CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - 2+ Hours of CHILLING Christmas Horror Stories to relax to while unwrapping your new PS5 I hope

Episode Date: December 25, 2021

CHRISTMAS CREEPYPASTA STORIES-►0:00 "A Christmas WARNING" Creepypasta►20:49 "There's something different about my local Santa" Creepypasta►46:10 "All I Want For Christmas..." Creepypasta►59:50 "How to hunt an animatronic Santa" Creepypasta►1:43:32 "Creatures Disguised as Snowmen are Taking Over My Neighbourhood" Creepypasta►2:01:16 "The Christmas Krampus" CreepypastaCreepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO-SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd...iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast...CREEPY THUMBNAIL ART BY►Panchenko Andrey: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/zO...SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS-►"Good Places to Start"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g7YCb...►"Personal Favourites"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEa2R...►"Written by me"- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gX6RA...►"Long Stories"- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...FOLLOW ME ON-►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPastaCREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪-This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only-

This weekend, I'm from waiting, and all moose, I'm new as I'm not on think. Oh, that dossier that morning off must be more

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can't make-shot liquid. Fooding supplement forcry-bar by the apotheker. I don't hide the fact that I hate Christmas. Call me a proverbial scrooge, insult me to no end. But every year, I feel dread greater than anyone who hates the holiday season could ever claim. If you know me personally, you'd assume it's because of my younger brother's disappearance, and you'll be right for the most part.

It happened one Christmas morning, when, by all rights, the two of us should have been sitting by a tree, opening presents, and making treasured childhood memories. Instead, I was treated with a day of police, frantically searching our house and neighbourhood, while questioning my distraught parents. They questioned me too, of course. But, as a ten-year-old, I didn't have much to say.

I told them that he and I gone to bed, excited for what the next day had in store for us, and that was the last I saw of him. He just never came down to open his gifts, and that's when my mother discovered his room was empty, but that was a lie. I do know what happened to Chris. I know who took him away.

And I know that if I told the truth, no one would believe me. Then or now. Santa kidnapped my brother. Please don't laugh. I know how it sounds. And you're right. It sounds ridiculous.

He can't be real. And even if he was, he's supposed to be nice to children. But, I know what I saw, and it wasn't some lunatic in a Santa suit either. That man was as real as a winter wind that chills you down to the bone. I suppose I should start by telling you how all this started. Before the holiday was ruined for my family,

at Christmas Eve, we all left out cookies for Santa, talked about what we'd hoped he would bring, and then our parents read the night before Christmas to my brother and I, all of them cheerful Monday in traditions for our family. What was different that final year was I was noticeably less enthusiastic about the whole process It was the first year I'd openly stopped believing in Santa Claus I was a strange and cynical child

Much to the concern of my parents To tell you the truth Until that fateful night I'd never really been a believer in Santa Claus I mostly just played along to please adults But that year I was tired of all the acting That's one of the many ways we differed so much, my brother and I. You see, Chris was a young, energetic and curious boy.

I remember the year he was taken was also the one where he found out where our parents was hiding our unwrapped gifts weeks ahead of time. He refused to tell his own big sister what she was going to be getting, though. Figures, I guess. More importantly, however, being three years younger than me, he was still very much a believer. My flat denials of the existence of Santa Claus only served as a challenge to him, and he was determined to prove otherwise. We were heading up the stairs to bed when he got my attention.

Stay up with me, he said as he tugged at my pyjama sleeve. I'll show you he's real. We'll catch him in the act. I bet we'll be the first ones to have ever done it, and I'm sure he'll give us all kinds of stuff when we do. I sighed. I'd rather just get some sleep, Chris, I told him. You can go on believing if you want, but I don't have to just have a good Christmas. I always try to avoid being a damper on his spirit,

and I thought convincing him to forget his hairbrain schemes would be better than waiting up half the night just to see his disappointment. Oh, come on, he cried. Do I always have to make you have fun? If it weren't for me, you'd be boring, just like Mrs. Henderson. I must have made a disgusted face because Chris laughed, gave a mischievous grin and said, Well, what are going to be, Mrs. Henderson?

Are we going to catch Santa in the act or not? Mrs. Henderson was my fourth grade teacher, and I despised the old crone with a passion. Chris knew how to push my buttons. All right, short stuff, you're on, I said with more provider than I actually felt. First of all asleep has to wait till New Year's to open their gift from Santa. Chris's eyes flashed with excitement at the wager.

I'll take that bet. So we went to our room, wait for our parents turned to go to bed. After the lights downstairs went out, I waited about half an hour just to make sure they were asleep, and I crept out of my bed and sneaked my way downstairs.

I saw that there was a light on in the living room. Chris was sitting casually near the fireplace. What took you so long? He said, always the confident one. I waited for Mom and Dad to get to sleep, idiot, I replied. They're not going to be too happy if they find us here. With an unceremonious plop, I sat down on the couch directly in front of the fireplace. So, how do you expect to stay up the entire night? I asked.

I imagine I'll figure it out, Chris said. I'm not sure how long we waited there for the so-called St. Nick to appear. But Chris looked almost ready to doze off. We were shocked away by something. There must have been large and heavy hitting the roof. After a short pause there was a sound of shuffling and the scraping of feet. I was sure I heard the ringing of little bells. Oh man, Chris whispered in awe. It's really him.

For a moment I wondered why mum and dad weren't awoken by any of this. All the racket was enough to wake the dead, but the train of thought stopped when the chimney shut started sprinkling down into the fireplace. Chris dashed over to me and shook my shoulders. What did I tell you? He's real. It's real. Unlike Chris, I didn't think there was any supernatural explanation behind this strange occurrence.

I was convinced there was a burglar trying to find their way in through unconventional means. I sat stiffly, staring at the fireplace for a few moments, unsure of what to do, until I rose and dived underneath the couch to hide. What are you doing? Chris cried in bewilderment. He's coming. Get down, I whispered fiercely at him. we don't know who that really is.

Chris opened his mouth to protest, but a voice let out a grunt from the chimney, and it spooked him enough to find a spot of his own. He hid behind Dad's large leather lounge chair in the corner. A few moments later, a final, loud thump came, and the front of our fireplace was obscured by all the sot rushing out into the air. I covered my mouth and nose desperately to prevent myself from coughing.

when it finally settled the sight gave my cynical mind a serious shock the old man that stood before me really was someone dressed as Santa Claus and he looked every inch the part his body was the perfect size he had a long white beard

and his outfit was a beautifully made red jacket and pants his face contained the soft loving features of an old man enjoying the moment what surprised me the most about this strange man was even though he had just entered through a musty chimney, there wasn't a speck of sut on him. It was almost as if anything that could mar his perfect appearance was naturally repelled.

I was finally convinced he was the real deal by what came next. Throwing a sack of presents over his shoulder, Santa stepped away from the fireplace and a short elf girl emerged to follow him. The elf had pointed ears, a glistening green suit, and was so short she only came up to Santa's knee. Unlike the jolly old man She seemed terrified to take a single step into our home She looked all around

As if there was some terrible threat in the room And seemed only slightly relieved When she mistakenly thought it was empty Santa noticed the fear But rather than reassure her As would be expected For a fraction of a second His kind face changed into a look of pure

horrifying malice It was like the kind old man had been replaced by an insane, merciless master, only to return a nanosecond later. The elf's mood changed on a dime. In short order, she was filling our stockings with small toys and candy, with a smile plastered onto her face that seemed ready to crack at any moment. Being so short, she had to use some kind of magic to levitate, so she could get within reach. With purposeful, yet quiet footsteps, Santa made his way to our tree. taking two presents from his bag.

He placed them in the proper spot and went to where we had left his traditional snack. The elf was done with her job too, but Santa wasn't inclined to share with his companion. Now that she was towing the line, he barely even acknowledged her presence. She just stood there next to him, waiting for him to finish, wringing her hand in nervous movements. On its face, this whole scene was like something ripped straight. out of a Christmas television special. But even at my young age,

I could tell that something more was going on. What I'm trying to say is it seemed like they were attempting to appear whimsical for whimsies' sake, like it was all one big act they were putting on. The little elf barely passed as a convincing actress, and Santa's momentary lapse only cemented my suspicions. It was something I was unable to articulate fully at the time,

but I can now. It looked like a ruse. Chris fell for it right away though. He must have been too young to notice the sinister signs that I had been able to pick up on. From my angle on the floor, I could see him clearly in his own hiding spot.

The look on his face told me everything I needed to know. He was completely enamoured with these two people. To my horror, he slowly crept out from behind the chair. I wanted to call out to him to tell him to stay right where he was that these two were strangers, that there was no way to tell

what would happen once they knew, knew we were there. But that would have given us both away. It's not like he wouldn't have listened to me either. How many kids out there can't help but trust Santa Claus? Wow, he whispered to our bizarre intruders. It's really you.

At this, both Santa and his elf turned to find Chris standing in the middle of the room. Both had this faux expression of surprise that only served to unsettle me further. Waiting up for us, I see, Santa commented with a warm smile. Yeah, Chris said cheerfully, I wanted to prove that you are really real and everything. And it seems you have, Santa replied with a chuckle. He sat down in my father's chair and motion. to Chris to sit with him, to which he obliged.

Oh man, I've got so many questions, Chris exclaimed. Are there reindeer on the roof? Can I see them? What's it like living on the North Pole? Oh, I wish I could see it someday. All in good time, Santa said, grinning at his remark. Maybe to some it would have looked like a friendly expression, but to me it was a smile that seemed to contain the self-satisfaction of winning. a game. As for the elf, she had lost all colour on her face. She made no move whatsoever as the two sat together. But her expression was enough to tell me that something horrible was about to happen. I knew you were real, I just knew it, Chris said. And all the big kids at school give us such a hard

time about it. Even sis was losing it too. Just wait until everyone hears about this. Oh, they won't, Chris, Santa said. clasping his gloved hand over my brother's shoulder. Huh? Why not? he asked, confused. Do I have to keep it a secret? Santa laughed at deep, evil laugh. I was too much unlike his fabled, ho, ho, ho. Do you honestly think that you've been the only one to ever see me?

That throughout history, the many little children of the world haven't done the same as you? Chris shifted uncomfortably in the man's lap. I guess not. You see, Chris, Santa began. Children are not to be trusted. They're the ignorant, greedy and selfish offspring of humans. A greedy and selfish race to begin with. Over the years, I've been able to sustain myself on these human qualities.

And humans have happily whitewashed my persona in order to satiate their desires without guilt. It's the perfect season for it. Don't you agree, my dear boy? The excitement in Chris's face was all but gone. He was finally starting to get it. The children who seek me out always want something, Santa said.

More meaningless possessions, satisfaction of curiosity, or simple proof are only a few examples. However, there is always a price to be paid. for breaking the rules and finding something that is not meant to be found. Throughout this conversation, the elf began to gather the gifts they had brought with a hint of reluctance. She even managed to make the cookies Santa 8 magically reappear.

She was ridding the house of any evidence of their presence. Santa's hand squeezed Chris's shoulder tightly. I'm always looking for more helpers, he continued. Children who have seen me, who have seen me, who go. could never keep such a secret are the perfect candidates. My brother's face turned into an expression of absolute fear. He now realized his fatal error. You are not the first, he said.

You certainly won't be the last. Turning to his elf, Santa barked out of command. Annabelle, his time. Change him now. No, but please, the elf stammered. "'Please don't make me.' Santa gave her a cruel look of disdain and waved his hand toward her in an odd way.

I was horrified to see the elf suddenly start clawing frantically at her face, digging her nails into her own skin. She screeched in pain, unable to stop harming herself. Santa waved his hand again, releasing her from a torture. Her face was now covered in scratches and dripping with blood. Chris screamed and dove off Sam. Santa's lap, trying to rush out of the room, but the old man made another strange wave with his hand and Chris stopped in his tracks. As if possessed, my brother turned around to face him, his eyes wide with fear.

He was under that awful man's control. Don't you see it? It's too late for you now, he said triumphantly. Except your fate. With a smug grin, Santa looked down to his companion. I should really start having you all wear red, he said in a mocking tone. At least then, the blood wouldn't show so much. Are you going to do as you're told now, Annabelle, or do I have to think of something worse for you?

