Gracie
I take a deep breath, steadying myself as we step onto the desolate plain. The air feels heavy, charged with an unseen energy that makes my skin prickle. Twilight stretches endlessly around us, neither day nor night, just an eternal in-between.
"Well, this is cheery," Zelda mutters, her usual snark falling flat in the oppressive atmosphere.
Before I can respond, the wind picks up. It's not just a breeze - it's alive, whispering, taunting. Jack's laughter, once warm and infectious, now twists into something cruel and mocking. It echoes in my ears, growing louder with each gust.
"You're too late, Gracie," the wind seems to say. "The Jack you knew is gone forever."
I stumble, the words hitting me like a physical blow. Cristof catches my arm, his face etched with concern.
"You okay?" he asks, but I can see the strain in his eyes. Whatever he's hearing isn't pleasant either.
Holli's face, usually bright with optimism, has gone pale. "It's lying," she says, but her voice wavers. "It has to be."
The wind howls, drowning out her words. It carries with it the weight of lost hopes, shattered dreams, and the bitter sting of regret. I watch as my friends' faces crumple, one by one, under the relentless assault.
Zelda's sarcasm, her shield against the world, seems to wither. "Maybe... maybe we should just turn back," she says, her voice small and uncertain.
"No!" I shout, fighting against the despair threatening to overwhelm me. "We can't give up. Jack needs us. Christmas needs us."
But even as I say the words, doubt gnaws at me. The wind whispers of failure, of disappointment. What if we're already too late?
Abbi clutches Dane's hand, both of them looking lost and afraid. Cristof stands tall, but I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes dart nervously.
The plain stretches endlessly before us, a sea of twilight and sorrow. Each step feels like wading through molasses, the wind's whispers growing louder, more insistent.
I push forward, gritting my teeth against the onslaught of whispers. The wind seems to target each of us individually, exploiting our deepest fears and insecurities.
Zelda's face contorts as the wind hisses, "You'll never be worthy of becoming Baba Yaga. Your magic is weak, your wit is dull. You're nothing but a disappointment."
I watch her stumble, her usual confidence crumbling. "Shut your pie hole, you glorified breeze," she snarls, but her voice lacks its usual bite.
Cristof's silver eyes cloud over as the wind taunts him. "You'll fail just like your ancestors. Christmas will die under your watch. You're no Santa Claus - you're a fraud."
"I won't let that happen," he growls, but doubt creeps into his voice.
The wind swirls around Holli, its whispers turning saccharine sweet. "Why fight it, darling? Embrace the darkness. It's so much easier than pretending to care about this ridiculous holiday."
Holli's green eyes flash with anger, but I catch a flicker of temptation in their depths.
Sassy's blonde curls whip wildly as she faces her own demons. "Creator witch? Ha! You can't even create a decent meal. You're nothing but chaos and destruction."
"I'll show you destruction, you windy wanker!" Sassy shouts, but her hands tremble.
Even the cats aren't spared. Fat Bastard, Boba, and Jango huddle together, their fur standing on end as the wind hisses promises of eternal loneliness and abandonment.
Dane transforms into his reindeer form, as if hoping his majestic antlers might ward off the whispers. But I see the doubt in his blue eyes as the wind mocks his leadership.
Abbi clings to Dane's fur, her gothic makeup smearing as tears threaten to fall. The wind cruelly mimics her Scottish lilt, "You'll never belong here, outsider. You're not strong enough."
And me? The wind saves its cruelest barbs for last. "Poor, clumsy Gracie. Jack never loved you. He used you to get close to Christmas magic. You're nothing but a pawn in his game."
I feel my knees buckle, the weight of despair crushing down on me. But then, through the cacophony of whispers, I hear a faint, familiar voice. It's Jack - the real Jack - calling out to me.
"Gracie, don't listen! It's all lies!"
His voice, though weak, cuts through the wind's lies like a beacon of hope. I straighten up, a newfound determination coursing through me.
"Everyone, listen to me!" I shout, my voice carrying over the howling wind. "These are just words - they have no power unless we give it to them. Remember who we are, why we're here. We're stronger than this!"
I take a deep breath, steadying myself against the onslaught of whispers. Jack's voice, faint but true, echoes in my mind. A plan forms, crystallizing with each passing second.
"Everyone, sit down! Form a circle!" I shout over the howling wind.
Confusion flickers across their faces, but they comply. Zelda plops down with a dramatic sigh, her auburn curls whipping wildly. "Oh good, story time in hell. Just what I always wanted."
"Join hands," I command, ignoring her quip. I grasp Cristof's calloused palm on one side and Holli's slender fingers on the other.
My mind focuses on the locket Jack gave me, its metal cool against my skin. I focus on his voice, letting it drown out the wind's lies. Words form on my lips, a spell I didn't know I knew until this moment.
"By love's light and friendship's might,
Through darkness deep and endless night,
To safety's hearth and warmth's embrace,
Transport us to our sacred space!"
Magic crackles through our joined hands. The wind's howls turn to shrieks of fury as golden light envelops us. The desolate plain dissolves, replaced by a whirlwind of shimmering snowflakes and twinkling stars.
We land with a soft thump on plush carpet. The scent of cinnamon and pine fills the air. A fire crackles merrily in a stone hearth, casting a warm glow over the cozy cabin interior.
Sassy blinks rapidly, her curls askew. "Holy reindeer nipples, what just happened?"
Zelda's eyes dart around the room, taking in the Christmas decorations and the soft, twinkling lights. A smirk spreads across her face. "Well, well, well. Looks like Jack and Gracie's love nest to me."
