Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the house,
not a creature was stirring,
save a strange franken-mouse.

His stitches were taut.
His fur was of jade.
He clung to a sack,
full of gifts he had made.

He departed his home,
with nary a peep.
And entered some houses,
while the world lay asleep.

Slumbering and snoozing,
all tucked in their beds,
lay little children,
dreams filling their heads.

With utmost care,
and unbridled delight,
the little chimera,
skulked through the night.

Beneath every pillow,
under every kid,
a small little something.
was carefully slid.

I was going to write a poem that would slowly get creepier as it went on but I am rather tired and burnt out lately so here is a picture and the tiny part I got to writing. Yes, yes it is horrifically cliche. Oh well, Happy Holidays everyone. (Yes I know it is early, but classes end soon and I'd rather put something up now instead of waking up near Christmas day and finding myself too tired from tests to make anything for the occasion)

And I'll leave it up to imagination, what I left under the pillows, I mean. Let us just say that it was quite a... scream.