The elf let out a heavy sob and looked up to my terrified brother. I'm sorry, she said in a sad, high-pitched voice. From where I was, I could see her tears mingling with blood, as she took. a little silver wand hidden in the fold of her clothes. She pointed it directly at my brother, and, in a blinding flash, filled the room. It took some time for my sight to recover, but when it did, I saw the Chris I knew disappearing before me.

His whole body looked like it was melting before my eyes, unnecessary flesh falling away and reshaping itself. When the transformation was over, he was shorter and squatter. His ears came out to sharp points. His nose was round and flush, as if he had been out in the cold. Even his clothes had changed to a uniform similar to Santa's companion. Only read this time.

His new elf appearance was a caricature of his former self. He must have been so scared, looking down at his new form. He could only let out a pitiful squeak. So was I, as I lay frozen underneath the couch, clutching the carpet. As that awful, obese man and strange crying elf dragged my newly turned brother into our fireplace, Chris looked down and stared directly at me, his expression a desperate cry for help. But what could I do? How could I fight off two magical beings without getting myself into the same horrible situation?

So, I did nothing. I still have nightmares about that. With Chris and Toe They shot up the chimney All together through their strange magic And that was the last I ever saw of my little brother For almost the entire night

I stayed under the couch Softly crying In my state of shock I had no strength to do much else But as I saw the sun Slowly rise from the windows I knew it was safe to crawl out of my hiding place And find my way back to my room

The rest, I guess, is history. To this day, I won't have anything to do with this terrible holiday. I don't decorate, I don't give out gifts, I don't go to parties, I won't even live in a house with a chimney or fireplace. Hell, I even refuse to visit houses with one this time of year. Don't get me started about the mall or street corner centres. I just keep to my apartment as much as I can. In my paranoia, I really must turn into a cheerless shutting a month out of the year

because I know that somewhere in the world there will be more unlucky children going missing. I still don't know why I didn't meet the same fate as my brother. As he never told his captors that I was there too, could he really keep a secret for that long? Could they somehow pry the truth out of him? Every year since that night I've been terrified that they'll finally come for me

Perhaps what keeps me safe is the fact that I've stayed quiet all these years Never telling anyone what really happened I can only assume that Chris has done the same Anyone out there must be wondering Why I'd say anything about it now To be honest I want to Because

I'm not sure what that fat guy would do to me I mean, there's no way he could turn a fully grown adult into an elf, right? But most of all, I want to know what's become of Chris. It hurts to think what could have happened to him over all these years, and I need to find out. Maybe if I share my story with the world, somebody out there would give me some answers. Maybe there's some way I could help him. I'm willing to take the risk.

I just hope all the disturbing possibilities I've imagined won't come to pass. Christmas Eve is coming. Wish me luck. I'm writing this as a warning to everybody. Don't trust downtown Santa. You know the guy I'm talking about. He's walking around right now. Wearing a grubby old beard, there's no longer snowy white in colour, but a dirty grey shade.

His red pants are scuffed and his boots are dark. dirty from stepping in dog turds as he roams the streets aimlessly. Always downtown. I knew the moment I saw him that he wasn't the real Santa Claus. Despite the heavy-looking back he carried on his shoulder and the red hat lined with white fur sitting atop his head. Still, he saw me right away and came stomping over to us from across the town square. Oh no, he saw us, I heard my mom mutter, grabbing my shoulder protectively.

We should go. My dad shook his head, looking only slightly less worried than my mom. No, that'll make it worse. He'll probably cause a scene. Let's just get this over with. My mother looked horrified. Her eyes had gone wide, and she was staring at my dad as if he was losing his mind. Over my dead body, she whispered furiously under a breath to him.

But eventually relented as downtown Santa came within earshot. He strode over towards us with big, bounding steps and laughed merrily. Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas. What do we have here? What's your name, little boy? He asked with good-natured cheer. I wondered if maybe he wasn't so bad after all. Despite his appearance and my parents' obvious concern,

he seemed decent enough. Maybe just a little grubby. Jacob, I said back to him. Well, Jacob, have you been a good boy this year? I think so. I got good grades. I helped my friend with his homework yesterday, and I always... Well, I usually clean the cat's litter box in time every week when it's my turn.

At this point, I still thought it was really Santa, or maybe one of his representatives. So I didn't want to lie to him. But I'd find out later, he was doing way worse stuff than lying. way worse. My parents sounded like they were holding their breath behind me, and I could feel my mom's grip on my shoulder getting tighter and tighter. Oh, ho, ho, ho. Well, that sounds like a good boy to me.

And what did you want for Christmas this year? If you could have anything in the world, what would it be? I thought about this for a few moments, then decided. If there was one thing I wanted, it was a new video, game system, the one my parents said was too expensive. A PS5, I told him, and he chuckled. My, that's a popular one this year. All right, well, I'll have to see if the elves can make up another one before Christmas.

You'll be extra good boy, and we'll see what we can do, okay? I thanked him politely, and he patted me twice on top of my head, as if I are a dog, then handed me a candy cane wrapped in Salafane Merry Christmas he said looking at my parents now instead of me

His voice had changed and become hard and flat Ha ha Merry Christmas My dad said to him awkwardly Thanks My mom snatched a candy cane

From my hand as soon as downtown Santa Walked away I couldn't help but feel disappointed Not about the candy cane Those were plenty of for this time of year. Downtown Santa had basically just told me I wouldn't get a PS5. When people said, I'll have to see.

That always meant no. I was a kid and even I knew that. When we got home an hour later, my parents got into an argument. It sounded like my mom was mad at my dad for letting me talk to downtown Santa. She had wanted us to run away from him in the opposite direction. There was whispering and I heard her say something about what happened last year, but I had no idea what that meant. They argued for the rest of the night and I stayed in my room only emerging for dinner,

which consisted of Katie Mac and Cheese and Hostel Stairs back and forth across the table. I was afraid to say a word, feeling like it was somehow my fault they were arguing with each other. The next day my parents still weren't talking. and neither one of them was going to make the ritual's Sunday morning pancakes, I could tell. So I made myself a disappointing breakfast of Reese Puff's cereal and milk. Then I told my parents I was going to play with some friends for a while. Neither one of them seemed to hear me. I met my two friends, Ryan and Brad, and we took a walk downtown,

looking for places that were given out free samples. Weekends were always good for that, especially around Christmas. and we knew all the hot spots. In December, our town's little shops were doing anything they could to try and get people in the doors, so employees were out front on the sidewalk in places, giving out free apple cider and food samples, bundled up in coats in the cold weather.

There was a carousel set up temporarily in the town square, horse-drawn carriage rides and a myriad of other activities which were happening throughout the month, especially on weekends. After scarring all of the low, local stores for free stuff. We sat in the town square debating what to do. The carriage rides were fine, but we'd done that before. Same with a carousel. None of us mentioned these activities because they seemed a bit lame, since they were meant for little kids and families.

Then I saw him again. Downtown Santa. He was talking to a little kid with a pair of nervous-looking parents once again standing behind them, looking watchful and worried. Hey guys, you see that Santa? Yeah, said Ryan. What's the deal with him? My parents were freaked out yesterday when he came over to talk to us, then they argued about it all night. And look at that kid's parents.

Don't they look scared just being close to him? The mother pulled a child closer, edging away ever so slightly as she tried to bring the interaction to an end. Downtown Santa was having none of that, though. He was still in lively, animated conversation with the child, pulling the child's arm and digging in his pockets for a fresh candy cane. Hmm, yeah, I guess that is weird. Huh, really? You guys don't know about downtown Santa?

Fred asked, chuckling at us like we were stupid. Ryan and I looked at each other, and I felt my face getting hot with embarrassment. Um, no. I don't think so. Maybe I did and just forgot, I said. What's the deal with him again? Brad just kept laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.

He could be a bit of a dick when he had a piece of information like that. He loved being in control of a bit of juicy info and dangling it in front of your face while you begged for it. And then half the time he was just buying time so he could make it some bald-faced lie. It was always hard to tell whether he was being honest or not. I don't know, guys. I'm not sure you're old enough to hear this story.

You're only a year old than us, Brad. Shut the hell up already and tell us. Finally, after a few more minutes of this, he relented. Okay, okay. So you guys know how there's the real Santa and then there's his representatives, right? The guys who go around to malls and everything. Yeah, so what about it? I asked, eager to hear what he had to say.

Well, apparently, he used to be a shopping mall centre, over at the Western Mall, but then kids started going missing and the police started connecting it to him. They even arrested the guy. It was in the newspaper and everything. My parents tried to hide it from me, but I found the old paper in the recycling bin and asked my older brother about it. They told me not to tell you guys, since you're so immature. You wouldn't be able to handle finding out that you sat on the lap of a serial killer. But they never proved anything.

he lost his job, his house, all that. Now he lives on the street, and they say the only clothes he still has are his Santa clothes. That's why you only seem out this time of year. Ryan and I were dumbfounded. We'd never heard any of that before. But it certainly explained my mom's concern, if it was true. The more I thought about it, the more I started to convince myself, Brad, made it up. Things like that didn't happen in small towns.

like ours. I knew my parents would have told me something like that, if only to keep me safe. Plus, Brad was a big, fat liar. Brad went home a little while later, and Ryan and I were left by ourselves. Downtown Santa was still roaming the town square, and we were watching him suspiciously from a distance away. Do you think Brad's full of crap? Ryan asked me. Probably, I mean about the murdering kids, part. Brad's always trying to mess with us, but I bet he's right about one thing. This guy for sure was a former mall, Santa, judging by the way he talks. And I think I actually remember him now

from last year, over at the Western Mall, just like Brad said. Hmm, I wonder if he still got any connections to the big guy. I hadn't thought of that. He had been asking kids what they wanted for Christmas. Maybe he still had some secret line to Santa that he could use to send information. why else would you be asking kids what they wanted and giving out candy canes. That would be cool, like a big red phone with a Rudolph nose on it, that lights up when Santa calls from the North Pole. I wonder if he's really got something like that. A top secret hotline to Santa Claus.

Can you imagine? We could actually try to convince him to give us PS5s this year, rather than just getting the run around again. We could plead our case to him personally. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Ryan asked, shaking me with both hands, excitedly by their shoulders. Yes, let's follow him, I said quietly. We'll tell him back to his place.

Then we'll use his Santa phone to talk to the big man, make our case for a PS5. Then we get out before he notices us. It was foolproof. At least, we thought so. The two of us waited and watched downtown Santa from a distance, keeping an eye on him constantly as he went from kid to kid and family to family. Each time he provoked the same reaction, wonderment from the children, terror and suspicion from the adults.

Regardless, we'd made up our minds about what we were going to do. The idea of getting the PS-Vice we'd been drooling over for the longest time probably made our judgment a bit cloudy. We decided we would even settle for just one that the two of us would share if it came down to it. So we sat, watching and waiting. My ass first became uncomfortably cold from sitting on the bench, so I stood up and paced. Then my face started to feel numb and my toes, and finally my fingers as I dug them into my pockets, trying to warm them up.

My extremities prickled and tingled with pins and needles as they became more and more painful the longer we sat there. Man, it's never going to leave. This guy's committed, Ryan said as the downtown Santa marched across the town. square for the onteenth time to greet another family. He hadn't bothered to come over to us, though, I noticed. Maybe he just recognized me from the other day, I thought to myself. Finally, I saw a police officer come by, and the fake Santa's eyes went a bit wide and nervous at the sight of her. The cop marched right over to downtown Santa and told him something, and they argued back and

forth for a minute or two. He wasn't happy with whatever she had to tell him. That did it though. He started walking away, heading towards the warehouse section of town. Ryan and I followed after him, hurrying so we wouldn't lose him. The two of us chased him, hiding behind trees and signs and boulders along the way, whatever we could find so that he didn't spot us. It was starting to get late in the afternoon, when he finally stopped at an old abandoned warehouse near the edge of town, looking around, then lifting up a flap of rusty corrugated tin to enter the place. On the other side of the building was a forest, and there was a quiet, rarely traveled road nearby, which led out of town and into the country.

Nobody was around, and it was very quiet as we walked up to the building, our footsteps crunching in the gravel. as we approached the door to go inside, I started the second-guess our plan. Are you sure about this, Ryan? What if Brad was right? What if he really is a killer? Man, that's a load of bull.

