This happened a few times. As a kid, I searched upstairs in the attic to get a box of decourations to put on the tree. I wanted to help momma. I found an even older box in a corner, covered in cobwebs. Inside were dusty baubles I've never seen before. I was about to take them out when I heard something giggling in the attic. No one was up there with me. I couldn't find it, and I hurried down as quick as I could.
Now momma forgot about those other decourations and she said they were from her childhood. So we started using them each Yule on our trees. I remember helping her to wipe dust and cobwebs off the old baubles. They looked all silvery with prints of Victorian children in winter furs.
Each Yule, everytime that I went in the attic to get the boxes of decourations, I always heard little laughter inside the attic. And no source of the laughter. Just a creepy feeling.
Now I'm 18 years old and going home for the Yule season to spend time with momma. I once again helped get the decourations of baubles from the attic and heard the same laughter. I thought I would mention it finally to momma.
"Momma, do you keep a laughing toy hidden in the attic?" I asked her downstairs while we decourated the tree.
"No why?"
I told her about the laughter. She went white as a ghost. Then she dropped one of the old baubles as she ran off upstairs. I went after her to ask what's up.
"The laughing you heard is the same laughter I used to hear as a kid," she told me. "Once I saw a tiny creature playing in the tree with the decourations. So I didn't want to see those decourations again. My parents must've put the decourations all in the box so I forgot about it for many years. Since then I put it down to my imagination. Now you've heard it too Fiona."
"What creature did you see?" I wanted to know.
She described a teeny person that smelled of gingerbread. Sorry momma, I couldn't stop laughing.
That night was a full moon and I became a wolf. I do this every full moon, and have been doing this since I was about 10 years old. Momma is like me. She became a wolf already and was gone somewhere. I remember hearing that giggling but now this time it was coming from the tree.
I watched as a little gingerbread entity crawled down from the tree. Then before I was able to react, it turned and danced quickly across the room. I chased it in the direction where it was going, up the stairs and up into the attic. I wasn't able to venture up the ladder in my physical wolf's form, so I stayed below the attic and waited. I waited until dawn, until momma came back home with blood on her mouth. She'd been out hunting and caught some hare. I was waiting patiently for the gingerbread being to come back so I could destroy it.
I resumed human form told momma about what I saw. We went up into the attic and looked everywhere. The gingerbread man was gone. I started to wonder if I dreamt it.
So what momma did was, when Yule holidays was over and we packed away the usual decourations, she put all the old Victorian baubles in the box and donated it to charity. She didn't want it anymore. And I don't know if that will rid the house of the laughing gingerbread until next year, when I venture upstairs to the attic. And if that thing laughs again, I'll try and catch it. Like the wolves in mythology, I am determined to eat this spirit.
That was my story and my name is Fiona. I'm in a huge international club for werewolf girls and we all tell our stories. I hope you enjoyed my story.
((The Fenrir's Daughters fiction stories belong to author Rayne))
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2015 Rayne Herbert.
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