiday lights twinked, lived a young vampire named George in a snowy cottage. For about a decade, he’d been disguised as a plain, young man. He’d taken the habit of adopting the tradition of the era he was in, even though it was vastly different from when he was living. Throughout the years, George had always had a special place in his heart for Christmas.
The last blue ornament was placed carefully on the tree as George sighed, admiring the beautiful Christmas tree that he’d spent hours decorating. He grabbed his phone, pocketing it, before stepping into the cold snow. Though the ground was frozen, George’s town bustled with warmth and excitement. He loved his town, and often participated in the festivities, especially during Christmas.
Rumors spread throughout the vampire community about a mysterious and mystical potion known as the “Crimson Cocoa;” this potion was known to grant any supernatural creature permanent mortality. However, since many of the vampires were hidden within the crowds, George had difficulty learning about it. He’d always dreamed of finding another vampire and being able to bond once again, yet he’d always found himself alone.
Being mortal again was what George had always wanted. A vampire gave George a map whose identity was a mystery to him. The journey appeared long and boring; even with his inhuman running skill, he’d get there in about a day or so.
The outside of George’s town was ghostly. Once he passed it, he let his legs take him as fast as he possibly could go. The birch trees were painted a bright white and black and appeared to be wooshing by him at the speed of light. The leaves changed from a deep green to a sea blue and a velvet purple. This was the enchanted forest.
George was on his feet for hours, yet didn’t struggle too much, as he was willing to speed through vast terrains to reach his goal. As he got closer to the Crimson Cocoa, he managed to find two vampires and a young ghost whom he’d recognized from his mortal life. The vampires were traveling together, yet they looked nothing alike. Their names were Clay and Tommy. The ghost, Wilbur, was a schoolmate of George’s as a teen.
“Clay shut it. You’re not my dad,” Tommy grunted as they jogged through the terrain.
“Ugh, I wouldn’t want to be your dad with you complaining this much. I don’t know how your parents tolerate you,” Clay snapped.
“Chill out, everyone. And stop walking so fast,” Wilbur murmured as he struggled to keep up with the swift creatures.
As Christmas approached, they ended up in a building that, according to the legend, held the infamous Crimson Cocoa. The air was thick with anticipation as he unlocked the door to the kitchen. Once inside, he was surprised to find not only one glimmering mug of Crimson Cocoa but three. Now the question remained, did he give it to his friends, or keep one for himself, and let one of his friends wander alone and immortal on this day?
“George go ahead, you deserve it,” Clay smiled.
“Well, I want one!” Tommy shouted excitedly, grabbing one for himself. “If you don’t mind Wilbur…”
“Tommy, you can go ahead and do whatever you want. There’s nothing I can do to stop you,” Wilbur chuckled.
“I don’t know… Clay, are you sure you don’t want this?” George asked.
“George, take it,” Clay said, placing the warm mug into George’s cold hands.
The choice weighed heavily on George’s immortal soul, but ultimately, he’d decided to extend the gift of humanity with his supernatural companions. He would simply have to live with immortality until he found another way. Though his Christmas was merry and bright, the time ended. George stayed a vampire, and as sad as he was, his now mortal friends stuck with him through and through, waiting for the day that George’s opportunity would come.