I bet Brad can't even read a newspaper. And besides, our parents would tell us if there's a killer walking around in a Santa suit and he wouldn't be allowed to hand out candy canes in the town square. That's for sure. I half agreed with him. but then thoughts about the cop kicking him out of the area and the distrustful glares of the parents with their kids and my mum's hand on my shoulder the day before

squeezing tighter and tighter until it hurt as if she didn't even notice she was doing it I open my mouth to say something else but Ryan was already slipping in beneath the piece of Rusty Tin following him I started to feel the beat of my heart picking up speed pounding faster and faster in my chest. Neither of us said anything as we snuck into the warehouse, sticking to the shadows and following the sound of movement ahead.

As we entered a large open space, I saw there were shelves along the walls and down the centre of the huge room, separating it into large aisles. Moving along behind the boxes stacked up on a shelf, we got closer so that we were 20 feet or so away from downtown Sandstone. where he stood at a table covered in junk, surrounded by racks of boxes in the centre aisle of the warehouse. He was muttering something quietly under his breath, and I struggled to make out the words.

I noticed he was also organising a great number of keys. They were scattered all over his table where he was standing, sorting through them. Dozens of keys, maybe hundreds of them. They all look like the house keys my parents used. used to open our front door. Copper, silver and golden colour. They were all different shapes and sizes.

What took you so long? A man asked from where he had been hidden a few feet away. He had the voice like a hyena, high-pitched and laughing, even when nothing was funny. He was thin and muscular, tanned with broken bones

and mean eyes. His arms and chest were covered in tattoos, and he sat with a laptop computer in a recliner that looked like the one my dad owned, but even older and covered with even more holes. Unlike you, I had to actually talk to the cop. You just got to run away, same as last time. It's my face out there everybody sees all day long. That's why I told you, I'm taking 60%. I don't care if you don't like it. The hyena-sounding man, who I had begun to think of as Santa's elf, stood up and the laptop crashed to the floor with a bang.

Cords was standing out on his neck as he raised a tattoo-covered fist and stuck out a finger, pointing it at downtown Santa. You're just a distraction. If anybody should be getting more, it's me. What you do takes no skill, nothing. I'm the one who has to lift the damn keys, while you ask little Jimmy what he wants for Christmas. It's my van, my gun, my job.

Just be happy I'm giving you 40%. It should be 30 after this. Oh, you're going to make it 30 now, you piece of... The next thing we heard was a scuffle as a two men began to fight between themselves. Then suddenly, one of the boxes on the shelf beside us went flying, and we jumped back to see downtown Santa had been thrown through the shelf and was now the aisle we were hiding in. The boxes in between us and them had been empty, providing us no real protection whatsoever.

Hey, there's kids over here. Lem, grab the gun. Neither of us liked the sound of that, and we got up and tried to run away, but found he had a firm hold of us both. The tall, red-suited man picked us both up like puppies and lifted us up by the backs of our coats. He was stronger than he looked, and definitely not old like Santa. Don't use my name, you idiot! The other man came around with a gun pointed at us. Downtown Santa was holding us both up by the backs of our coats as we struggled, but eventually relented, seeing the gun.

What the hell are you kids doing in here? Hey, you're the kid from downtown. They must have followed us here. We both stared, bawling, and asking them to let us go, and downtown Santa reluctantly led us to the ground, still holding us both firmly in place. What did you see, little boys? You want to be good for Santa, don't you?

He asked. His grey beard in my face, smelling like ash and stale cigarettes. smoke. Nothing. I swear. We didn't see anything. Please, let us go. We won't say anything. The tattooed man came over with a gun and pointed it at us. My heart was hammering in my ears, and I barely heard what he said with how afraid I felt. He said it again, and I did what he asked. Give me your wallet. Your little freaks got wallets, IDs. We handed them over. Ryan had gotten a leather wallet the year before for Christmas and I'd asked for one for my birthday.

It had my health card in it and my library card, a bank card and some loyalty cards and things like that. Ryan's wallet was about the same. After looking through them both, the tattooed man smiled. He nodded at downtown Santa. You boys have keys for your houses, don't you? To get inside when your parents aren't home, I was too terrified to lie about it. I handed him my only key which opened the front door of my house.

Ryan did the same. All right, now you two be good boys and run home. You tell anybody who saw Santa and his elf here. Well, you'll be in big trouble, said downtown Santa. But if you keep it a secret, you might just get that present you asked for. What was it again? A PS5? And you wanted one too, didn't you, Ryan?

We nodded our heads and they pocketed our keys and he took pictures of the contents of our wallets. So don't tell your parents, got it? Santa can see you while you're sleeping and he knows when you're awake. Not only that, he knows if you snitch on him, understand. So keep your mouth shut. You don't tell your friends, your brothers, sisters, nothing. You don't say a word about this to anyone. You take it to your graves or else St. Nick will send jack.

frost for you while you're sleeping, to put you on ice. Get it. Again, we told him we understood, and I tried to contain the contents of my bladder as I waited for him to dismiss us. Eventually, he did. The elf waved his gun at us and ushered us out of the warehouse, handing us two candy canes on the way out of the door. Merry Christmas, he said, slamming it shut loudly behind us. we made a pact between the two of us, not to say anything to our parents, or to anyone else for that matter. We kept it between the two of us. At least I did. Ryan told his parents the truth, at least about what he'd seen.

He left me out of it, though, not mentioning that I was there with him. He told me later that he didn't want to involve me, since it was his decision to go against what downtown Santa had told us. The police raided the warehouse the day before Christmas Eve and found only the tattooed elf man who had been with downtown Santa. The man who had threatened us with a gun was arrested, but his partner in crime wasn't found. None of the keys were recovered either. All of them were mysteriously missing.

That Christmas morning, I awoke and ran out to the living room with excitement, happy to find a big new present under the tree which had not been there the night before. My parents saw it as well, and my mom clutched my dad tightly. After a minute of debate, my dad approached it and lifted up the gift tag, reading it as if it were attached to the toe of a dead body at the morgue rather than a present. It says it's for Jacob, from Santa. Can I open it? I asked. Maybe it's my P.S. 5.

The tag says for being a good boy and keeping your promise. What does that mean, Jacob? Do you know anything about this? That was when it hit me. It wasn't a gift from the real Santa. It was from the other one, the one who would threaten us. I had completely forgotten his promise. I hadn't even consider the fact that he might follow through on that part of it.

Sorry, son. I think I should at least take a look first. We don't know where this came from. I didn't object. In fact, I was more than a little concerned as he began to tear out the seams of the gift. He peeled back the wrapping paper slightly. Slowly, he tore the paper off

further and further, his hand shaking. Beneath the festive Santa print wrapping paper was a large, plain brown cardboard box. Unsealing the top with a box cutter, my dad opened it up. Huh? he said. I'll be down. It actually is a PS5.

I guess it's for you, Jacob, but I don't know where this came from. Do you, Marie? My mom shook ahead, looking nervous but slightly hopeful. They'd wanted to buy me the gaming system. I knew that much, but they just hadn't been able to afford it. It's a miracle, my mother said quietly. We couldn't afford it and it just shows up under the tree. I wasn't excited by the sight of it, despite her hopeful thoughts.

And as my dad pulled the PS5 package out of the larger box, I was secretly expecting something bad to happen. I just didn't know what. Then, before I knew what was happening, my mom started screaming. The PS5 box was bloody on the bottom, dripping red onto the carpet. I couldn't help it. I stepped a few feet closer and looked inside the big gift wrapped box that my dad had opened. Beneath the PS5, downtown Santa had left another present.

This one was for me as well. Another warning to keep my mouth shut. Ryan's dismembered head was rolling back and forth off balance at the bottom of the gift box, looking far too small for such a large container. His open eyes stared up at me, blank and vacant. His mouth was open and I saw something dark, had been stuffed inside. A lump of coal. I've asked the nurses not to play any holiday music in the ICU.

They tell me that it's a decision from management and that it's out of their control. But an orderly finally took pity on me and brought me some earplugs. Better than nothing, I suppose. At least they make the trembling stop. I'm still too weak to move from the bed. I'll have to tell my story through talk to text. But first, I have to decide where it begins. Did all this start with the anonymous gift,

perfectly wrapped in gold paper and red ribbon, the notes and candle that it contained? Or was it even earlier when the holiday shopping season began in the more gift shop that I used to manage? We sell knick-knacks, speciality cards and seasonal decorations, jewelry, stuffed animals and scented candles.

I'm sure you know the place I mean. Unsurprisingly, the holiday season is the busiest time of year for us. I needed all hands on deck to decorate the shop on the last weekend of October. It could have meant all our jobs if we couldn't get the store numbers into the black, and if I had to be there, then so did my employees. We were a team and being part of our own. the team sometimes means you have to give up your Saturday off to come in and hang decorations. We all have to make sacrifices. Still, there was a lot of grumbling among the employees, setting up

fake snow in the store window and preparing the collectible ornament display. I reminded them that I was paying a whole dollar more than minimum wage. 8.25 an hour. And that we had an at-will employment. If they weren't happy in my franchise, they were freed to go somewhere else. I hear most of the others pay less, but at least I got things back on track, at least until transportation costs screwed my budget. If you don't believe me, just take a look at shipping costs a year ago compared to now.

The only way I was going to make it was if I cut hours and added some nice incentives, like free gift wrapping. I get that being alone in the store is no cakewalk. Look at the long hours that I work, and sure, wrapping packages perfectly isn't easy. But that's what work is. You show up and do what you're told.

Why couldn't my employees see that? That was when some of them started to call in sick, maliciously, I think, and against my clear instructions. Since we were short-staffed, no one could be out for any reason. I mean, I don't offer any health insurance, and there's no way they were actually going to see a doctor. As if the unexpected illness weren't enough, people actually started to quit. Good riddance. There were always more where those came from, and it was a good chance to cut away dead weight. I mean, if they weren't even loyal enough to come in when I called,

if they couldn't be cheerful for the customers while wrapping gifts, if they couldn't deal with a little cold or some overtime, then they deserved to be jobless as far as I was concerned. The silliest thing at the time was the reason some of them gave for quitting. It wasn't what I expected. There wasn't even something I thought about. My employees just didn't want the store to play holiday music anymore. Impossible, I told them.

Those songs were what got the customers in the mindset to buy. And besides, I gave them three different CDs to rotate each day. I wasn't being unreasonable. At least one of them gave me a parting gift, even if it was anonymous. At first, it seemed much nicer than the inappropriate words I found carved in the staff bathroom. The gift was a small box wrapped in golden paper and tied with a red ribbon. The wrapping was immaculate. I'd written up enough people for shoddy wrapping to know the difference

and the gift inside was a candle from my very own store. I didn't recognise the smell or the label, but it came with a tiny card. All I want for Christmas, it read, is you. That? It was nice, I thought. A little weird, but nice. It was about time someone showed a little gratitude to the guy who signed their paycheck. The ex-wife had the kids for the weekend,

so I lit the candle, set it on the coffee table in front of me, heated up some dinner in the microwave, and settled into my recliner for a James Bond marathon. Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas. I recognise store CD, music before I began to wonder about where I was or how I got there. The last thing I remember was the intro to Doc to Know.

I must have dozed off. It was hard to breathe. I was paralyzed. I couldn't move my arms or legs. I'd been wrapped, mummified in gift paper. I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know. My ears were splitting. I hated loud music.

I winced at every high note I had to make that awful sound stop But how? I couldn't see Even squirming like a worm Was a huge effort It made me sweat Then panic that I wasn't getting enough air

Long before I became a successful franchise manager I'd been a boy scout We went caving once And one of the chunky boys got stuck in a tight squeeze We'd all laughed at his predicament Helpless, wriggling buttons flying off, even wetting himself in his panic. He should have just skipped a couple twinkies, I remember thinking.

