Home for the Holdidays
The house stood snug against the snowy backdrop of the woods, a warm glow spilling out from its small windows. Harry trudged up the path, his boots crunching in the fresh snow. His bag was slung over his shoulder, heavier than he’d like, and the biting wind nipped at his face.
Inside, the monster waited.
Harry wasn’t sure what it did while he was gone—probably lurked in corners, brooded about darkness, and dreamed of its next meal. It wasn’t exactly a deep thinker. The monster was a simple creature.
As he pushed the door open, the smell of damp wood and something faintly unpleasant hit him. “You could at least crack a window while I’m out,” Harry muttered, stepping inside.
The monster stirred in the corner, its hulking, shadowy frame shifting slightly as its non existent eyes fixed on him. It let out a guttural growl—whether it was a greeting or a complaint, Harry couldn’t tell.
“I’m back,” Harry announced, dropping his bag by the door. “You’d think you’d be happy to see me, but no. Same old grumpy face.”
The creature’s lip curled slightly, revealing sharp, blackened teeth. Harry snorted. “Yeah, yeah, terrifying as always.”
He walked to the counter and began unpacking his bag, pulling out a wrapped bundle. “I brought food,” he said, tossing it onto the table. The monster perked up immediately, its movements quick and fluid as it stalked closer.
Harry watched as it sniffed the air, then tore into the meat with a ferocity that was both impressive and slightly nauseating. “You know,” he mused, leaning against the counter, “sometimes I wonder what you think about. Darkness, probably. And food. You’re a real philosopher, aren’t you?”
The monster paused mid-chew to glare at him, a chunk of raw meat dangling from its teeth.
Harry laughed, grabbing a mug and filling it with tea from the kettle on the hearth. “What? I’m not wrong.”
He settled into the worn armchair by the fire, sipping his tea as the creature devoured its meal. Outside, the snow continued to fall, the world silent and serene.
For a moment, Harry allowed himself to relax. The fire crackled, the warmth seeping into his bones, and the monster—strangely—seemed content. It made an odd, low rumble as it finished eating, curling up near the hearth like some nightmarish housecat.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re not taking my chair.”
The creature rumbled again, a sound that might have been a growl—or a laugh.
And despite everything—the darkness, the danger, and the fact that his guardian was a literal man-eating monster—Harry couldn’t help but smile.