'Twas the night before Christmas, When all through the Site,

Not a single man stirred, Not during that night.

The chambers were locked and sealed with great care,

In hopes that their contents would stay just right there.

The crews sat at home and sung with great joy,

Content with their work, though a little annoyed.

And director at desk, and I with the T,

Had just settled our brains into a dreamworld's sea.

When throughout the whole site there arose a great clatter,

And in my sleepy daze, I ran to see what was the matter.

Away to the muster point I flew in a dash,

Away from the sirens, I ran like the Flash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Did nothing to illuminate the terror below.

As I ran and I ran from impending disaster,

I could do nought but think of moving much faster.

But try as I might, I only made it so far,

Before falling concrete gave me a lethal scar.

Dying beneath stone, St Nick beyond my sight,

I wondered what had unleashed this terrible blight.

Little did I know, there were those who went home,

When they were needed to stay here, in this zone.

Without them to stop the escaping disaster,

It easily broke free, its own sole master.

As my soul left me, bleeding and hollow,

I knew only fragments of what was to follow.

Unkillables, warlords, concepts most vague,

Upon the earth would wander these plagues.

Destruction, terror, anarchy and pain,

Suffering, loneliness, no hope to gain.

One by one, all across the globe,

Many unspeakable horrors took hold.

'Twas the night before Christmas, When all 'cross the world,

Every single man stirred, watching an end unfurl.

There were no Christmas miracles to save them that night;

The only miracle? It never reached my sight.