But that was then. It was a lot less funny when it was me who was unable to move with empty lungs and a full bladder. The paper was wrapped so tightly that I could taste it on my tongue. If I forced my neck up and down, I could weaken the stuff a little, but the effort for even such a tiny movement was exhausting. more lyrics played I don't know how long I kept at it soon the CD track started skipping

making me cringe even more I passed out several times from the effort and the lack of air just the wake of shivering in my own urine sweat and drool the room was freezing it must have been hours before I could

crinkle the paper enough to breathe properly then days before I was able to free my arms and legs by twisting them against the rapping until they bled. When I pulled the gift wrap from my head, it was still totally dark, except for the blinking light of a CD player, taunting me. As soon as I could move,

I smashed it. Overhead, blinding lights came on, and then the music started. I don't want a lot for Christmas. This is all I'm asking for. It came from everywhere. There were probably speakers hidden in the walls. I thought my ears would bleed.

I wish they would bleed, because that might muffle the sound at least a little bit. I held under my ears and took in my surroundings. It was a kind of holiday hellscape. The fake snow on the floor came up to my knees in places, and there were enough plastic trees to fill a shipping container. Cardboard boxes were stacked up to the bare concrete ceiling. I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree In front of the forest of plastic was a small package

Rapped in gold paper tied with a red ribbon Just like the candle My fingers shook as I tore into it Deck the halls read the anonymous Christmas card inside Beneath it was a piece of cake The kind I got for the employee's birthday parties because it was always on sale. It had gone stale days ago,

but I hadn't eaten in at least that long. My stomach rumbled, and the tiny dessert did nothing to save my hunger. There's no point in going into the details of all my attempts to escape from that nightmare of a room. It's enough to say that they all failed. The music and A-C blasted out from all sides. It was so, so cold,

but I couldn't even hear my teeth chattering over the festive songs. In the end, I'd improvise clothes from the sword wrapping paper and insulate it with fake snow. I found Santa suits in one of the boxes. Even when I put them on over my ridiculous wrapping paper suit, I still shivered. It took me a long, long time to realize that there was only one way to get more cake.

Deck, the halls. It's not easy to decorate. Christmas trees with shaking fingers. It's even harder when every time an ornament falls or isn't placed properly, a buzzer sounds, then the music volume goes up and the room gets a little colder. That's how I figured out that someone was watching me work. A kind of sadistic Santa watching over the trembling elf. More lyrics played.

Sure enough, when I finished the tree, a slot opened in the wall. I ran for it, yelling as loud as my horse throat would permit. it. A chunk of stale cake flew through the slot, along with a cold cup of coffee that splattered across the floor. It was slammed shut before I could even force my frigid fingers through. I collapsed on the cold concrete. I cried. Two days later, two days of that hellish music, two days of icy work to make the tree absolutely perfect, and this was all I got. One piece of cake and some spilled coffee that had to lick from the conventusage. creek like a dog.

It was sickening, but I needed liquids. There was a whole room full of trees to go. I'm just gonna keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe. It was tinsel, ornaments, endless strings of lights, stars, angels, pine cones, candy canes and collectibles. Each time the decorations weren't spaced just so, or I wasn't working fast enough. I got it The buzzer

The increased volume The blast of cold air If I really screwed up The pathetic chunk of cake Got even smaller More lyrics blared By the end of the first week I'd finished about half the trees

And my health and hearing Was permanently damaged Night or day The music never stopped The blazing white lights overhead Never went out The cold noise And light made an impossible

to sleep until I collapsed from sheer exhaustion. If I slept too long, I'd get the usual punishment. I'd no way of knowing, but too long seemed to be any longer than several minutes. Then it was back to work. I wasn't getting any nutrients. Each day I became weak and weaker. It must have taken more than ten days to finish the second set of trees to my taskmaster's satisfaction. By the time, I placed the final star atop the final perfect tree.

I could see my breath in clouds around it. My fingers around it looked blue. I wobbled back, waiting for something, anything to happen. But the CD just played on. Like not even the end of the world would stop it. I... Lost it. I don't remember the next part too well.

But when I came to, I was laying in a pile of destruction. Plastic pine needles and smashed ornaments were everywhere. And based on what was around my... neck. I tried to hang myself with Christmas lights. It was like whoever had put me here had forgotten about me. The cake and coffee was disgusting, sure, but it had been keeping me alive. The buzzer didn't sound. The slot didn't open. There was only one explanation. I'd finally been left. To die, what more can I do? All I want for Christmas. is you

it was several days later when the police kicked in the door to rescue me apparently the disgruntled ex-employer who kidnapped me had been stopped for a routine traffic violation on his way to the abandoned basement where I was being held he had a list of prize

and when he realised the cops weren't letting him go for a long time he confessed where I was he hadn't wanted to kill me he said he just wanted me to see what it was like I guess you could call that my own little Christmas miracle. The nurses tell me that when they dragged me out of there,

I was near hypothermia and barely conscious. I wouldn't have lasted a day more. And yet, they told me I was singing long. You're going to pass that thing over? Dee sat down next to me with deflated shoulders and a look of exhaustion. We were both outside in the dark. perched and an old AC unit round the back of the mall where deliveries were dropped off

Looking down I saw her aimlessly kick her legs back And when I realised that she still wore a curled toe elf shoes I lost all control and began to cackle As I passed it over It took her a few seconds to realise why And when she did she pulled a parker tight To hide a red and green striped elf uniform Screw you

She said as she reached up and pulled her fake pointy ears before taking a drag. You wouldn't find this funny if you had to greet people dressed like this. Oh, come on, I'm sure the Moorwalkers love it. Ugh, the old men keep trying to grab my ass, she groaned. What the hell is wrong with guys? This isn't the first time he's mentioned dressing with Elf ears. I swallowed my laughter and took the joint back when she passed it.

You do look kind of cute, innocent like. Oh, that's just gross. Not as gross as what Dave's going to ask you to do with that candy cane. I pointed to the fake butter candy that was pinned to her waist. Ah, she cried out before playfully hitting me. What is wrong with you? Nothing's wrong with me. You're the one that's going to do it.

She kept hitting me as we broke down into a fit of giggles. It drained you, working in a place like that. And sometimes, after a long day, left me feeling a few breadroll shorts of a picnic basket. It didn't help that staffing was practically non-existent and internet shopping had all but killed off the Christmas search. The owner, a sweaty little man who looked increasingly overworked with each new year, tried to drum up more business by having us dress up like idiots.

I was dressed as Santa for most of the day, but it wasn't that bad, aside from the fake beard that got itchy. It was Dee who got the worst of it, forced as dress as an elf and stand by a dingy-looking grotto, while greeting what few visitors we had each morning. It didn't help sales. Nothing the owner did ever help. The mall was too far from any towns, and it was quickly dying.

If you ever needed to visit a massive building filled with keycutters and mobile phone repair shops, we had you covered. Other than that, there was nothing worth seeing. It's getting cold, Dee said when we finally stopped laughing. I don't understand why you didn't get that dick boyfriend of yours to come pick you up. I want to be able to choose if I see him, she shrugged. and I made him drop me off at mine. Besides, you don't mind me riding along, do you? Your mother thinks I'm hilarious.

She is just being polite, I said. Truth is, she thinks her a bad influence. Is that right? I'm the bad influence. Doesn't she grow all your weed? Yeah, but she heard what Dave wants you to do with those candy gains. Oh, get lost, Dee cried with laughter. Seriously, I'm freezing.

Any sign of her? I check my phone, and let out an audible groan. She's late, I said, as I read the text. She's stuck at the hospital. She says if it goes past 11, I can get a taxi and she'll pay. Isn't there a storm due? What time is it now?

Dee asked. Quarter past eight. Damn. Come on, I said. I'll open them all back up. We'll have to wait inside. Where do you get this creepy-ass stuff? I asked Dee.

The first thing that greeted us was that. little Christmas-themed display the owner had brought up by the entrance, and it was enough to make me wonder if we should just sit outside in the cold. Plastic elves with round heads grinned at us, the chipped pie-shaped eyes squinting with a creepy kind of voyeurism. Nicotine-coloured fake snow gathered around their feet where they stood, stock-still, staring right at me and anyone else who dared to enter. In the daytime, they looked cheap and laughable, but with no real light other than the moon behind me. I found them deeply unsettling.

Nowhere near as creepy, as the Santa though. God knows, Dee shrugged as she made a bee-line towards the cafeteria. I think the elves came from some bankruptcy auction. The animatronic Santa, however. Santa stood seven feet tall and was made of spray-painted plastic and metal.

Behind his eyes and lips, and in between every joint of his arms, legs and torso, lay tiny steel mechanisms that looked all to ready to snip off any curious fingers. This was a homemade decoration if I had ever seen one, and I dreaded to think of who we'd put it together from scrap. And why? Al's been going nuts trying to figure out how to turn it on, Dee cried as she pulled two chairs off the table and set them down for us. No way to plug it in, no sign of a battery, but it's obviously meant to move. anyone can see that.

Every time he tries pulling one of the pounds off to get a better look, he ends up slashing his hand open on something. I looked at its enormous steel boots and noticed the chips and scratches all along the tow and sides. Must the hurt? I muttered mindlessly, before tearing my eyes away and walking over to my friend. Creeps me the hell out, decrumbled as you put a feet up on the table. Every single kid who comes in starts bawling their eyes out when they see it.

The only business that thing would drum up is from serial killers. I keep begging him to just put it away, but he says he paid for it and he ain't moving it. Cheap asshole. Besides, she laughed as she reached over and poked my belly. We got another Santa right here. Right? Oh, if you think I'm going to be stood up there next to you

letting old mall workers molest me, then you've got another thing coming. Dee burst out laughing, and with a nudge of the elbow, she asked. Got another joint. Yeah, but... But what? It's a long night, I replied, and we only just smoked.

And, you know, it's one thing if we're doing something fun, but... I don't fancy sitting here, trying to swallow my palpitations with murder claws standing right behind me. Dee cackled loudly and stood up. Come on, why don't we go sit in old owl's office? He never locks it, and he's always stashing cheap whiskey somewhere. I looked over my shoulder towards the mechanical centre. and had to suppress a shiver. The empty eyes always seemed to fixate me, no matter where I stood.

Yeah, all right, I shrugged. Let's go. Have you seen Al recently? I asked as Dee tried the handle to his office. After a little bit of fiddling with an old credit card, she bobbed the lock and it pushed open. I thought he said he leaves it open, I added. Dee shrugged my question off and strode into the

the office like it belonged to her. I haven't seen him today, she said as she sat down on the small sofa. How can a man that rich let something that ugly sit in his office? I groaned while eyeing the furniture. Knowing Al, he bought it from a strip club, she said. Quick wipe down and he'd happily use it. That man has no shame. It's like working for Mr. Crabbs.

I went to sit next to her, but stopped at the last minute. Distinct memories of my employer fairing all. Old-looking divorces into his office for private meetings sprung to mind, and I shrunked away from his touch. I'll take the desk, I said, as I walked over and switched on the lamp. Behind me, Dee began to giggle at my reaction to the sofa. She might have said something about it, cracked a joke maybe. I can't remember. The light came on and the old fabric desk chair was revealed.

The flat seats soaked and greasy-looking blood. that dripped onto the floor in a thick puddle. I cried out and Dee hurried over. What the hell? she whispered. Did he hurt himself? Slowly I began to take in the surrounding area, noticing the broken photo frames and overturned papers. He looked like a fighter had taken place

and there was more than just a one splash of blood. Streaks of it appeared on the edges of the desk and all along the floor. They looked like finger marks. and they slowly tracked away from the desk and towards the door, thinning out bit by bit, until there was only a solitary handprint left on the jamb at about knee height. Oh boy, Dee whispered as both her eyes lingered on that spot.

I couldn't help but picture our boss lying there with one bloodied hand, clutching at the doorframe. About a year back, I saw him get into a fight with some guys in a lot, she said. They looked like a bunch of nasty guys, and they kept asking about some cow. And what do you know? Next day, our go's for a three-week holiday.

And when he returns, first thing he does is call those same guys up to his office. You know money laundering is what keeps this place open? Something has to, I said. Do you think we should call the police? Maybe, she shrugged. Last time they came, he went off together money to pay him back. Maybe he's doing the same thing this time. Still, do you want to wait outside?

