March 10, 2022
Writing Exercise: Evil Holiday Figures
Sinister Santa, Evil Easter Bunny, Corrupt Cupid… In this writing activity, you will write about a famous holiday character who has turned evil. Something may have ticked in the Easter Bunny’s head, making him a malevolent monster, or maybe Santa became frustrated with all the people on his naughty list and decided to take a different approach than just putting coal in your stocking. Have fun creating your evil version of a holiday figure. Below, I share my own response to this prompt. Evil Santa
2 a.m., and up on the rooftop, I hear loud banging. “Who could that be?” is on my family’s mind. My father fetches the rifle with the thought that an intruder is attempting to encroach on our house. As a paranoid redneck, he has the intention to shoot any trespassers without inquiry of their actions. “Be quiet, stay low,” he mutters to me and my mom. He exits into the frigid cold, but the instant he steps his first foot outside, he wails and thrashes. Something red jumps onto my father and crushes him flat onto the cold snow. The contour of this creature is ginormous like that of a gorilla; it chants a haunting melody of incoherent words while devouring my father’s flesh. I duck down under the dining room table and cover my ears while I try to conceal my voice. I am only six; what prowess could I possibly hold to defeat such a defiant beast? My mother is wailing on the kitchen floor holding a knife. Just then, the window next to my mother breaks loudly, shedding sharp shards of glass over the kitchen floor. I close my eyes, but I hear heavy footsteps intruding the house; each footstep sounds like a loud roar of thunder that penetrates the heart. The footsteps stop abruptly when I assume the beast sees my mother. “Oh…uh…ho ho ho ho ho,” it sings. My mother shrieks. Then it is quiet. I open my eyes to see what is happening, but no one is there. My mother is gone. I hear a click to my left; I turn my head in fear to see the shadow of a jack-in-the-box. It begins playing a cold crooked melody for 20 seconds, then Jack pops out and sprays something in my face. I begin experiencing profound malaise and fatigue and, immediately, I pass out. As soon as I regain consciousness, I find myself in a massive flying chariot. The wind is so frigid that my face hurts. I am tied up in ropes and chains, and I see my mom in the chariot, too. She has frozen tears on her cheeks, and she is dressed entirely in white with a wedding veil. I look at my legs only to see that my legs have become shorter, and a green hat falls from my head. “Mom?” My voice has become more high-pitched like a toddler. She shushes me. The beast is holding us hostage and is taking us to an unknown location. It is at that time when I can fully see what the monster is. It is Santa Claus.
—Conner Tuthill