No one knows where he came from. No one knows why he came or why he does the things he does. All we know is that he Is, and that he has always Been.
There are some who say he came to us from a far planet, a planet of ice and snow. They say his alien nature gives him special powers and that the laws of time and space as we know them hold no meaning for him. He always appears wrapped in heavy furs to stave off our planet’s unwelcoming warmth.
There are some who say he is not from this Universe at all, that he somehow broke into our dimension from a gray space between worlds. He has a voracious appetite for food of all kinds for nourishment was previously unknown to him.
There are some who say he used to be a man. A man of boundless intellect and foolish curiosity, who immersed himself in occult studies and, through a pact with certain unholy parties, made himself like unto a God. The powers granted to him include dominion over the animal kingdom and a certain pliability of his physical form.
Wherever he is from, whatever he is, we live in fear of him. Not constant fear, but seasonal. For most of the year we carry on about our business, absorbed by our pitiful fleeting existence’s illusion of importance. As the days slip away and the night creeps in, though, we become more uneasy, more aware that time is marching swiftly towards the darkest season of all.
Then finally it is upon us. We festoon our houses in bright, garish decorations to scare him off. We build fearsome men of snow to fool him into thinking or huddling terrified families are protected. We purchase presents for each other in the hopes that he will see and know that he will not need to visit our homes to give us his dark corrupted gifts of horror and blood.
So wrap up warm and stay festive, my friends. For should you fall prey to humbuggery, then he may find you.
He knows when you are sleeping. He knows when you’re awake.
And he is coming to town.