She asked. I took one last look at the blood-soaked chair and nodded Yeah She took my hand and led me out But both of us were given pause at the sound of squealing metal And rusted hinges A solitary cry The sound had rung out somewhere deep inside the mall

Hidden away in the labyrinth of shadows and glass shop fronts Was that a door? Dee asked And both of us stood on the metal gantry looking down with our breath held. We waited and waited, but nothing moved. We should really head out the front and call the cops, I said, but neither of us took up the charge.

I thought about taking the first step down towards the ground floor, but couldn't quite manage it. There was no sign of anything or anyone down there. But... And second thought, Dee said. That was a sleazy guy who can take care of himself. Let's just wait this out in the lunch, room, yeah? At least we can keep an eye

in the parking lot. We'll see our ride coming from a mile away. If he isn't in work tomorrow, then we'll call someone for help. Dee and I were in the lunchroom, raise your pace somewhere behind me, muttering rationalisations about what we'd seen. Feeling incredibly tired, I had my chin

propped up in my hand, and was losing my eyes wonder the lot outside. More and more, I found them returning to the same, beat up looking car in the distant corner. I can't get a signal here. here, but maybe we're overacting. I mean, it might not even be his blood. Al's a feisty guy, and I bet my family's house he's got a gun squirled away somewhere in that office. Not to mention he isn't exactly a small guy and... Dee, I said, feeling the need to stop a rambling.

Over the last few minutes, a heavyweight had started to settle in my gut as my eyes fought their hardest to see past the gentle fury of falling snow and make sense of that lonely car. D? Is that Dave's car? I asked. When she ran over, I think she was actually feeling a little happy. Oh, damn, did he actually turn up? He does this sometimes, tries to surprise me. It drives me nuts most of the time, but today might be the first time I'd be thankful.

It's been there for ages, I said. It's been there since we first went outside. I noticed it, but didn't think anything of it. But I swear that's... Oh, damn. Well, then it's not him, decry. I cried, fairly annoyed. He wouldn't sit outside for an hour and a half without getting me.

Would he? I swear there's someone in the front seat, I said. Oh, well, maybe they could give us a ride. And Dee, I swear to God that's his license plate. No way you can read that from here. I don't need to read it at all, just the part with a six-nine in it. I cried. Who else drives a car with the same make and model that also has the same number on the plate?

D leaned down beside me and squinted hard through the snow Her noines with me was fading Slowly replaced with anxious acceptance No way she scoffed I mean yeah it's the same make a model And color But why would he park up and just wait Why would anyone do that

Should we find out The snowfall had rapidly built up And fears of being trapped in the hills was starting to nip away and my sense of calm. We'd had to camp out in the mall before during the Christmas season, and it always sucked. But this time, the thought filled me with genuine dread. I kept telling myself it was an unlikely thing to happen.

But, as D and I fought away to the car, I realized it might soon be inevitable. The snowfall was already thick on the ground, pulling out our shoes and soaking our feet all the way to her ankles. We were practically busy. blind out there, marching through the near whiteout conditions to what I hoped was the right part of the lot. Once or twice Dee tried shouting something at me, but both of us quickly gave up trying to talk

to each other over the sounds of the Girl Force winds. When we got close enough to the car to read the plate in full, Dee cried out and gripped my shoulder to help herself go quicker on the icy tarmac. She looked happy, but I couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong. I took a look at the blurry shape in the driver's seat, registered the frost growing over the windows, and started to wonder why the hell anyone would sit out there with no heating. Not to mention they were stuck still,

refusing to look at us, even as Dee jogged over and banged the window with a fist. Something drew my attention, some movement I couldn't see, and I turned to look at them all behind us. Something in my gut told me, It wasn't quite empty, as though another pair of eyes watched us from behind all that dirty glass and rusted metal shutters. It was just about the only thing visible in the mounting storm, and as the snow piled up around its doors,

I couldn't escape the feeling there was danger hiding in its shadows. I couldn't have looked over for more than a few seconds, but it felt like an age. And when Dee started screaming, I was whipped back to the presence so quickly I was disorientated. I barely even registered what it was she was saying or crying as she turned and grabbed my jacket. Her fingers digging into the fabric so tight I heard stitches start to give. It was so much, so quickly. Her screaming, the wind, the cold, the feeling of her nails as they caught my skin and started to dig in. By the time I looked up, I know that only a few seconds could have passed.

But it all felt like it played out over long minutes, like a kind of dream. Dee had managed to open the car door, and there sat Dave, looking right at me. But my brain nagged. Something was wrong. I just couldn't figure out what.

He had his jacket, his jeans, the little waving toy cat on the dash. It was all there. I just kept staring at him in disbelief. My face probably mirroring his own expression that gawked at me with wide, eyes and an open mouth. When my brain finally caught up

with reality, it felt like a punch to the stomach. Dave's head had been twisted, damn near, clean off. His hands gripped the wheel, but his chin was pointing right at us over his left shoulder. The angle completely impossible.

It wasn't that his neck was turned a bit too far for comfort. His head had been wrenched around two, maybe three times. He was so grotesque, I almost wanted to touch. it to see if it felt like vinyl or rubber. Movies had conditioned me to expect a bit of unrealism from that kind of gore. But geez, I could see every individual hair of his eyebrows. I could see the blue and purple veins that had burst in his eyes. It was all so wrong,

I simply didn't know what to make of it. And for some god-awful stupid reason, I reached out and took his shoulder, just the check that he was dead. What the hell are you doing? Dee cried. I just... I couldn't get the words out and I soon recognised the signs of shock. I decided to light and load in my head and pushed all the thoughts aside until only a single notion remained. I'm cold.

We need to get inside, I said, my teeth chattering. Dee said nothing as I pulled her up by her arm and guided her back to the mall. The grotto. was different. Two large, empty prints stood in the fake snow, each as large as my head. The centre was gone. I looked at the footprints and tried to ignore what felt like a clenched fist planted square in my gut. So far, my mind was racing to pull at some strange threads,

ones I recognised from a thousand horror films and hackneyed stories. I wanted to shake them free, but they wouldn't go away. I should have been beside Dee trying like hell to call the police but deep down I knew it wouldn't work lately I had the feeling of being watched finding Dave's body had left me convinced it was more than just a feeling I can't get through

Dee said stepping up to me and surveying the empty prints I keep trying but it's just dead Al uses a repeater to get signal out here doesn't he I asked to which she nodded Sometimes Someone's taking it down, I guess I mean, they must have killed Dave Earlier than 8, right?

That was when we went out and sat out there. As for Al, could have been any time. We don't know Al's dead. Either way, we're stuck here And I don't like it. My mother might turn up, but some day she's in work until midnight.

Damn, I said, briefly looking at the windows where snow was falling thick and fast. I'm not sure she'd reach us if she left right now, and we've been stuck before, right? It's reasonable we'd be here until morning. She might be a bit anxious, but she probably won't call the police for a while yet. So, we just wait. Dee, I said, trying to catch her eye.

I don't think we're alone here. I think we should lock ourselves in our house office, she replied. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I want to be somewhere with the door we can lock. Wait. She cried the last word so suddenly. jumped and whipped around lightning fast, half expecting to find some dreadful plastic face gazing back at me. Instead, there were two blinding headlights staring right at us from the parking lot. For a few seconds, I was confused, not sure if this strange car was going to ram us or reverse

or what, only for the car to turn and meander out of sight towards the back of the mall. When I looked back at Dee, she was grinning with delight. Graham, she cried. The name clicked, and I smiled too. The security guard had just arrived. I completely forgot it even shows up, I cried as I chased after D towards the rear of the mall. Me too, she replied as she reached the back door and pushed it open.

It could have only been 30 seconds since we lost sight of the car, but when we ran out, we saw it idle in the middle of the small lot. The engine wasn't running. but the lights were still on and pointing right at us, blinding me to who might be in the driver's seat. I quickly stepped out of the beam and walked over, my heart plunging into my stomach as I saw what waited for me. The car was empty,

and one of the windows had been broken, and the roof was dented. The door was thrown wide open, but the only sign of the security guard was this heavy-duty flashlight that had been left behind on the ground just outside the car. I quickly grabbed it and turned it on. Dee screamed and I moved the light towards her. She was looking up, pointing towards the roof of the mall

with one hand clasped over her mouth. I quietly tracked the beam across and caught sight of the pale face looking back at me. Graham was upside down, his back flat against the wall with limp arms dangling freely. Even from 30 or 40 feet away, I could tell his eyes were vacant and lifeless. But that didn't mean he was still.

Something had already heaved him up to the very top of the wall in mere minute. I was now busy pulling the rest of him over the stony ledge with brutal efficiency. A living person might have screamed at such rough treatment, but I could only make out the sound of breaking bones and tearing cloth as his back arched to a complete 90 degrees before he was yanked over the rest of the way. Dee had stopped crying. Her lips were pressed tight, and her face was white when she looked back at me. But I could tell she'd seen what had taken him.

The wall itself had handholds punched directly through the concrete and into the brick behind it. What the hell did that? I asked. We need to get inside. It was the only thing, she said. What are you looking for? she asked. I have a hunch, I replied as I pulled open the bottom drawer of ours. desk. Ha!

I cried before reaching in and pulling out a snub-nosed revolver. It's so unbelievably damn illegal for him to have this, but thank God he does. It won't matter, Dee said. I'm awful finding a weapon, but...

But what? I asked as I checked the drawer for any ammunition. All I managed to find were three rounds, and that included one already in the gun. I loaded up the rest and tucked the pistol into my belt. I'm not sure that guns going to do much, Dee said as she watched me.

I thought of the empty grotto and the strength it would take to climb that wall by punching into brick. Better than nothing, I replied. I don't suppose you saw any keys in Dave's car. Dee shuddered at the reminder of her boyfriend's death, but she answered anyway. Nothing in the ignition. Should we go check the foot well? It might be her any choice, I said.

But I don't feel optimistic. Maybe in the morning, but for now, I think the best bet is to stay still. Dee went to reply, but she didn't get the chance. With a loud thunk, the light and electricity cut out all at once. The mall itself didn't change, but the office were in cut to black

and I managed to scramble to get the torch and turn it on. I found Dee pressed up against the wall, a look of panic on her face. What the hell? she whispered. I silently agreed and turned the light towards the only door in and out of that room. For long seconds, nothing happened. I could hear only the muffled sounds of wind buffeting the building, as Dee and I both held her breath and stayed as still as we could.

Then came the sound of something landing on the gantry outside. Metal creaked and groaned, but nothing followed for long seconds until at last there came another loud but softer crash of metal on metal. With steady rhythm, the sound of something large, slowly walking towards the door grew louder, until I finally shook myself free of the paralyzing terror and threw the door open to look outside. Whatever was out there was practically on the other side of the mall, but it was so heavy, the entire metal walkway shook violently with each step. We have to move now, I said, while great.

grabbing Dee. She was afraid, but as soon as she saw the distance between us and the dark shape making its way toward the elevated office, it was clear she understood my meaning. The gap was closing, but there was time. We ran towards the nearby stairs and quickly made it down to the ground floor. Using the light, I checked the can tree and saw a brief flash of something red and large, but whatever it was, it suddenly moved too quickly and I lost sight of it. "'It's messing with us,' I hissed, speaking only to myself. "'We need power,' Dee said, her voice surprisingly calm. "'One of the shops has a secure room, but it needs power for the door to lock.

"'How thick is the door?' I asked. "'I think it used to be a bucky, so it's pretty strong.' "'I didn't like it much as a plan, but it was all we had, "'and I was desperate to start moving. "'This is bull crap!' "'D hissed the words as we pushed open the door of the basement, my light catching a few of the steps before they descended into blackness. There were only a few rooms down there, but I was mostly interested in the fuse box right

at the back, farthest away from where we were standing. Unfortunately, when we reached the floor, we were stuck navigating a claustrophobic collection of large pumps, pipes, and large aircon units that towered over us. This is bull crap, I growled as we carefully stalked away past row after row of machinery. I can't see a damn thing, just keep an eye out for the door to the back room. When Dee's hand found mine, she crushed it so hard it hurt. But it got my attention silently and I turned the flashlight back to where she pointed. Sure enough, there was the room we'd been searching for.

