Chapter One: The Prophecy Begins

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There is a prophecy from long ago that a child of white hair and red eyes shall be born to an unwed woman. He is destined to be cursed, for this child is the son of Evil, and therefore, cannot experience the usual childhood innocence he would otherwise be entitled to. It will be his duty to uphold the balance of Evil against Good. All those who care for him shall meet their deaths by his own hands, for none can love Evil and survive.

None can stop this prophecy from becoming truth.

Because the child has already been brought into this world.

“Noël, what are you doing?”

The boy looks down at the knife in his hand, brow furrowed in confusion. Where did this come from? He quickly throws the blade in his desk drawer, shoving it closed with his hip.

“Noël?”

He turns to face the door, plastering a smile on his face.

“Yeah, come in.”

The door swings open, revealing his mother, Lily. She smiles at him, a plate of cookies in her hand.

“I was just wondering if you’d like a Christmas cookie. I just made them.”

“Uh, sure,” he replies, stepping forward.

He takes a fat snowman and bites its head. It’s still warm.

“How are they?” asks Lily.

He nods. “Great.”

“Oh, good. Well, I’ll leave you to do what you were doing. I’ll see you later.”

What was I doing? he wonders, as his mother leaves the room. Where did that knife come from?

Shaking his head, he sits at his desk, and watches the snow falling outside.

Lily is not Noël’s actual mother. She is not even his second mother. His real one died giving birth to him, sixteen years before. Afterwards, he was adopted by his aunt, her sister. She died in a freak accident when he was five, and he was passed on to the last sister. She, too, died tragically, and he was sent into foster care, having run out of relatives willing to take care of him. They considered him cursed, because of his strange white hair and red eyes, and feared they would die if they took him in. He became very frustrated trying to be liked by his own family. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he did understand that he was hated, and that caused him to grow very introverted and avoid people. Lily has become the only one he trusts.

Noël stands up, shaking his head of memories, clinging like cobwebs to his mind. There is no use in dwelling in the past. Besides, it’s Christmas. He should be getting ready for the small party his mother has planned for tonight. A few of her close friends are attending, and from what he could gather from her excited chatter, there will be a few kids his age there, as well.

Not that he’s particularly excited about the whole affair, but it would be nice to maybe make a friend or two...

He peers at himself in the mirror hanging on his midnight blue wall, trying unsuccessfully to tame his shaggy white hair. It insists on hanging in front of his ruby eyes, getting in the way all the time. Still, he can’t bring himself to cut it; it’s like a shield from the rest of the world.

He hears the doorbell ring downstairs. Somehow, Lily has rigged it so it sounds like jingle bells, rather than the usual ‘ding dong’. Every time Noël hears it, he cringes. Still, it’s better than what she does on Valentine’s Day...

“Noël, could you get that, please?” calls Lily from the kitchen. “My hands are kinda full at the moment...”

Stifling a sigh, Noël trudges down the stairs, walking into the small foyer. He opens the door, stepping aside to let the first pair of guests in. They’re an older couple, most likely from Lily’s office, and they smile warmly as they pass him, heading for the basement (it’s really big down there, set up like a lounge with a huge fireplace. Lily uses it for all her parties). Noël nods back at them, checking for any other guests before closing the door.

He goes to the living room to straighten up a bit, waiting for more people to arrive. There’s really no point in going far, since it seems it’s his job to answer the door. He stacks the magazines and newspaper neatly on the coffee table, then adjusts the cushions on the sofa. It’s only a matter of minutes before the sound of jingle bells floats through the house again. Noël hurries to the door and pulls it open, blinking at the small crowd of people. They stream passed him, saying their ‘hellos’ and ‘Merry Christmases’ and he nods at them in reply. He really doesn’t like these parties very much. Too loud and busy, not to mention the awkward socializing.

He’s barely closed the door when the bells go off again. He yanks it open, and comes face to face with a teenage boy. He blinks at his with wide aqua eyes before a grin splits his freckled face.

“Hey, I’m Travis. Uh, I’m here for the dinner party?”

Noël blinked. “Uh, sure.” He gestured to the basement door. “It’s just down there.”

He smiled and stepped into the house. “Thanks.” He tilted his head to the side curiously, his ginger hair falling across his forehead. “Do you live here?”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, Lily’s son.”

“Cool.” He winks. “Awesome hair and eyes, by the way.”

The white-haired boy shrugs.

“I suppose.”

“You ready to go down to the basement?”

“Ah, I’d better stay here and keep an eye on the door.”

Travis grins. “Okay, so, I guess I’ll see you at the party.”

Noël watches the other teenager disappear down the stairs, then leans against the wall, waiting for the bells to jingle again. How many people did Lily say would be coming, again?

