The Other Grinch

2 days ago

If anyone had told me I’d be running for my life on Christmas Eve, I’d have never believed it. I thought this to myself as I saw my life flash before my eyes not once, or twice, but three times on that fateful eve.

There’s a saying that goes, “What you don’t know can’t hurt you.” So on that unfortunate night I listened to Grammy Hathaway tell me that story, I knew I’d messed up big time.

“What Christmas story do you have for me, Grammy?” She paused on her rocking chair, bringing it to a halt and looked at me.

“I don’t want those sappy Christmas stories, Grammy. I want a different one. One that will shake me to my boots.” I let out a giggle. Grammy told the best stories, so it was okay for my nineteen-year-old self to giggle like a kid.

“You sure you want to hear a different type of Christmas story, kid?”

“Hit me with the best you’ve got,” I whisper-yelled emphatically.

She suddenly had a serene smile on her face that let me know she’d gotten the perfect one. Wriggling into a more comfortable position, Grammy leaned towards me and asked, “Have you ever heard the story of the other Grinch, Kid?”

I shook my head, eyes widening a fraction. The weather was dropping a bit, so I guess Grammy was going to take advantage of that to make her story more epic. Motioning me to scoot closer to her, she began:

Everyone knows the story of the Grinch. The regular Grinch who hates Christmas and tries to ruin it every chance he gets. What they do not know, is that the green monster had a twin. No one knew what his name was, and so for identification, they just called him, The Other Grinch. This was because this Grinch didn’t look like his twin. He wasn’t green and didn’t have mean eyes.

In fact, no one knows what The Other Grinch really looked like. Rumours had it that he could shape-shift into anyone and anything he wanted. Some even say that most of the evil deeds the Grinch did weren’t actually perpetrated by him, but by his twin, The Other Grinch, who shape-shifted into his brother and caused havoc everywhere.

But there was a stellar difference between the Grinch and his brother. While the former perpetrated evil on everyone spreading the Christmas cheer during Christmas, the latter waited for a special occasion. Christmas eve. It is said that The Other Grinch, who despises Christmas even more, would wait for Christmas Eve and make sure he caused as many people as he could not to live to Christmas morning.

No one knows how he does it, but when you see someone suddenly take ill or die on Christmas morning, know that he was visited by The Other Grinch. While The Grinch has faded into oblivion and is no longer causing ill to mankind, his brother still roams about, looking for who to devour on Christmas Eve.

“And that, my dearest, is the story of The Other Grinch,” Grammy ended with an airy chuckle. Myself, on the other hand, had eyes as wide as saucers gazing at her.

“How co...come I never heard this story before now, Grammy?” I fought hard not to stutter.

“Well, kid, that’s because this story is best told on Christmas Eve itself. Which is why I’m telling you today.”

Standing to my feet, I began to get my coat.

“Where are you going to, child?”

“Uhmmm...home?” I suddenly didn’t want to be around Grammy’s house anymore with that sort of story lurking in the air.

“You sure you’re not going to wait till morning? It looks like a blizzard is approaching.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Bye Grammy.” I bent and kissed her on her papery cheek. I was nearly at the door when Grammy called out to me.

“Hey, Kiddo.”

“Yeah, Grammy?”

“Be safe okay? Go straight home, and if...” her voice developed a catch to it. “And if anyone calls out to you, don’t look back and keep going, okay?”

“Grammy, stop —”

“I mean it, Kid.”

“Okay, Grammy. Bye now, and Merry Christmas to you.”

“Merry Christmas, darling,” She mouthed just before I closed the door with a soft click.

The air was frightfully cold and had gone eerily dark even though it was just 6 pm. My brisk walk kept slowing down with how hard the wind tossed me about, but I trudged ahead. Maybe I should have stayed back at Grammy’s, but I just couldn’t risk it. Yeah, the story was a myth and just one of the brilliant stories whipped out in Grammy’s very imaginative brain, but it felt real for some reason. Eager to get the whole experience out of my head, I continued the walk home.

I didn’t know when I felt it, but it became insisted when I was three blocks away from home. Someone was following me. I could hear the soft movement in the snow and knew for sure that it wasn’t in my head. Unable to shake the feeling, I broke into a faster walk, and now I could hear it. The insistent crunch of snow as whoever that was increased their pace.

Oh my, was someone really after me?

Adrenaline surged in my veins as my brisk walk turned into a run. No way this was happening to me the very night I found out about this guy. And then I heard it. My name. Whoever it was, was calling my name.

Anastasia.

Anastasia!

Anastasia!!

It grew insistent and drew closer with each call of my name, and I found myself in a break-neck race with someone who was pursuing me with just as much vigour. Nothing else mattered at that moment. I needed to reach the safety of my house before it got to me. I blinked back the tears that threatened to block my vision. This wasn’t how I was going to die.

But even with how fast I ran, I felt it draw even closer. I could see the twinkling Christmas lights of my house from where I stood and I picked up speed. I was nearly there.

Almost there....

Almost.....

Then I felt a hand grip my shoulder and I let out an ear-shattering scream as I swirled with bunched fists ready to attack.

“Grammy?”

Looking at me with an equally startled expression was my Grandma, her back hunched as she gasped for air, shudders vibrating from her with each intake of breath. “What are you doing out here?” She raised something to me then. It was my parka.

“Anastasia, you left this at home,” her voice cracked with fatigue.

I was bewildered. “That wasn’t enough reason to come out, ma. Didn’t you see the weather?”

Somewhat cradling her, we took the short walk into the house. Mom was setting the table for dinner and looked at us.

“Just in time, my lovelies. You didn’t tell me you were bringing your Grammy home, Anastasia.” Without waiting for a response, Mom sauntered back into the kitchen, probably to get another dish.

I turned to Grammy who was still by the door looking around. “So, Grammy, where did you learn to run that fast?”

She chuckled. “Oh Anastasia, it had always been in me, I guess.”

I looked at the parka still in her hand, and that’s when I realized, that though it was mine, this was not the parka I took to Grammy’s house. Said forgotten Parka was right there with me. At the same time, a sickening realisation dawned on me.

Grammy never called me by my first name. Never.

I looked up, and our eyes met. The creepy smile I recognised from books and TV broke forth, but this one had lips far too wide and teeth far too many to be the regular one I knew.

“You’re not my Grammy, are you?”

“Took you long enough, Anastasia. Took you long enough.”
Then, it went dark.