Only now, it looked like something straight out of a nightmare. The door had been blown outwards, like metal under pressure, and by right it shouldn't have been standing. It certainly didn't fit the hole behind it, but something had grown around the frame and held it in place. The substance, whatever it was, resembled roadkill crossed with an industrial accident. Pipes and needles and semi-recognisable tools

jotted out of roiling fur and liquid flesh, reminding me of a ferromagnetic fluid. It never stayed still, but it never really moved either. I think we both would have left right there and then, were it not for the sound of someone crying out from within. Hello, they shouted. I can hear you out there. Please, please help me.

Ah damn, that's Al, Dee said. A hand gripping mine so hard I felt blood-pooling in my fingertips. All right, I said, mostly to calm myself. All right, we got to do this. If anyone knows what's going on, it's Al. The door opened nice and easily. despite every bit of the jam being gummed up with fur and pallid skin that never stayed still. Stepping inside, I saw a dungeon right out of someone's worst nightmare.

The whole room was a rancid bubbling mess of meat and metal with fleshy growths descending from the ceiling. In each one, their hung a victim, trapped in the substance. Their upside-down faces resting at about chest height. Hoping to free them, I ran to the closet and saw Graham, there and back at me with lifeless eyes. I only needed one glance at the missing portion of his skull to realize he was dead. The same was true for Dave,

who'd somehow been transported out of the car and to hear, and for a few of the other unfamiliar characters who lay suspended in this horror. All of them showed signs of coming apart in grotesque ways. The liquid flesh and metal that encased Graham was steadily pouring into his skull against the flow of gravity and into his open mouth. Dave's broken neck had split open

and clinking metallic probes scuttled between exposed vertebrae like termites in a house. The others who appeared to have been dead much longer were all barely recognisable as human. All that remained were faces and tufts of hair. Somehow, Al was alive, writhing and fighting the mast that encased him. Get the hell over here!

cried. I began to tear the awful substance away from him. It was like handling greasy, raw chicken and unseen shards of metal consistently cut in my hands, so that progress was slow, and wouldn't speed up until Dee appeared a few seconds later with a crowbar. I was about to ask where she found it, but I stopped when I saw what looked like a bunch of nerves growing out of the end. I realized she must have torn it from one of the horrifying stalactites that surrounded us. Their writhing forms, constantly producing an endless array of familiar shapes and tools. How long have you been here? I whispered to Al, just as Dee freed his shoulder and his arm came loose. I don't know, he said, but we have to leave now. This...

A murderous Santa Claus machine running around? I cried hysterically. Where the hell did you find it? I didn't. Dee got his second arm free and refused to. to wait any longer, Al began to tear away every last bit of metal and flesh that held him in place. By the time it reached his legs, Dee and I were forced to watch and grimace, as he meant Al pulling out tiny metallic filaments that pierced his skin. He snapped them with an audible twang, and each time he swallowed an agonized scream behind clenched teeth that made me wonder just how deep they went. What the hell do you mean you didn't find it? Dee asked once he was

free and on the floor. It took a few seconds for the blood in his body to right itself, so he knelt there, panting and answered our questions. It appeared by the dumpster, he said. Sometimes people chuck stuff in the bins for pickup. It's a pain of the ass, but this time, well, I turned up, and there he was, standing right by the back entrance, next to the dumpster like someone couldn't be bothered to throw him in. I thought, you know, why the hell not?

He looked homemade, but so what? I figured a small business must have made it, and then, for whatever reason, they threw it away on our doorstep. You know, I would honestly like to blame you right now, I said, but I'm not sure anyone could have predicted this. To be fair, the costumes are just fine. D and I took a moment to look at him as his words settled in. What? he cried.

A tragedy shop dumped something like 30 bags in our dumpster. You think I ain't going to check it out to see if it's worth. "'Look at this,' he said, "'or reaching out to touch a lapel and Dee's waistcoat. "'That sturdy material right there, "'and the kids love an elf come Christmas.' "'Did you wash them?' I asked. "'Awe shrugged.

"'I gave him a sniff.' "'I pinched the bridge of my nose and swallowed my words. "'When I spoke, it was the D. "'Can you check Dave for his keys?' "'Don't bother,' Al said, cutting us off. "'I've got to be my mouth. mine in my pocket and my cars parked out front where it always is. Let's go. Before we left, I had D and I grab another two sets of keys just in case. One off Dave and one off Graham.

Hopefully we wouldn't need them, but I didn't feel like putting any more faith in Al. When I turned the corner and saw the grotto, the elves were all of their backs to me. I skidded to a halt so quickly that decollided with my back. She didn't swear or curse. All of us had been running towards the front of the mall, perfectly aware of what might be waiting for us. It was a risk I'd hoped would pay off. It didn't. The animatronic Santa was facing us, empty eyes and a hollow grin fixing us, even in the dark. Surprisingly though, even as D&I were frozen in terror, Al settled past us and looked at it quizzically.

I think we can do this, he whispered. It's right there, I hissed. No, he said, stepping out toward it, closing the distance to just 10 or 15 feet. No, it's not. Before I could stop him, he walked up to the centre and tapped it. A hollow sound like a bell rang out, and he turned back to us with a grin. It's not here, he cried. I didn't understand what exactly he meant.

but just in case he thunted a few more times and even grabbed it with both hands and rocked it back and forth his laughter verging unhysterical cautiously I allowed myself to approach the centre painfully aware that Al had refused to hand over the keys for goodness sake Al Dee cried as we passed him and moved toward the door we need to leave

alright he said with a nod just wanted to prove to you that we were set His voice was cut off by sound Like a toolbox falling into custard I snapped around a sea But with no light in the mall And only a thin bit of moonlight And the fading torch in my hand

It was hard to gauge what happened clearly At least at first Something had landed on Al The growing puddle of blood And the arterial sprays that had soaked us both Even as we stood over ten feet away made it clear there would be no revival for Al. Neither Dee nor I cried out,

but we both grew stiff with terror as we realised what we were looking at. It moved like a spider, but looked more like a jellyfish sculpture made out of refurbished tools. Only it wasn't just that either. Fingers and hair and flaps of torn skin were jammed into every little crevice

so that you couldn't tell if you were looking at something alive, dead or a bit of both. If I had to guess, it was the last option. Like the strange substance in the basement, this thing didn't stay still either. Every inch of it coiled and rolled over itself, but it lacked the shapelessness of that lifeless scoop downstairs. It skittered and moved,

even as it stood tearing over owls crushed and lifeless body. Suddenly, a piece of it struck out at the metal santa then gummed itself to the mouth. For a few seconds, I thought it might yank the machine towards it, but slowly I realized that the main mass of the body was shrinking. It was pouring itself into the animatronic. And just like that, I understood how this thing had liked to move and hunt, and maybe even get close to people without being spotted a million miles away.

The thought that it might have stood there immobile in its hiding place for weeks as hundreds of people poured past it to go shopping, made my skin crawl. With a final slurp, the last of the thing tumbled into the centre, and with a noise like a breaking train, the head turned to face us. Nope,

Dee cried as I choked forward to grab the bloody keys that lay on the floor. We've got two others, remember? In a single motion, she swung me around and had us both facing the doors out of there. Normally, the shutter would be down, but something had already done the job of tearing it to pieces at some point in the night. With hardly any distance to go, we were out in the wind and snow, before that monster had even taken its first step.

We were a further 50 metres away when something blew the whole front door out in a flurry of snow and sparking metal. Where before it had felt as though something lurked in the darkness, watching and hunting us with gleeful patience, I now got the sense we had ticked it off. Something was tearing towards us with a speed that belied its sheer hulk in mass, and I'm sure if we hadn't turned the corner when we did, it would have crushed us into the snow,

like it was a freight train running over a penny. Still, the less than the second that elapsed between us turning and the sound of screeching metal coming to a stop was enough to send white-up pangs of terror coursing through my veins. It had been so near. Ahead lay Graham's car with a light still. God, we were so close, but I knew deep down we'd never make it. I might have been crying, maybe even babbling.

I'm not sure it even matters. In an instant, all my racing thoughts crystallized into a single, terrifying idea. D, I cried, and I threw the keys towards her. Get the hell out of here, I screamed, before taking a sharp left and prowling towards the fire exit by the back. It was a 50-50 chance, but, To my relief, I heard the monster turned to chase me. The last thing I saw before I pulled the door shut

was Dee clambering into the driver's seat and the emotionless glare of the badly sculpted Santa face thundering towards me at breakneck speeds. I muttered curses under my breath as I went to run right back to the mall to the very same entrance we just left. I made it ten metres at most before the door behind me burst open

like a SWAT team had kicked it down. The thing that chased me didn't even slow, and when I saw a glimpse of it, I saw arachnid limbs emerging from its knees and elbows that gripped the floor and fought to keep the monster upright. The sight of it struggling to keep up at such high

speed gave me an idea. All I can say for Al is that thank God he won't let a bad idea get in his way. There's old gunball machines no one actually uses. I'm always littered with them. I left over from the 90s.

They stood at most corners in the hope that some kid might drop a few coins in it to chew gum that wouldn't even last five seconds. Whatever the reason, I was familiar with them, if only because I'd scratched my head after they still darted the place, long after they'd been fashionable.

I was still lucky to find myself near to one when the idea came to me, and I quickly threw it to the floor in a desperate crash. The sound that followed was like thunder, meeting a high speed car crash. The animatronic lost all traction and collapsed in a forward-moving fall,

skidding to a halt after only a few metres as its ridiculously heavy frame scratched grooves into the cheap floor Tendors and limbs shot out to try and arrest its inertia which now carried it in the wrong direction to my flight but the monster's attempts to slow were useless in the face of its own mass By the time it scurried out of its metal house I had reached the shutters I risked only a quick glance at ours brutalised corpse

and was on the verge of crying for joy as I saw Dee pull up in a car. Lights were blinding, but they illuminated enough of the space behind me to see that thing tearing through the building to reach me. I didn't even open the car door. I jumped in through the window head first and Dee drove off with a tire squeal of acceleration.

The last thing we heard as we left the lot was a sound of that thing ripping the front entrance apart piece by piece in a terrifying rage. By the time the storm cleared and people made it to the mall There was nothing to be found except rubble and broken glass The mall itself was written off as a shoddy construction job compounded by years of poor maintenance Al was notoriously cheap

And his business empire If it could be called that He caused a frightening number of injuries and close calls It soon came out that when he bought the mall for cheap It was only on the condition that he got a ton of repairs done He never did, of course So, in everyone's eyes There was a pretty good explanation for the missing people

And by the time their bodies were finally dug up From under all that broken concrete No one thought twice about why they're in such bad shape A few journalists rant stories Asking why some of those dead people Had gone missing days before the collapse But nothing really came of it D and I spoke a little about what happened

But it was all written off as shock by some or a sick prank by others. After a while, we had to stop sharing our version of events. People either thought we were crazy or cruel. D and I did our best to imagine that it all ended with thousands of tons of rock crushing that monster to death. But, I've never been satisfied. I don't know why it pulled that building down,

but it worked out pretty well for it, didn't it? People walked away thinking nothing had happened. everything from the timing of the storm to its choice of disguise tells me it wasn't stupid. I imagine it elaine in that old standard decoration for weeks picking stragglers and late workers off one by one until the coming storm left us cut off and the opportunity was too good to pass up. So I guess I wasn't too surprised when I saw a photo in the paper just a few weeks later that caught my eye. Since seeing it and verifying with my own eyes, I've spoken to Dee, and she's agreed to what we need to do.

There's a town not too far from us that's hosting a little winter festival, ice skating, Santa's grotto, a ferris wheel. There's nothing big, but I'm sure a few thousand people will still pass through it by the time Christmas Day rolls around. Only, there's already been a few missing children in the area, sparking fears from the police. but no one has yet to connect their disappearances to the eerie-looking animatronic Santa that stands looming over visitors right by the entrance D and I know better though and tonight

we'll be paying that thing a visit The first time I saw the creature was two days ago on my way into work It was early morning around 6 a.m. And I was driving down the street when I saw the strangest-looking snowman

I'd ever laid eyes on. It was taller than an ordinary snowman, made of four large round boulders of ice instead of the usual three. It had extra arms as well. Six sticks came off from his thorax like giant insect legs. Three sticks on each side,

crooked and knobby. Two more branches were protruding from his face, like warped misshapen mandibles. It had a wicked grin, with sharp teeth made of jagged, broken stones. Wow, why can a creepy-ass latchy kids build a snowman like that? I asked myself aloud, picturing Calvin from Calvin and the Hobbs and his demented snowman escapades. Only, this was not funny.

