It's December, which means it's finally here! The Christmas season is upon us, Santa is packing that sleigh, the reindeer are carb-loading ready for the big night, the elves are on the shelves, and those in the know are locking their kitchens up so the mogwais can't go on a post-midnight munch. I'm Kayleigh and I like Christmas just a little bit. On that note, there's no better time to enthuse (almost endlessly) about my favourite seasonal horror villain.
It can only be Charlie Manx from Joe Hill's N0S4A2 (or N0S4R2, depending on where you are in the world).
N0S4R2 is a spine-tingling novel of supernatural suspense from master of horror Joe Hill, the New York Times bestselling author of Heart-Shaped Box and Horns.
Victoria McQueen has a secret gift for finding things: a misplaced bracelet, a missing photograph, answers to unanswerable questions. On her Raleigh Tuff Burner bike, she makes her way to a rickety covered bridge that, within moments, takes her wherever she needs to go, whether it's across Massachusetts or across the country.
Charles Talent Manx has a way with children. He likes to take them for rides in his 1938 Rolls-Royce Wraith with the N0S4R2 vanity plate. With his old car, he can slip right out of the everyday world, and onto the hidden roads that transport them to an astonishing - and terrifying - playground of amusements he calls "Christmasland".
Then, one day, Vic goes looking for trouble - and finds Manx. That was a lifetime ago. Now Vic, the only kid to ever escape Manx's unmitigated evil, is all grown up and desperate to forget. But Charlie Manx never stopped thinking about Victoria McQueen. He's on the road again and he's picked up a new passenger: Vic's own son.
I think this is one hell of a great Christmas read. I read the hardback at home and got so invested I also listened to the audiobook when driving/cleaning/cooking, etc. I just never wanted to go a minute without being in the story. Vic is a great protagonist, and the premise was so spooky and fun, but man, that Charlie Manx is what got me hooked.
The best villains are always the ones that think they're doing the right thing. The thing about Manx is that I got the feeling that he thinks he is - at worst - a grey character, but he really isn't. This dude is as evil as they come. He "rescues" (kidnaps) children from homes that he believes are unfit, and whisks them off to Christmasland - a magical, frosted, snowglobe-worthy place, built of pure imagination. However, the cost for the kids who end up there is pretty high, and of course it's a nightmare for the loved-ones they leave behind.
Charlie is cunning, crafty, and apparently devoid of empathy unless he's dealing with kids, and even then his idea of "helping" is severely twisted. He's narcissistic and manipulative, and vengeful and cruel. He has a riveting back-story and sometimes his motivations have you nodding along with him, and then you remember he's awful. All of this would make for a compelling antagonist, but the thing that puts him over the edge for me is the way he perverts Christmas - the jolliest of holidays.
Promising children a never-ending festive wonderland is one thing, but actually creating it is another. What started as a safe place for one particular child turns into what he considers a haven for all the others, when actually it's a freezing, dark, lonely place with no care-givers. He thinks that tossing the spectacle of lights and candy canes at these kids should be fulfilling, but he constantly abandons them. He just steals them from their homes - places of neglect or abuse, he believes - and takes them to another place in which they'll be neglected. And they can never leave. They're the Lost Boys from Peter Pan, but without all the fun and frivolity.
On the outside world, for our hero Vic, Christmassy things become omens or PTSD triggers. Manx might have the excuse of not knowing the loneliness and neglect that his kids might come to associate with gingerbread men and tree ornaments, but he sure knows the effect that his Santa-fakery has on Vic.
Perhaps it's because I was fortunate enough to have a parent that put EVERYTHING she had into making Christmas a magical time for me as a kid. We didn't have rich people money for lavish gifts or anything, but she was thoughtful enough that I'd almost be throwing up with excitement the second I saw a glimpse of wrapping paper. I went nuts when I woke up on Christmas morning to find crumbs and an empty glass where I had left a glass of wine (my mum said Santa preferred wine) and a mince pie the night before. I can't even describe to you how I reacted when I noticed the carrot I'd left out for Rudolph was not just eaten, but the top had NIBBLY LITTLE TEETH MARKS ON IT. If that wasn't proof of Santa, nothing was.
My sweet, wonderful mum managed to convince us there were reindeer on the roof once - not sure how she did that, I think she got the next-door neighbour to bang around in his attic to emulate hooves. Even after I'd hit the age where all my friends were talking about the lie that is Santa, I refused to accept it. I still worshipped that jolly old dude for a couple of years after. I still get prickly at the mere suggestion that he's fictional.
I know that not everyone loves or celebrates Christmas, but for me, a villain that turns the entire holiday into a nightmare fuel is definitely one I love to hate.
Happy Holidays!
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