Christmas Socks

51 8 2

by IanRCooper

by IanRCooper

The hideous thing scrambled from the dryer drum and perched atop it, screeching. In one fat little claw, it held a single object; a fir-tree green sock with a portrait of Rudolph stitched onto the side. The deer's bright red nose sat between a pair of eyes that had been sewn on a bit crossed, giving him a simultaneously goofy and malevolent look.

My mind raced back to two Christmases ago, when Candace had presented them to me with pride on her cherubic face.

"Merry Christmas, Daddy!" She beamed.

"They're awesome, sweetie! Thank you, Candy Cane." I smiled back at her and held them up to my face while Tessa took a picture. "Rudolf is almost as handsome as Daddy, don't you think?"

"Handsomer," Candace said before bursting into a giggle fit. I swooped her up in my arms and blew raspberries on her tummy as she squealed with delight.

I was all smiles that day, full of cheer and flush from a couple pints of eggnog the previous night. Now I wore a threatening scowl. I didn't know what this winged creature was, but I'd be damned if I would let it take a precious memory from me. I lunged at it with both hands and it flitted away from me. My elbow hit the dryer, right against the funny bone.

Cursing, I resumed the chase, grasping at it with my uninjured arm as it bounded from place-to-place in the dank basement. We knocked over shelves of bolts and screws, forgotten knick-knacks, and power tools.

Finally I caught the thing by its dumpy torso. It felt like stone in my hand. The beast tried to take flight again, pulling me about the room. This time, i banged into the washing machine. I must have pushed a button, as I heard the appliance begin to fill with water.

The imp bit down into the meaty part of my hand, between thumb and forefinger. Blood flowed from its pointy teeth and down my forearm. I almost let go, but another memory flashed through my conscious. Tessa and I laying face-to-face later that Christmas night, our noses touching.

"You can take those socks off now," she said.

"I'm gonna wear them forever."

"The way your feet smell? You'll have to sleep on the couch after tonight."

"They're so ugly," I smiled.

Tessa threw her head back and laughed, "She picked them out special for you, y'know."

"I know," I nuzzled and kissed her neck. "I love them."

My grip tightened around the creature and I threw open the washer lid. I plunged my hand deep into the machine. The water turned crimson as the imp thrashed below.

"Alright you little sock thief, I've seen you fly, but let's see how well you can swim."

A/N: This story is an entry into @Ambassadors "Aim to Engage" collection for Day 2| The Beast In the Basement. Since my name is Ian, I chose the letter "I" and got an imp.