Noël stands in a secluded corner in the basement, watching the partygoers move around and talk. He idly sips from the can of pop in his hand, bored, and wishing he could leave. Unfortunately, Lily is keeping an eye on him, making sure he doesn’t escape. And since there’s only one way out of the basement, he’s effectively trapped. He sighs, closing his red eyes and leaning back against the wall. How long do these things normally last, again?

“Hey, thought I’d find you eventually,” drawls a familiar voice right next to him.

Noël’s eyes snap open and peer at the grinning Travis.

“Oh, uh, hi...” the white-haired boy murmurs.

“So, what’re you doing here all by yourself, hm? I mean, there’s a party going on barely five feet away from you. Mingle!”

Noël shrugs. “I don’t feel like it. I don’t really like parties.”

Travis snorts. “Liar. Everyone likes parties.”

“Not me,” the other teen insists. “I’ve never liked them.”

“Well, I think it’s time to change that.”

Travis grabs his arm, and drags him away from the wall. Caught off-guard, Noël stumbles forward, splashing soda on his arm. Travis immediately stops, looking embarrassed.

“Oh, geez, sorry about that. I didn’t notice the can...” he apologizes, rubbing his head and giving a crooked smile.

Noël shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. This is an old shirt anyway. Besides, it’ll clean.”

“That’s good.” Travis’ grin returns. “Okay, then, let’s go socialize! The night is young!”

Not wanting to spill anymore pop, Noël puts down the can and allows himself to be pulled along.

A bit of mingling won’t hurt, will it?

Travis turns out to be a pretty fun guy. Noël spends most of the evening with him, talking, joking, even laughing. Noël hasn’t had a good laugh with someone his age since...well, maybe never. He’s really not a very social person, which is understandable with the deaths of his mother and two aunts on his shoulders.

Travis’ parents are called out suddenly during the party; an emergency of some sort. Since Lily is thrilled to see Noël hanging out with someone, she invites Travis to sleep over, allowing his parents to leave without worrying or feeling guilty for leaving their son alone on Christmas Eve. They’re happy that Travis will have some company while they’re gone.

Noël wonders what it will be like to have someone sleep over. No one’s ever done that before, so Noël’s reasonably nervous. Lily, however, is completely ease with it, and seems excited to see Noël making friends.

Her son, on the other hand, is a bundle of nerves. What if he does something stupid? What if Travis ends up hating him? Could he really bear to lose his first friend since coming to live with Lily?

His mother calling him to come say goodbye to the guests distracts him from his thoughts, and he trots up the stairs to play the part of normal, non-cursed son.

Shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

It’s been a few hours since Travis has been there, and Noël’s starting to feel a lot more comfortable. Right now, the other teenager is in the kitchen making...something. Popcorn? Noël can’t quite remember. Lily’s gone to bed, leaving them with instructions to keep the house in one piece and not annoy the neighbours. Maybe this friend thing isn’t so difficult after all...

“Uh, Noël?” calls Travis’ voice from the kitchen. “Help!”

The red-eyed boy jumps up from where he’s curled on a giant beanbag in the den and dashes through the hall to the kitchen. He slides to a stop when he sees Travis at the microwave, staring inside the open door, where dark smoke is billowing out. Noël immediately dashes for the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall, fiddling with it, then pointing it at the smoking microwave. White foam shoots out, filling the hole and spraying both boys in the process. The smoke quickly disappears, and Noël opens a door to keep the smoke alarm from going off.

“What happened?” asks Noël, staring at Travis with wide ruby eyes.

“Uh, a slightly-out-of-control fire?” giggles his friend nervously.

“How’d that happen?” questions the other teen, somewhat amazed.

“I tried making popcorn...and failed.”

He looks so putout, that Noël can’t keep the giggles from escaping. Eventually, he starts full-out laughing, leaning against the wall for support. After a minute, Travis joins him, freckled cheeks turning pink with amusement. Finally, the pair run out of air, and slide to the floor, catching their breath. They avoid looking at each other or the abused microwave in case they start laughing again. Noël can’t help grinning. He hasn’t had this much fun in a long time.

Travis lies sleeping beside him on a futon Lily pulled out from some hidden closet before she went to bed. The boys are in the den, but Noël cannot fall asleep. His body feels weird, like it’s not really him, and his mind keeps going fuzzy. He blinks several times, trying to fight off the feeling, but it’s not working.

Finally, he goes under. He feels like he’s floating, watching the world from far away, detached from his body. He sees his hand twitch, then his body sits up. His head turns to look up at him, a wicked grin slowing sliding across his pale face. He’s confused. How can he be moving when he’s up here? He watches as his body rises to his feet and slowly moves to the door.

Then he’s gone.

Noël stands above Lily’s bed, knife in his hand. Smiling slowly, he raises it above his head, blade flashing in the pale light streaming in through the window from the moon.

No one can stop him now.

“Merry Christmas, mother,” he whispers, blood red eyes glinting.

The blade descends.

No one can stop him now.