The Ghoul of Christmas Past

feet hit the unsteady deck, causing the boat to lurch violently. It threw him backward and off the tiny vessel.
Landing on the shore with a hard bump, everyone got to hear him swear about his hip.
‘Ghoul!’ Ronald screamed to the ceiling. His shoulder was a ball of pain, yet he rejoiced. He knew he would have to injure himself before the rescuers came to free him. No one would believe it if he came out of the tragedy unscathed. Now he felt like his shoulder was broken but the old man was down and easy pickings.
Michael wasn’t going to be beaten so easily though. With a roar of defiance, he shoved the pain down and used the steel tube to help him back to his feet. The boat was continuing to move forcing him to limp after it.
‘Hurry, Michael!’ yelled Mary. ‘He’s going to blow out the floor and send us all into the basement!’ The shareholders were once again struggling against their bindings and gags, sensing that this might be their last chance for salvation. Mary saw Ronald wavering on the bow and tensed her muscles. She could charge at him with her head and knock him from the boat. That might help Michael, but she would then have to work out a way to save the others without using her hands.
Seeing the old man get to his feet, Ronald stepped from the boat. He was going to have to do this himself.
Mary cursed herself for hesitating for in the moment she made the decision to rise and charge at Ronald, he stepped onto the shore.
Now facing his opponent, Michael had to choose between using the steel tube to support his gimpy leg or manage on one leg and wield it as a weapon.
Then he saw a third option.
Ronald took a pace forward; he was going to kick the old man’s legs out and throw him into the river, when the explosion created a hole beneath the ride, a million gallons of water would flow out in seconds, carrying the old fool with it. However, Norton had no time to lose because the boat was about to draw level with the detonator. If he missed the timing, they would have to go all the way around again.
Michael limped two paces to a mannequin and there he plucked the sword from its hand. Now, with a mad expression on his face, he had the steel tube in his left hand to keep himself upright and a sword in his right. Ronald Norton could surrender or get skewered; it really would be his choice.
Ronald disagreed though, a smile spreading across his face as he looked beyond Michael and stepped back onto the boat.
Gripped by a sinking feeling, Michael spun around to find the ghoul bearing down on him. Most of its makeup was gone. The same thick white paste Michael found on his coat was what had been used to make the giant man look so ghoulish. It must have transferred to his coat when he was pushing through the bushes outside Richard Glaagard’s home. However, working that part out did nothing to change that Michael was about to die.
Weary, in pain, and feeling exhausted, Michael figured he had just one chance to win now and it would take perfect timing and the acceptance that he was going to have to suffer. He let the ghoul come, keeping his hands down and looking beaten – which wasn’t a stretch.
The ghoul didn’t have an angry leer on its face. It didn’t really display any emotion at all as it reached for Michael, but as the hands came to grab his head, Michael waited until the ghoul was right on top of him, then he let the steel tube go. He fell backward, raising the sword as he went.
In the boat, Ronald Norton was back in charge. This was his great moment. He got to watch the shareholders die, and with them any chance of resurrecting his dream for the theme park. But from the ashes of his fantasy would spring forth a new dream, one where he didn’t have to suffer such fools. He would become a literary sensation. He smiled at the helpless captives in the boat and slammed his hand on the detonator button as the boat drew level with it.
An almighty roar filled the air as out of sight around the next corner, the floor beneath the flume ride exploded. There was no smoke or flame, but the whole building shook and the air filled with vapourised water. The boat bucked as a wave pushed out by the energy of the explosion shunted them back several feet and Mary rose from her seat with her head down. Like a bull, she charged forward, her head her only weapon.
The ghoul had committed its bodyweight into the swing to grab Michael and finding nothing there, it overbalanced just as Michael expected. He was falling to the deck, bringing the sword around so it would jut upward like a spike the ghoul could not hope to avoid. Pain from Michael’s hip when he hit the floor made him grunt but he held the sword and watched as the ghoul fell on to it.
The tip dug into the ghoul’s chest right below his heart. It was a deathblow. Or it might have been if the cheap prop sword hadn’t snapped off at the handle the instant it was required to do some work.
The ghoul landed on top of Michael with a thud, shunting all the air from Michael’s lungs and making him feel like a sandwich on a panini press. That was when the shockwave from the explosion hit them. It seemed to terrify the ghoul who rolled to his side and away from Michael. A splash told Michael the ghoul was in the river, but if there were any advantage in that, Michael