The St. Stephen�s Day Murders

The Christmas sisters were known throughout their small town of Killerarie. Dawn and Eve had dreaded the coming holiday season more than any two people the world over. It didn�t help that their parents had always seen fit to dress them in the color of the season, even when December 25 had long past.

Now that the years had past and they were grown with families of their own, it was their responsibility to entertain the family. It was not a task that either sister relished. Both sisters sat in the large kitchen, Dawn preparing the Christmas feast, while Eve downed another Tia Maria.

�Is it your goal to be bloody sloshed before everyone arrives this year?� Dawn asked.

The empty glass that sat on the table served as answer enough. The cup was filled quickly enough. Eve had not had the best of years. Her husband had left her for his much younger secretary, all in the stereotypical manner, leaving her with the care of her two young sons that were more than a bit hyperactive.

�Don�t you wish you could get rid of them all? I mean when do they bother with us except at Christmas? Never, I tell you. Yet here we are expected to welcome them in to our home and feed them our food, and the day after tomorrow, they�ll all be gone again for another 365 days. Wouldn�t it be lovely to just stick a little bit of cyanide in the turkey, and watch them all drop!�

Dawn�s laughter could be heard all throughout Killerarie. The more stable of the two, she still didn�t relish her holiday duties. Had it been up to her, the gathering would only be her sister and her two sons. Dawn�s own husband had died three years earlier of causes yet to be explained.

�Do you think mere cyanide would do those old harridans and bastards in? I say it�s not nearly strong enough.� Dawn went into the spice cabinet and seemed to be pondering a small container. �How tempting it would be to watch them all fall lifeless to the floor twitching!�

Dawn sprinkled some of the spice on the turkey, grinning secretly to herself. �Are you including your brood in with the rest of them, darling sister?�

It didn�t take Eve long to reply, even though the reply was slurred. �Of course. First thing tomorrow morning they�ll be out chasing some poor little wren around, until it expires! All for holiday tradition! A tradition that their father taught them! Some father! He certainly doesn�t care much for family now that he has his little piece tucked away in London.�

The voices in the large dining hall grew louder and louder. More of the family had just arrived. The sound of Eve�s two sons tormenting their young cousins could be heard as the trampling of their feet beat an offbeat tattoo on the floor.

As the drink took hold of Eve she became more helpful in the kitchen, adding her own spices to the holiday feast. This would truly be dinner that everyone would remember. It very well may be the last one that they ever shared.

Winking in conspiracy with her sister, they began to take the trays of food into the hall. Uncles and Aunts kissed their cheeks and remarked how lovely they looked in their festive costumes. All the faces blurred together as the beer and whiskey began to be poured. The family seemed not to notice that not a morsel passed through the sisters pursed lips as the day went on.

�Ah little Evey still looking so pretty in her red and green. Come give us a kiss child.�

Uncle Albert�s drunken face loomed close to her own. The sight of that red pork chop shaped head drawing closer to her filled her with revulsion, and she quickly pulled back. The scent of more than just whiskey laced his breath. Quickly lifting a tray of appetizers, she thrust them in his face.

�Dawn made these yummy rolls, have one Uncle, I�m sure you�ll love it!�

As she turned away in escape she heard her sister squeal out, �Uncle Marcus, your tie! It�s in the punch bowl.�

It seemed the whole room snickered. No one was near drunk enough to comment on the huge ugly fish shaped tie that he wore. It was obviously a gift from one of his two irrepressible children. His daughters stampeded through the room, followed closely behind by her own two boys and the family dog.

How odd that the goodwill should only last long enough to exchange gifts and devour every tiny bit of food. It was remarkable how much food these people could consume. Perhaps they would explode before the special ingredients in the food took effect.

Pouring herself another tia maria she sat down at the table in the kitchen. The huge roasting pan sat in front of her, filled with the remains of the holiday turkey. For a brief second she thought she heard it gobble in anger at her. Spilling her drink she rushed back into the hall with the family.

�There you are Eve. I believe our little feast has been a great success.�

Both sister turned to see the many slumped bodies lying about the room. With an evil grin the two sisters muttered.

�We�ve finally got rid of them!�

It was their answer to the killing of the wrens�In the St. Stephen�s Day Murders��The Tia Marias flowed all through the night and into the feast of St. Stephen. This year though, not a wren was harmed by a child of Christmas.