Two Drabbles for Winter

Fractal

I wake. Separate. Alone. A self.

My first breath curls a fearful vapor. I am cold. Heavy. Falling. Cast down from gray brume dreams. Bending. Transmuting. My limbs take shape, long and lithe. Dripping light. A thousand worlds tremble along my seams.

I am joined on my journey. Others alike, yet distinct. Facets unique, impossible anomalies. We are legions, spinning through space. Scattered on a biting breeze. Dances. Collisions. Fractures. Our lifetimes are measured from heaven to earth.

I see you there. Bright eyes turned up to greet me. Oh, this heat. Melting. Searing. Worth the end to kiss you.

Satanic Panic

It woke to sugared breaths beneath the floor. Chiming bells. Fevered whispers. Creaking patters.

What's happened? it grumbled, slitting a groggy green eye.

Thumping. Shrieking. Rip! Rip! Rip!

It leaped from its rumpled nest. Horns tingling. Shadows hackled. Fire? Attack?

Ichor atremble, it oozed between the boards, hissing through an assault of blinding twinkles. Gilded paper littered the ground in shredded tatters. Red ribbons sprawled as entrails.

A little pink figure straightened up among the frosted needles of a towering pine. Mousy hair frizzed wild. Pale eyes moon wide. Then her lips folded up over absent front teeth.

"Merry Chrithmath!"