Vengeance of Cristmas Past

Prompt: The Summoning

Back and forth, back and forth, I rolled the toy train back and forth on my 18th century desk until the surface was covered in many minuscule marks and some not so minuscule. I had had this toy train for one hundred years, ever since it had been given to me on Christmas Day 1916 by my uncle.

I had been 8 years old then, newly orphaned when on March 29, 1916 my parent's train crashed into another that smashed into a third from behind that had been traveling in the opposite direction. "A gift for you, Elan," my new guardian said as he swigged whiskey. My drunk of an uncle tossed me a badly wrapped package and laughed as I opened it, wide-eyed and on the verge of tears. I may have wept that night, as I had wept for the loss of my mother and father, but I was laughing when he died ten years later, choking on his own bile . . .

The sky was dark. I watched it, mesmerized as I always had since I had been turned into a vampire. Never had the night held beauty till I could understand its darkness. Out from the desk's drawer, I took out a small box and tipped the contest over the train. Bat bones, dried roots and a few grains of Dead Sea salt tumbled along with a few other things on the worn metal of the old toy. I had never dared, not till tonight . . . Outside my window a wolf howled. I smiled and bowed my head, the spell whispered on my lips.