Heat rushes to my cheeks. "It's not – I mean, we haven't –"
Dane, still in his reindeer form, snorts in amusement. Abbi pats his flank, a smile tugging at her black-painted lips. "It's beautiful, Gracie. How did you know about this place?"
I touch the locket again, feeling its comforting warmth. "Jack created it for me. A safe space, hidden from the world."
Cristof nods approvingly, his silver eyes twinkling. "Smart thinking. The Ancient Evil can't reach us here."
As if on cue, a familiar voice calls out from the kitchen. "Anyone want hot chocolate?"
My heart leaps in my throat, as Jack emerges from the kitchen, a tray of steaming mugs balanced precariously in his hands. Without thinking, I rush towards him, arms outstretched.
"Jack!"
I collide with his solid form, nearly sending hot chocolate flying. His arms wrap around me, warm and real. I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent of pine and winter air.
"You're here," I whisper, my voice muffled against his sweater. "I can touch you."
Jack's chest rumbles with a soft chuckle. "Perks of being closer to the Temple of Shadows," he says, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and worry. "The barriers between worlds are thinner here."
I reluctantly pull back, searching his face. Dark circles rim his eyes, and there's a new scar cutting across his left cheekbone. My fingers trace it gently, and he winces.
"What happened to you?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Jack's ice-blue eyes darken. "Let's sit down. There's a lot to explain."
We gather around the fireplace, cradling mugs of cocoa. Jack perches on the arm of my chair, his presence a comforting warmth at my side.
"The Ancient Evil," Jack begins, his voice low and strained, "it's been... experimenting. Trying to break Christmas magic, corrupt it." He takes a shuddering breath. "The things I've seen, the pain..."
I squeeze his hand, offering what little comfort I can.
"But that's not the worst of it," Jack continues. "They're planning something big. A sacrifice."
Cristof leans forward, his silver eyes flashing. "What kind of sacrifice?"
Jack meets his gaze, his expression grim. "Santa Claus. That's all I know. Everyone's lips are sealed tight. No one's talking, not even my idiot Uncle Jack."
The room erupts in shocked gasps. Cristof's face drains of color, his fists clenching at his sides.
"We have to stop them," Cristof growls, a fierce protectiveness in his voice.
Holli's brow furrows. "But how? Those whispers out there... they nearly broke us."
Jack nods, understanding in his eyes. "The Whispers of Despair. They feed on fear and doubt." A small smile tugs at his lips. "But they have a weakness. Christmas carols."
Zelda snorts. "You've got to be kidding me. We're going to defeat ancient evil with 'Jingle Bells'?"
"Not just any carols," Jack explains, ignoring Zelda's eye roll. "Ones sung with true Christmas spirit. Your hearts have to be full of joy, hope, and belief in the magic of the season."
I feel a flutter of doubt in my chest. "But how can we feel joy after everything we've been through?"
Jack's eyes meet mine, a fierce determination burning in their icy depths. "By remembering what we're fighting for. The wonder of Christmas morning, the warmth of being with loved ones, the magic of believing in something greater than ourselves."
His words spark a tiny flame of hope within me. I look around at my friends, seeing that same spark reflected in their eyes – even Zelda's, though she tries to hide it behind a smirk.
"Well," Zelda drawls, "I suppose there are worse ways to go than belting out 'Deck the Halls' at the top of our lungs."
Jack's expression grows serious, his grip on my hand tightening. "Time's running out. You need to go now."
My heart sinks. "But you just got here-"
He presses a finger to my lips, silencing my protest. "Remember the carols, Gracie. They're your shield against the darkness."
Before I can respond, he vanishes, leaving nothing but a whisper of cold air.
I blink, and suddenly we're back on the desolate plain. The whispers assault us immediately, stronger and more vicious than before.
"Failure," they hiss. "Weakling. Fraud."
Panic rises in my throat, but I force it down. "Deck the halls with boughs of holly," I start singing, my voice shaky.
The others join in, their voices a discordant chorus. "Fa la la la la, la la la la."
Nothing happens. The whispers grow louder, drowning out our attempts at festive cheer.
"Jingle bells, jingle bells," Cristof tries, his deep voice cracking under the strain.
The wind howls, mocking our efforts.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Zelda shouts, her green eyes flashing with defiance. "Enough of this Hallmark bullshit!"
She takes a deep breath and belts out, "Grandma got run over by a reindeer, walking home from our house Christmas Eve!"
Sassy's eyes light up, and she joins in, "You can say there's no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa, we believe!"
A giggle escapes my lips, the sheer absurdity of the moment cutting through the despair. Holli snorts, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
"She'd been drinking too much eggnog," Dane warbles, his reindeer form swaying to the beat.
"And we begged her not to go," Abbi chimes in, her Scottish lilt adding an unexpected charm to the ridiculous lyrics.
As we sing, I notice the whispers fading, replaced by our increasingly enthusiastic rendition. Cristof's booming baritone provides a steady backbeat as Zelda and Sassy compete to see who can sing the most dramatically.
"When we found her Christmas morning," I belt out, feeling lighter with each word, "At the scene of the attack!"
"She had hoof-prints on her forehead," Holli gasps between giggles.
"And incriminating Claus marks on her back!" we all shout together, collapsing into a heap of laughter.
The plain around us shimmers and fades. As our laughter subsides, I realize we're standing in a warm, glowing chamber. Ornate Christmas decorations adorn every surface, and the air smells of cinnamon and pine.
"Well, well," a familiar voice drawls. "Looks like you lot finally got your heads out of your asses."
Baba Yaga stands before us, resplendent in a sequined pantsuit that would make Elvis jealous. She arches an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Welcome back to the Heart of Christmas, kiddos."