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Baby, It’s Cold Outside part 3: The Eighth Night

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“Get that repugnant thing away from me!” She screamed.
But Neddy inched forward with the baby. He looked like he was gently cradling a brick. If the baby could squirm it would do so just like the woman’s stomach. This had gone too far! The woman, without hesitation, unhooked her cuffs. She was was certainly not a weak woman. Years of physical training had brought forth masterfully sculpted quads, a Michelangelo dream. She brought up her machine of a leg and bucked Neddy across the jaw. With a yowl he dropped the stillborn onto the cement floor.
“I forgot to mention before, I’m not really a Christmas fan!”
Neddy’s jaw clicked together like cogs in a machine, his fat lips could not cohere a sentence to match his pained ,if not surprised, face. She was a 10 out of 10 equipped with spring-loaded limbs, Neddy was a blueberry compared to her. As she charged at him, his arms dropped to his side, for he was no match. The white flag had raised. In an instant Neddy felt his heart shrinking two sizes to small, quite literally. A snow plow was driving itself into his chest and pouring him onto the floor. He was done.

The woman pinned him to one of the manger support beams with only one arm and an elbow digging into his throat. With the other arm she yanked a string of Christmas lights from above and began coiling them around his jelly gut. His screams were gargled by a waterfall mouth of blood as she chained him tightly to the nativity scene.

“It’s no use” she said, “these walls are sound proofed”.
He tightened his eyes shut, he couldn’t bear to look his former prey in the eye.
“Now I recommend you to stay still while I’m gone, though it won’t help you either way” She said.
Neddy watched, as best as he could, the woman walk upstairs and seal him in alone with the dark.
He was trembling, little beads of salty water opened themselves like eyes on his palms and the five or six golden arches he had left upon his head, were getting sleepy.
“Bitch is gonna get it!” He thought.
“Bitch is gonna get it! Bitch is so gonna get it”
He would be the Christmas King not her and when he got his chance he would make her pay.
He nested himself in a blanket of hay beneath the wisemans drooping stare, he felt no warmth.

It had almost felt like hours had passed when a diamond of light pricked through the door at the top of the door.
“Neddy darling, I made you a special treat.”
He looked up like a dumb goat with hay falling down his chin.
She came down the stairs, gracing each step one-by one. In her hand was a stove top pan.
He looked at her puzzled.
“What is that shit smell?” He thought.
The air wafted with a smell of bad McDonald’s, a smell he knew far too well.
“Now I know you love Christmas and all, but I thought I would introduce you to a tradition from my side of the family”
She clenched the lid covering the pot and chucked it across the room like a Frisbee.
“Tonight is the last night of Hanukkah and since you were so gracious to show me your favorite traditions, I would like to show you one of mine.”
She waved the pot beneath his nostrils, slowly the little bubbles inside splattered in his face and began to sink themselves into his flesh.
“Careful, it’s hot!”She said as the pan flew out of her hands spewing flaming oil to all corners of Neddy Bate’s face.

Happy belated Hanukkah!

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About littleblogofhorrors666

You have entered the Little Blog of Horrors. Each week or so, something new and horrific will be posted. Everything horror related whether it be horror movies, shows, books, video games, clothing, recipes or even musicals. Keep checking if you dare

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