Page 7 of Scary & Bright
“Trip?” I asked, still unsure who I was speaking with.
My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat as I continued to search around the room from my sitting position. There were quite a few things I hadn’t noticed at first that I could see now. There were wooden boxes stacked in the corner near the bars of my cell, full of what looked like old vintage toys and scrap fabric. A beautifully carved wooden rocking horse was situated just beside the boxes, its white and lilac paint job chipped and worn, and its rainbow yarn mane tangled together.
“Yeah, silly! The trip from where you were to where you are now!” the rocking horse said, tilting back and forth on its rockers.
Wait. The rocking horse spoke?
I rubbed my eyes with both hands, feeling like I was certainly imagining things. Or worse, maybe I had been drugged.
“Hello!? It’s really me!” the horse continued, moving closer to the bars of my cell with a slight forward-backward movement.
“Ah!” I yelped. “What the hell!?”
It was all my body and brain could think to do. I tipped backward onto my palms and began to scoot myself away from the horrifying living toy. There was no way I wasn’t hallucinating, but I couldn’t shake the vision that a talking rocking horse was trying to get my attention, presumably to start a conversation.
“Calm down! Calm down!” it urged, rocking closer and closer to the bars.
“What do you mean, calm down!?” I shrieked, finding myself backed against the stone wall behind me. “How are… What are… I…”
“I can’t explain anything if you keep freaking out like this!” the toy hissed, poking its wooden head between two bars. “So, take a breath, accept that what you’re seeing is what you’re actually seeing, and let me explain. Besides, he doesn’t like it when his guests lose their marbles. It just makes him extra tense, and he’s already tense enough as it is.”
“Um, who is he?” I asked, refusing to leave the comfort of having my back pressed firmly against the wall. It at least gave me the illusion of personal safety, even though I knew full well that the key to my cell had to be in someone’s possession. “And where am I? And how are you talking?”
Looking down at myself and taking in my appearance for the first time since I woke up, I realized I was still in my Peace Lily Soap uniform—a gaudy Christmas sweater and a pair of tight-fitting khakis. My name tag was even still in place from my shift.
“Um, well, my name is Starlight,” the horse responded, choosing to ignore my frantic rapid-fire questions. “Starlight Dreams is my full name. Thank you so much for asking. Now, what is your name?”
My brow furrowed, and I could feel my expression flatten. This toy, thing, whatever the hell, was obviously not going to jump into giving me any information right away. I didn’t have much of a choice but to play along.
“I’m Holly. Hollis Nash is my full name,” I said, mimicking her own introduction. “But most everyone just calls me… Holly.”
“Holly! That is such a pretty name and so festive!” Starlight exclaimed with excitement, her expression peeling up into a joyful smile. “I bet you just love the Christmas season.”
“I guess,” I said, keeping a healthy level of suspicion about me. “Although I’ll admit my name has nothing to do with whether I do or don’t enjoy the holidays. And to be even more honest, I could frankly give a shit about the holidays when I’m sitting in a basement jail cell talking to a wooden horse.” I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Getting angry wasn’t going to give me any answers or solve any problems. “So please, I could really use an explanation.”
“Oh, sure. Yes. Definitely,” Starlight said, shaking her head and scattering her rainbow yarn mane about. “So, you’re probably wondering where you are.”
“You think?” I asked, unable to keep all of my frustration bottled up.
The horse stared back at me with a deadpan expression. “Anyway, if you’re done interrupting, I was just about to tell you.” She paused for a moment as if to test my ability to remain quiet. “So, I’m sure you’ve heard of the North Pole? All the Christmas magic and the elves and flying reindeer and the workshop and all? Well, I’m here to let you know that you’re in the South Pole, which is, as the name implies, the North Pole’s exact opposite.”
“Whoa, hold on,” I interrupted, catching a searing glance from Starlight. However, I couldn’t let her continue her explanation without being absolutely sure I understood what she was saying. “You’re telling me that the North Pole is a real place. I mean, of course it’s a real place, but it’s a real place like the stories talk about? I thought that was all make-believe.”
“Holly…” Starlight sighed, her painted eyes rolling upward like she couldn’t make sense of my disbelief. “You’re talking to a toy rocking horse, like, actually speaking to a toy. Made of wood. And you have to make sure the North Pole is a real place, just like the stories suggest? Listen to yourself. Look around you.”
She had a point. I guess in the situation I was in, I was forced to accept that, yes, I was talking to a toy, but she was right in front of me. The concept of the North Pole, Santa Claus, and the like still felt out of reach to what I was willing to accept as reality. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anyone—or anything—else offering me any information, so I had to just accept what she was telling me.
“I suppose you have a point,” I admitted, deciding that Starlight wasn’t enough of a threat to justify staying so backed away. I scooted myself toward the bars as a gesture of peace. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”
“You’re already forgiven,” the horse smiled, tossing her mane to the side. “Now, yes, you are in the South Pole, and the, um, he I was referring to? Well, he’s the exact opposite of Santa Claus.” Starlight’s wooden ears turned downward with a little creak, like speaking about this mysterious entity was enough to send a shiver through her. “He, um, he takes care of the Naughty List.”
I gulped hard, and it felt like I was swallowing a rock. That same rock landed directly in the pit of my stomach, making me feel off-balance and ill. My surroundings should have been enough to tell me that I was in danger, that I was doomed to face something terrible, but Starlight’s immediate kindness gave me a sliver of hope that it might not be the case. However, if Santa was just like the stories—kind, jolly, a symbol of all things warm and cozy and Christmastime fun—then what would be his opposite? I felt the blood fall from my face as my pulse thumped in my ears.
“What d-d-do you mean he takes care of the Naughty List?” I asked, hearing the fear quivering on my tongue. “What does that mean? What is he going to do?”
Starlight tried to force a smile, but her ears gave away the tension still seething through her painted body.
“I can’t tell you for certain,” she said quietly. “What I know is that the Christmas Spirit, who is actually not too bad when you get to know him but still obviously has a hand in these ordeals, brings someone from the Naughty List here every year. Right where you’re sitting now…” Her voice trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with going into any great detail.