It was highly disturbing for some reason I couldn't put my finger on. The effect was terrifying, like a giant insectile snow alien, a totem of ice, made from a malevolent frozen god. And worse yet, its gaze seemed to follow me as I drove past in the low light of the morning. Surely just my imagination, I told myself, tired eyes and not enough sleep. But still, I glanced in the mirror and saw its head was turned in my direction. When I had been certain it had been facing the other way before. I shuddered involuntarily and continued driving, feeling like a dark, cloud was following me for the rest of the day. On the way home later, I was pleasantly surprised

to see the snowman had been taken down. I realized I'd been holding my breath as I turned into the street I lived on, oddly afraid as I approached the house where the snow creature had been constructed. Maybe the kids' parents found the thing as creepy as I did, I thought to myself. Either way, I was glad to see it gone. continuing down the street to my house, I backed into my driveway. Then looked up and froze when I saw the exact same snowman was now on my neighbour's front lawn across the street. His head turned so it was looking straight at me.

Its extra legs and arms appeared to be waving in the strong winds, making it look animated and alive. I got out of the car, eyeing the snowman across the road suspiciously. Hey, Jordan. said a weasley voice to my left as I set my feet down on the slick driveway. Cards off guard, I slipped on the black eyes. After pinwheeling and sliding for a few scary moments, I recovered my balance by grabbing onto the hood of the car with both hands.

Turning, I looked to see my neighbour, Bill, was standing there on a ladder, putting up Christmas lights and ironed me strangely. I realized I had made a high-bitch yelp of fear when he had spoken. Right before my awkward little dance, on the ice. You're right. Fine, I said. Just surprised me, that's all.

He laughed as if that was the funniest thing in the world. Quite a show last night, he said. His words punctuated by the punch of a stable gun into the wood beneath the eaves. Once in a lifetime, if you ask me. Huh? I said, confused. What show? He laughed again.

The northern lights. Didn't you see them? Better than a movie man, I'll tell you. They say that sort of thing doesn't come along very often, not this far south. I had to get to bed early for work. I must have missed it. It whistled softly. Oh, that's a tragedy.

You won't get a chance like that again. Once in a lifetime. They said so on the local news this morning. I had always found Bill's voice to be slightly annoying, like a weasel or a field rodent of some kind. although it did match his facial features and mannerisms. He moved quickly and constantly, jumping from project to project,

as if he didn't have any real job, just housework. His Christmas decorations were already the nicest on the street, and yet he was still putting more lights up. Meanwhile, we'd been too busy to even put up a wreath or a Christmas tree. He had a giant snowblower parked just inside his open garage, which I loved with the passion. He was out every morning at 6 a.m. using it, even on weekends. His driveway and sidewalk were always immaculate and free of snow.

Ours was usually the opposite of that. Hey Bill, do you see that snowman across the street? I asked. He turned on the ladder just slightly to look over his shoulder, then went back to stapling. Thwack, thwack, thwack. Yeah, it's a snowman, so? I could have sworn, I stopped myself, realizing how crazy it all would sound.

What? Nothing. Just had a long day. I must be imagining things. I'll talk to you later, Bill. I began walking inside, and he called after me. Oh, by the way, don't begin to shovel the walkway on your side. I saw a bylaw officer out earlier.

Wouldn't want you to get another ticket. like last week. Sure, thanks Bill, I said, trying to maintain my composure. He'd probably called him himself. After a 12-hour shift, the last thing I wanted to do was go back outside in the cold and shovel the icy walkway under his scrutinizing gaze. Bill always acted friendly, but it was well known he resented most of the neighbours for various reasons and relentlessly gossiped about everyone. I went inside. and found my wife was laying down in bed with a headache. She had left a note out saying she wasn't feeling well,

and I'd have to make my own dinner. After popping a frozen pizza in the oven, I went out to shovel the sidewalk, spreading salt in the driveway, so it would hopefully melt by morning. As I looked up from my work, I couldn't help but notice the snowman again. And it was closer this time.

Yes, it almost certainly was. almost at the street now as if approaching me very softly. I shook my head and finished with shoveling, then returned to the warmth of the indoors. My pizza had been forgotten, and the house was beginning to fill with greyish smoke and the charcoal smell of cheap burnt pizza dough. After airing out the house,

I made a can of beans and toast and went to bed, feeling slightly hungry, my mind running through a strange idea over and over again. The thought seemed ludicrous, far-fetched and bizarre, and yet I couldn't stop circling it. My dreams that night were terrible, but I forgot almost everything the second I woke up, being left only with the uneasies of knowing I'd been chased in my sleep by something cold and evil, with too many legs and beady black eyes. For eight hours I relentlessly slumbered and fought a demon in my dreams,

and so when I rolled out of bed I was still exhausted and my eyes refused to stay open without a concerted effort coffee helped as it always did and I ventured out into cold darkness and scraped off the car

for my morning drive to work suddenly I was shocked wide awake when I looked up to see the reflection of the snowman creature from across the street standing right behind me my heartbeat was suddenly hammering hard in my chest and I actually dropped the ice-scraper from my hand. I turned around and saw the thing

had been standing just inches away. Certain that it had not been there a few moments before, I began to feel shaky and sick with fear. Getting into my car without turning around, I gun the engine, not wanting to break eye contact with a snowman. The black charcoal eyes stared back at me, as the engine began to rev and I drove away, unsure what else to do.

Would anyone believe me if I told them? Driving down the street, my rational mind began to make up excuses instantly. You were so tired, you just didn't see it in the dark, my brain told me. Snowmen don't move themselves. It's just the local college kids moving it around, playing pranks on the neighbours. Living snowmen, that's ridiculous. These things don't happen in real life. The day passed quickly while I was at work.

We were so busy that I didn't even think about the snowman for most of the day until I was leaving and getting in my car to drive home. I had fully convinced myself at that point it was all just the kids playing pranks that I'd just been tired and hadn't noticed they moved the snowman into the divide between my house and bills. We live in the semi-houses that are connected together in the middle so we share this small, narrow lawn between our driveways.

I pulled up to our house The evening light, now completely gone, and replaced by the darkness of night. My stomach was rumbling with hunger after a long day at work, and I began to park. Then I stopped in my tracks. The snowman had moved again. Now it was right in the driveway, blocking it so I couldn't park. It's just college kids, I told myself, and parked on the street instead. I walked back to the house, feeling uneasy as a snowman glared at me, appraising me as I came closer.

The creature's head was lowered like a bull about a charge, and I could barely make out his eyes looking right at me from beneath its brow, hateful and staring. The effect was terrifying, making him look demonic and malicious somehow. Something else caught my eye. For the first time I had ever seen, Bill's driveway was not perfectly cleared of snow. His sidewalk likewise had a few inches piled up on it. This was very strange, considering how meticulous he was with his household upkeep. There was also something else too.

His garage door was slightly ajar and the lights was on inside. There was a sound coming from the interior that I didn't like one bit. It was like the sound my cat made when eating wet food. sloppy, snarthing and dribbling. I couldn't help it. Despite my fear, I was overwhelmed with curiosity and needed to see what was making that horrible noise. It sounded large and inhuman,

and I needed to know for certain if my suspicions were correct. Walking past the hideous snowman, I pulled open the carriage door and gasped, horrified at what had been revealed behind it. The usually well-kept garage was in disarray. Shovels, axes and sores had been knocked from their organised places and were strewn everywhere. Bags of salt and soil had been spilled and the light bulb hanging from the ceiling was off his axes, crooked and flickering. And at the centre of all of this was Bill.

Or at least what remained of him. He had been eviscerated and disemboweled the top half of his body. now completely separated from the legs, his torso were cavity of mangled flesh and ruined organs. Surrounding Bill were several of the snow creatures, now horizontal and standing on all six legs like giant insects. They were feasting on his visceral and vital organs. They acted like a pack of wolves,

tearing him apart and rending flesh from bone, snapping at one another greedily as they fought over the choicest muscles. I saw Bill's eyes were still open, and he was blinking. Somehow alive, despite all of this, his mouth making soft bubbling, gurgling sounds, as blood poured out from between his lips. Then there was a soft, crunching noise behind me,

and I spun around to see the other snowman creature from outside. He was crawling up behind me like a giant spider, creeping so quietly across the snow, I had barely heard it. It saw me and hissed the warning to the others, who likewise turned and hissed. hissed like cats. They began to skitter across the cement floor towards me, as the other one did the same, even closer to striking. Terrified, I searched the nearby space for a weapon.

A snow shovel caught my eye, and I grabbed it and spun with it in my hand. It made contact with the face of the creature, just as it was leaping at my midsection with his branch-like arms outstretched. The feeling was like taking a swing at a brick wall, and the handle rattled and vibrated in my hand painfully after the impact. But it seemed to do the trick. The creature's teeth were crooked and his head deformed from the blow, and it made a noise like an injured dog as retreated and ran from the house. The other three creatures were momentarily stunned by my attack on their lookout,

but they regained their composure quickly, seeing I was outnumbered. They raced toward me and panicked, throwing the shovel at the one in front like a javelin. The blade of the shovel cut through the creature's face like a knife through, butter, exposing its eleanoid brain matter. A fountain of green blood began to splurt like a geyser from his exposed brainstem, and it crumpled dead to the floor. Two of them were left, but I was without a weapon now, and they sensed their opportunity.

They moved towards me, and only had a few moments to think of a way to respond. They were far too quick to outrun. I never make it to my house or my car. Then the snowblower caught my eye. I remembered when Bill had bought the damn noisy thing. He bragged about it for months, showing off its features to anyone who would listen. He was particularly fond of the push-button start mechanism. No more pulling a starter cord over and over in the freezing weather Jordan.

This baby is top of the line, he told me one day excitedly, demonstrating it for me. With no other options, I grabbed it quickly and pulled out the choke, then tipped it over and hit the green start button, just as the creatures dove at me, the jaws wide open and dripping with blood. I wetched my feet between the base and lifted the snowblower up a few feet into the air with all my effort.

The creatures had never encountered anything like a snowblower, I guess, since it caught them completely off guard. One of them jumped right into it, sending green blood jetting from the top of the machine and spraying it all over me and the ceiling above. I was left with just one of the creatures who no longer seemed to like the odds after having seen me murder three of his friends.

It escaped out the carriage door and I was left alone in the cold, breathing heavily and feeling utterly exhausted. Bill took one last shuddering breath himself and was completely still after that. I stumbled out of the carriage, feeling like I had fallen into another world. I looked around and saw I was alone.

trembling from fear and shaking from the cold, I was about to pull out my phone to call the police. But then I heard the soft crunching sound again, this time not just from one place, but from all around. Following the sounds, I looked around to see not one, but dozens of the snowmen creatures coming from all around, from every direction, drawn in by the calls of their injured comrades. They flooded the street. My house was blocked by one of them, and more moved in from the other side, but the way to my car was still clear. I ran to it as fast as I could, opening the door and climbing inside quickly. I started it and peeled out of the parking spot, just as they surrounded my car and began to hammer on the windows, their branch arms squealing and scraping across the glass. Fleeing the neighbourhood, I got to a safe spot and called my wife.

There was no answer. The local police weren't picking up either. I'm trying to sort at my thoughts now, trying to figure out what to do next, but it seems like no matter what I do, the outcome will be the same. These things multiply too fast. They're too strong and too quick. I hope my wife is okay. I'm building up the courage to go back and try find her.

