The Meeting Hall of the Gods was a sight to behold. A vast, ornate space, filled with the tied-up deities of legend, each adorned with a festive Santa hat – except for Aphrodite, who was conspicuously bare-headed. At the center of it all stood Ophelia, the hybrid offspring of a siren and a wendigo, her icy blue eyes scanning the room with a smirk playing on her lips.
Ophelia’s gaze fell upon Aphrodite, who looked back at her with a mixture of fear and anger. Ophelia chuckled, her voice sharp and witty, “Aphrodite, my dear, I have a special surprise for you.” With a flourish, she pulled away a cloth, revealing a Christmas tree unlike any other. Decorated with the intestines of Aphrodite’s own children, Eros and Harmonia, it was a gruesome sight to behold.
Aphrodite screamed, struggling against her bonds, tears streaming down her face. Ophelia approached her, a crown of thorns in hand. “Merry Christmas, you cheating whore,” she sneered, placing the crown upon Aphrodite’s head.
Next, Ophelia turned her attention to the bound Zeus. She shoved a plastic tube into his mouth and grinned, “Zeus, you always cheat on your wife, Herra. Let’s see how you like it when rats go down your throat.” She released a cage of rats, which scurried up the plastic tube and into Zeus’ mouth. He gagged and struggled, but Ophelia held the tube in place. With a swift motion, she slit Zeus’ throat, letting the rats escape and the king of the gods die.
Ophelia stood over Zeus’ body, her white hair blowing in the breeze. She looked at the remaining gods, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “And that, my friends, is how a wendigo celebrates Christmas.”
The gods looked on in horror, unable to move or speak. Ophelia laughed and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you all go soon. But first, let’s enjoy the rest of the holiday.” She turned to Aphrodite and said, “And as for you, Aphrodite, you’ll be staying here with me. I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.”
Aphrodite sobbed and shook her head, but Ophelia just grinned and said, “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure it’s a Christmas you’ll never forget.”
Ophelia turned to the rest of the gods and said, “Now, who’s ready for some eggnog?” The gods looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Ophelia laughed and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t poison it. Much.”
Ophelia poured herself a cup of eggnog and raised it in the air. She said, “Merry Christmas, everyone. May your holidays be as festive as mine.” And with that, the hybrid goddess took a long, satisfying drink, her eyes gleaming with mischief and delight.
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