The Day After...

I t was the day before Christmas when Georgie-Porgy decided he had to fulfill his yearning. He would kill all the people in the World. He would do it in 24 hours. It was ample time. But first he would like to eat some macaroons. He simply adored macaroons. They were his favorite sweet. Even more than flesh. His mother had made him taste it as soon as he had stopped suckling her breast milk. Actually she had been feeding him milk and blood. Her blood. But that was old history. His mother dear had passed on yesteryear on exactly this day. She would love the irony of his resolution. He swore in her memory that he would destroy this world, get rid of those rodents that thought they were big shots, those humans. After all it was the least he could do since his metamorphosis had been completed. Being a superior form of life had its responsibilities. He had to do it for the little people. The ones he hated. The ones that had killed his mother. And father. And everyone else of his family. The offerings that were their rightful offerings, their sacrifices had stopped. They had starved them to death. No smoke no life. Simple as that. Food was not enough. He had to eat them all, in order to survive. But no more. He needed human vitality. He needed their life force.

It was the day before Christmas when John J. Dorison woke up with a scream. He had had a vivid nightmare. Later while driving to work in his two-seater sports hydrogen fuelled subcompact he decided that real estate was not his calling any more. Driving aggressively he started to play the Game. Hitting pedestrians proved an intoxicating game. As he lay semi conscious behind the wheel of his vehicle having being shot by a S.W.A.T. sniper Georgie-Porgy started laughing as he left the host body.

It was the day before Christmas as the fleet of small fishing trawlers started its fishing in the middle of the bay. Jonah Grizzly was thinking about his second mortgage on his boat and wishing he could strike it big this time so as to get rid of the first one. But wishes didn't fill his nets. Then Fred Hopers' ship started to act crazy. Fred appeared on the flying bridge with his old WWII M1 rifle. He started shooting like a maniac. Jonah ducked in the boats well. He grabbed his trusty two-shot Winchester hunting rifle and tried to shoot Jonah. He accidentally shot some compressed gas tanks which Jonah had on his deck thus exploding them. Jonah, engulfed in flames, continued to shoot while he was burning to a cinder. By the time Georgie-Porgy left the burnt shell that was once a human five boats had gone under.

It was the day before Christmas when the small village of Fremsticle, in the slopes of the Carpathian Alps, witnessed an atrocity unheard for since the Dark Ages. A mob had formed in practically no time in order to perform a ritual killing of a corpse. Rumors of a vampire had proven correct as the village elders opened the casket of their village teacher who had passed away a fortnight ago. His body exploded with a loud bang as they set it on fire-after having driven a wooden spike through his heart- spilling blood, victims' blood, on the entire mob. It burnt like acid. The mob started to scream and dissolve as people started to fall dead. Georgie-Porgy had had a killing spree but left the host body unsatisfied. This wasn't fast enough. He had to find another way. Quicker.

It was the day before Christmas when Major Gregory Petroff lay in the "Seat of Power". Being buried alive two hundred feet under the Siberian tundra wasn't his idea of spending Christmas but New Russia was a harsh place for an Army Major. Especially for a divorced one with two alimonies pending and a loan shark hot on his back thanks to a gambling habit. The War Room of the New Russian Empire was a well kept secret, one which had survived from the olden days. The Soviet ones. Petroff couldn't remember anything from those days except for the cold. It was always cold then. Well some things never change. The new regime had promised food and heat for all. But alas it was all hot air. No make that all air. Empty promises. Like his life. But here, sitting in his all encompassing seat of power, he felt strong. Very strong. The little red button was resting on the middle of the plain metal console in front of his seat. It was so small…

Georgie-Porgy decided that this was the opportunity he needed. This was the way to get rid of them puny humans.

Petroff pushed the button. Alarms started blaring while angry voices blared via speakers. This wasn't supposed to happen, thought Petroff with that part of his mind that wasn't under Georgie-Porgy's influence. But he couldn't do a thing. He was forced to be a spectator at the end of the world as we know it.

It was the day after Christmas and Georgie-Porgy felt exhilarated. He could start experimenting with other pleasures. Destroying intelligent beings was quickly becoming passé. He would have to come up with something really innovating if he wanted to make an entrance at the lesser gods' party on New Years Day.

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