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By Kay Hanifen
“What the fuck!” Maven screeched, stumbling away from Erica and the human heart that still beat in her box. Erica just stared at it with a placid smile on her face.
Ronnie thought he might be sick. Rich and John were definitely sick, running to the bathroom. The sound of retching filled the air louder than the last few bars of George Michael’s “Last Christmas.” Ronnie would have found it darkly funny if it wasn’t for the beating human heart still in his presence.
Kate stood on the outskirts, watching in horror with her hand covering her mouth as she moved to stand between Erica and Brenda. Mildred stared in horrified fascination at the impossible organ while Rachel and Bethany slowly backed away.
Only the Innkeeper and Nicodemus seemed utterly calm. The cat trotted up to him and let out the most pitiful meow. The Innkeeper knelt beside him and scratched him behind the ears as he smiled gently. “Yes, I suppose you have been very patient. Fine. Go ahead and claim your prize.”
He unclasped the chain collar on the cat, and suddenly, it wasn’t a cat anymore. It grew to the size of a tiger, with glowing red eyes and protruding teeth. The room erupted in screams, but just like the rest of the night, the monster only had eyes for Erica.
With a growl, it pounced, knocking her chair backwards as it tackled her to the ground. Her screams filled the air as it savaged her, clawing at her and sinking its massive teeth into her shoulder. She still struggled as it dragged her brutalized body to the chimney. The two vanished in a puff of smoke.
Kate fainted.
“What the hell?” Rachel breathed beside him.
“Hell is exactly right.” The Innkeeper stared into the fireplace looking vaguely sad, but far less upset than the situation warranted. It was less like one of his guests had just been dragged to hell by his damn cat and more like he’d dropped an ice cream cone.
“What are you talking about?” Bethany asked.
“And seriously, what is going on?” Brenda demanded. “Are we all done pretending this shit is normal?”
Guilt curdled in Ronnie’s stomach, making it throb like when he had appendicitis a few decades ago. While he was sore from the car spinning out, the nausea had started when the very first present opened, and only grew worse as the night wore on and he got to see the fruits of his greed. If he had known what would happen, he would never have bought that damn advent calendar from the flea market. These people were all his friends, and even if he didn’t mean to, he truly hurt them all. Erica was even dragged to hell because of him.
He knew that Rachel blamed herself for this, believing that she’d somehow failed to keep up the Christmas spirit. But really, this was all his fault.
He missed his wife, Jude. She would know what to say and how to make this all right. And even if she didn’t, she would still be there to hold his hand and comfort him.
His was the last gift, and everyone was going to see what an unforgivable bastard he was. Because there was nothing else this gift could be. And he would just have to live with the consequences.
The Innkeeper sighed and sat in his chair, motioning for others to do the same. “I promise that all will be revealed. But only after the last gift is opened. Then, it will begin to make sense.” His bright eyes met Ronnie’s, but the latter couldn’t bear the intensity of his gaze. He looked away.
Kate moaned from the floor, slowly sitting up. Her face was pale, but her eyes blazed furiously. She shrugged off Brenda’s hand with a snarl and got to her feet, practically shaking with rage.
“You!” She pointed at the Innkeeper. “What the fuck is going on? What is this place? Why have you chosen to torment my friends like this?”
Everyone exchanged shocked glances. “You swore,” Maven said, otherwise speechless for once.
Kate whirled on her. “Yes, I fucking swore. I just watched one of my friends be dragged to hell by this—this demon! And I want some fucking answers.”
The two women locked eyes for a moment, and then Maven broke out in a wide smile. “Fuck yeah. Go all Karen on his ass.”
Kate’s glare softened slightly. “Don’t push it.”
Mildred placed a hand on Maven’s shoulder. “What Maven means is that we’re proud of you.”
Kate seemed quietly pleased by the compliment, but then, she turned back on the person holding them all hostage. “Well? We’re waiting.”
“I’m not a demon,” the Innkeeper said softly. “Nicodemus is, but I keep him on a short leash. Speaking of, here he is now.”
The cat reemerged from the fireplace smelling of brimstone and trotted to the Innkeeper, letting him put the collar back on. Slowly, he began to transform once more, becoming the fluffy black creature from before. He settled in the Innkeeper’s lap, purring when he scratched his chin. Everyone backed away, putting space between themselves and the cat.
The Innkeeper rolled his eyes. “No one else is hell bound tonight. He won’t bother you.”
The cat begged to differ. Nicodemus licked his chops as he watched them, looking as though he was ready for seconds.
“What is that thing?” Mildred asked.
“He’s the Yule Cat.” The Innkeeper’s fingers dug into the cat’s fluff. “Traditionally, he would hunt down people who weren’t wearing their new winter clothes, but ever since I bound him to me, he’s had a bit of a different job.”
Carrie would have known all about the Yule Cat, both in tradition and the present. And she would have given a long lecture on the folkloric reasons for the monster’s creation, her eyes twinkling as she would link it to other mythical figures from Christmas lore. Ronnie knew in his heart of hearts that she was gone, and it made his chest ache from the loss. Hopefully, she was with her Ramona now. All the other gifts had brought his friends pain, but he was glad to have reunited her with the book and the memories contained within. He wondered if there was a passage on the Yule Cat in there. Probably.
“And what did you mean when you said no one else was hell bound?” Rich asked. “How would you know?”
The Innkeeper shook his head. “No. Not until the last story is told. Ronnie, if you will please collect your gift from under the tree.”
All eyes turned on him. Ronnie swallowed, unable to meet the gazes of his friends. “I don’t want to.”
“Please,” Rachel said softly. “It’s the only way we’ll get answers.”
He felt like a child again, like he was in his mother’s kitchen with the baseball bat behind his back and the broken vase scattered on the floor. He couldn’t sit down for a week after that incident, and he swore never to do the same to his kids when he grew up, no matter how angry he was. And he never did.
Except this was not just a vase. Though he never meant to hurt his friends, he’d unwittingly done something unforgivable. Now, though, it was time to face up to it.
Taking a slow breath in and out, he headed to the tree, making sure to give the Innkeeper and his demon cat a wide berth as he did so. Then, he walked back to his chair and sat. A part of him wanted to prolong the inevitable while the other wanted to rip off the band-aid and the paper and be done with it.
The latter desire won out, and he tore away the wrapping with gusto. The sounds tore through the quiet room, somehow louder than the fire and the record playing “Twelve Days of Christmas.”
As expected, the present was a black, wooden box with the numbers one through twenty-four, along with a wreath painted on each little door.
“Is that an advent calendar?” Bethany asked.
“Not like any you’ve ever seen before.” He turned to the Innkeeper, taking in his familiar features. The realization punched him in the gut. They had met before. Hell, he’d even mentioned his cat. “One that he sold me.”
All eyes turned towards the Innkeeper. “You’ve met before?” Brenda asked.
“What’s he talking about?” Mildred demanded, turning to Ronnie.
His eyes widened as he put up his hands in a placating gesture. “I didn’t make the connection until just now. I swear.”
The Innkeeper smiled. “It’s true. I sold him the calendar. And I’m sorry for any pain it might have caused. Once you give me your confession, I’ll give you mine.”
Ronnie sighed. He supposed there was no getting out of this. Everyone was going to hate him after, but not as much as he hated himself. “I just want to preface this by saying that I had no idea any of this would happen.”
