Simon Banks walked towards Hargove Hall, his son,
Daryl, at his
side. The two were meeting with Blair to discuss college options.
A young
lady sat at the edge of the fountain, a well-worn backpack at her
feet. She
was staring at the water, singing to herself.
As they got closer, Simon smiled as he heard
the familiar tune of
Silver Bells. But, he blanched as her words finally registered:
~Burning balls. Burning balls.
It's torture time in the dungeons.
Ring-a-ling. Hear them scream.
Soon we will know all we need.~
Simon quickened his pace, hoping Daryl wouldn't
comment. Part of
his mind was horrified at the lyrics, while another, more analytical
part of
his brain recognized that the girl didn't seem aware of their presence.
Her
voice was low, but the snow amplified the sound and carried the
song further
than she probably intended.
~Light a pyre. Build it higher
Till they blister and bleed.
Watch their faces as they all turn
green.~
Simon winced at the huge smile on his son's face.
"Cool. Hey, dad,
think Blair will lend me some paper so I can write down those lyrics?
My
group will think it's the bomb!"
'ARRHHH!! Joan will have a fit!'
Simon tried for the reasonable
approach. "I don't think..." But Daryl was already humming,
snatches of
the "new" song passing his lips.
Turning, he noticed that the student had picked
up her backpack and
was making her way across the square. "Merry Christmas," Simon
thought to
himself, despairingly.