I wish more than anything I'd stay to fight, just so I would know she's all right. And so that I could give her this message. Christine, if you're hearing this. Bill said, we can borrow his snowblower. Every year around the Christmas holidays, magical things always seem to happen. Some things are marvellous and joyful,

like visits from Santa or a snowman coming alive. Many people say they can feel the Christmas magic in the air or around them. Some things aren't so joyful. Around Christmas every year, kidnappings, murder and suicide rates go up drastically as well. Even when horrid things like this happen, people often feel, yet rarely do they admit that they still feel a kind of holiday magic behind it, although be it a dark magic. One example comes from a Christmas demon known as the crampus. The crampus is well known in countries like Germany and Switzerland.

for taking naughty children in the dead of Christmas Eve night. Here is one such account. December 6th, 2013. My name is Eli Rockford. I'm currently seven years old as I write this. I confide in this journal something I can't tell my family, because they would never believe me. I'm often told that I'm very smart for my age,

because I say and do things that most kids my age don't. But if I tell a strange story, no matter how hard I get them to believe me, my parents and siblings say it's just my imagination. Today I looked out my window into the street by a house and saw a man who looked like a shadow with horns. His eyes glowed orange and seeing him scared me a lot. He was ringing a bunch of bells for something,

but I just tried to ignore him and sleep. Then I heard a knock on the door. I went down to see who it was for Mommy and Daddy. but when I got to the door someone stuck a card through our mail slot and ran off really quickly the card had a picture of a monster who had bull legs a tail

and horns on a scary looking goat head that looked half human I was so scared that it was the thing in the street but I didn't know what to do I think I know what it is but I hope I'm wrong the bottom of the card said

Goulos van campus Daddy says every year crampus punishes bad boys and girls on Christmas, but Santa gives good boys and girls toys. So, now I'm not so scared. I always get toys on Christmas, so I must be a good kid. I still didn't tell him about the thing on the street. December 24th, 2013. My parents will be gone for most of tonight and Christmas morning tomorrow for some stupid work thing they both have.

We usually have Christmas at six, but we have to wait for mommy and daddy to get home first. Mom told Brad, my oldest brother, that we would have a babysitter because she didn't trust him to watch all five of us by himself. Mom often let Brad watch us, but we had broke a lot of things the last couple of times we were left alone. So, Mom said she would get Rebecca to watch us. Rebecca came to the house at five. She was very pretty, and Brad couldn't stop seeing her. staring at her.

Mommy and daddy left a couple of minutes after Rebecca got here. This was the first time Rebecca had watched six kids at the same time before, and I don't think she knew what she was getting herself into. My younger sister, Molly, who's three, threw a tantrum after our parents left. Levi and Garrett, my younger twin brothers, who were both five, started fighting. Brad talked to Rebecca most of the night, and Rachel spent most of the night in a room. Mom and Dad said we would still get Christmas gifts tomorrow but we had to wait to open them until they got home

We made hot cocoa with a cocoa maker his broke So the hot chocolate burnt our mouths And we all got candy canes too Rebecca started to put us to bed at 8 And finally succeeded at 9.30 Even though she was clearly exhausted and frustrated with us She told us she had fun And that she wouldn't have spent Christmas Eve any other

the way. I awoke in the dead of night at about 11 to see a crimson moon casting a dim, red glow on the winter snow. I looked at my bedroom window and saw a red object coming towards our house, fast. It was hard to make out, but it looked like a red sleigh being pulled by reindeer. I instantly recognised this as Santa's sleigh and ran to hide on the stairs and waited for him to come down the chimney anxiously. Out to the window to the right of a fireplace, I saw the slave fly overhead and heard many hooves trotting on the roof. I made sure to remain perfectly still and silent as a mouse.

I waited for what felt like an eternity while soft footsteps echoed on the roof above me, getting closer to the chimney. I heard scuffling as ash and dust started falling from the fireplace. Soon, two black boots landed. Then the rest of jolly old St. Nick came through the fireplace with a bag of toys on his back. Without speaking a word, he went straight to our tree.

He took gifts from his bag and scattered them under our little plastic evergreen, then started on the milk and cookies we left for him. I felt that I had held my breath the entire time I was hiding on the stairs. I couldn't believe I was spying on the real Santa Claus in my own home. Eventually, he made his way over to our stockings and started putting various nicknames. and candies in our stockings, starting with Molly. When he got to Levi, he took out a small black rock and eyed it sadly, before placing it in Levi's stocking.

It took me a second to realize that he gave Levi coal. I tried to stifle a laugh to the best of my abilities, but a small squeak escaped my lips anyway. Santa turned around and scanned the room. I remained as still as ever. He turned back to the stockings. this time keeping his back to me, and put a piece of coal in Garrett's stocking too.

He put a candy cane and Brad stocking, along with a pocket knife. Rachel got a new phone and some Kit Katz. Finally, he moved to my stocking, which is always the furthest to the right, even though I'm the middle child. He began rummaging through his sack, and I leaned forward excitedly to see what presents I was getting. Santa pulled out a large, Jet Black,

piece of coal and stuffed it into my stocking. I felt a wave of anger, sadness and regret all at once. I almost stood up right then to tell off the jolly old elf, but when he turned around, I saw tears in his eyes. He looked as if he was filled with similar emotions as I was, like he didn't want to have to give bad kids coal. It was for this reason that I remained quiet as Santa climbed back up my chimney, got into his sleigh and flew away. I watched out my downstairs window as the sleigh flew from the roof and into the black abyss of Christmas night. I sat there still in place for a very long time pondering how it could be a better child next year

when I spotted something out of the window again. It looked like the same figure I'd seen before but this time the sleigh looked as if it was black. I wrote this off as it was really dark outside except for the moon's red glow. I wondered why Santa would come back. Maybe he forgot something. Maybe I wasn't naughty, and he was on his way back to fix this mistake.

My mind was racing from one thought to another as I began to hype myself up for all my possible Christmas presents. I stopped watching the window and had begun to daydream about the next morning, until hooves on the roof interrupted my thoughts. I heard loud, heavy clacking this time as he got closer to the chimney. Ash began to fall down the chimney, creating her dark cloud around the fireplace, as what I assumed to be Santa began coming down and landed with a loud clash. My final thought before seeing what came next was, how has no one noticed all of this? Through the cloud of thick black ash protruded two large horns with stripes of red and white, like those of a candy canes. As the dust settled, the rest of the figure was revealed.

His skin was a pale, icy looking blue. His beard was like Santa's, except it was black and came to a point. His nose was long and his face looked grizzled, but more human than I thought. His horns looked like they could touch the ceiling if he jumped. His body looked human in shape, but animal in appearance. His legs were twisted and ended in hooves, like that of a ball. He had a long tail. His torso was contorted and,

everything but his face and palms were covered in fur. He had broken chains around his wrist, and what looked like a heavy red Christmas ornament attached to his tail by another chain. His ears were pointed, and so were his yellow teeth. Despite his horrid, outlandish appearance, the most noticeable thing about the creature

were its bells that it wore, and the basket on his back that had the limp arm of a child hanging from it. The stories were true. And so is Crampus. I couldn't believe my eyes. I'd seen slays go by, magic reindeer fly overhead,

and had even seen Santa Claus himself. But none of that could have prepared me for the beast that is Crampus. He moved around the room with such speed that I was caught off guard. This thing looked about eight feet tall without its horns, and with them he towered over everything

in our large home. He made his way to the fireplace and took the coal from Levi's stocking. He rolled it around in his long, bony fingers for a moment, then took the coal from Garrett's stocking, then finally mine. He studied the coal for a moment, a wide smile full of pointy, yellow teeth beamed across his face.

Nauty little children, I heard it say in a cold, wrespy voice. A shiver ran at my spine as he. It spoke. I was paralyzed in both fear and awe at the creature that roamed my living room beneath me I thought he was moving towards the tree but it walked past it and started going down the hallway into

into Levi and Garrett's room I remember the things my father used to say about it that he whips bad kids takes them away sometimes he eats them sometimes he shakes them and scares them into being good all these horrid thoughts and more dance through my head as the monster crept into the twins' room. I tried to scream with all my might,

but no sound would escape my mouth, as I finally was able to choke out, Levi, Garrett! screams had already filled their room. Levi came running out of his room, screaming his head off as Garrett followed suit. The creature's long, twisted arm, reached out from the room and grabbed Garrett's leg,

pulling him back into the room. I stood up from my spot on the stairs and motion for Levi to come to me. Garrett's screams fell silent. The crampus emerged from the room alone. His nose seems shorter now, his face even more deformed now. I gripped Levi's hand tightly and we ran for Brad's room. I wailed on his door again and again, but he wouldn't come out.

I would have tried harder to get his attention, but I could hear it coming up the stairs as each hoof hit each step. I took Levi to the laundry room and told him to hide in the laundry chute. Once he was inside, I began lowing the laundry hamper so he could get downstairs without confronting the monster. Before he was lowered out of sight, I told Levi to go start the hot coca maker because I had a plan.

He nodded, and once he got to the bottom, I felt the hamper get lighter as he climbed out. I heard the hoof footsteps getting louder and closer to the laundry room. I began pulling the laundry hamper up and climbed in just as the door was violently flung open. despite the locks on it. The beast licked his lips with his long, skinny tongue, and he slowly approached my trembling body inside the hamper.

I began to bounce myself and rock the hamper, as crampas got closer and closer. The hamper wouldn't fall, no matter how hard I rocked it, and the creature was nearly upon me. I felt its breath on me as it excitedly panted, getting further. I expected his breath to be hot like that other dogs. But instead, it felt like the coldest winter chill caressing my skin. I shook the whole hamper as savagely as I could, before it finally budged.

The hamper fell, and before I knew it, I was on the first floor. I crawled out of the chute and ran to the kitchen as the demon rampaged upstairs. As I came into the kitchen, I noticed no signs of my little brother, but I did see that the hot cocoa maker was on. The stomping of the creature upstairs continued, but didn't seem to be near the stairs, so I focused on finding Levi. He wasn't hiding in any cabinets,

and he wasn't anywhere in the living room. I decided that he might be in his room, so I quietly creeped to it slowly, but steadily. The twins' room was trashed entirely, and Levi wasn't there. There was blood on the wall. I shuddered to think that it once belonged to my baby brother. A small bloody hambrothered.

was smeared on the wall by the door. Dread was all that I could feel in that moment. Dread for misbehaving all year. Dread for what had become of my little brother. And dread for the silence that fell in place of hooves stomping around upstairs. I quickly and silently made my way back to the kitchen and took out a large coffee pitcher of scolding hot cocoa.

As I crept out of the kitchen into the living room, I had an ominous feeling of dread as if I were being watched. I could barely see in the dark of the night, and I couldn't locate our light switches. The only source of light I had was the dim, eerie glow of the lights from the Christmas tree. As I scanned all entrances to the dining room, something moving caught my eye. The chandelier had began to start swinging as if something had bumped it or hit it. There was a soft thudding that accompanied the squeaking of the rocking corona, as I looked around to make out another vague shape in the glow of the Christmas lights.

I saw what bumped the chandelier. The monster was crawling on my ceiling like a large, twisted spider. His arms were bent in excruciating looking ways to grip the ceiling and watch me with his eyes that burn like fire. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs at the very sight of it, but instead I held my ground. A cool smile spread across the face. of the creature who was stalking me.

He undug his fingers from the ceiling and landed on the floor in front of me with a thunderous crash, mere inches away from me. This was his mistake. I threw the entire picture of burning hot cocoa on his face and the beast immediately started writhing in agony.

He took his hands off of his face as it began to melt and peel off, the bits of flesh and blood melting away to reveal his horrible skull, with its eyes still in their sockets. It froze for a while, and for a brief moment, I was happily assured and content that the crampus was dead. But then it only started cackling and awful and disturbingly malevolent laugh.

It pierced my ears like knives and loomed over me to instill as much fear as it could. It was working. Before my very eyes, the muscles around the creature's skulls started to grow back, and in seconds its new face had formed. It looked more like a goat with pointy teeth than a human, but you could still partially see it in there. Its beard was still as long as before, but now it looked almost out of place on the demonic beast's head.

I turned and ran behind the Christmas tree, avoiding the abominations lanky arms as I ran by. The crampus immediately started coming towards the tree, intent on harming me. I pushed a large plastic evergreen on the monster, and ran back upstairs to find my little brother. I wailed on my other siblings' doors, but no one would wake up,

no matter how hard I pounded on their doors. Everyone locks the doors to their room when we go to sleep, so we're not bothered. But the doors are also heavy, and not much sound get through them. I began to shout for Levi as loud as I could, hoping he'd respond. Then Levi appeared at the top of the stairs.

We stared at each other. He looked terrified and sad. I started to walk towards him when suddenly my baby brother was impaled by the crampus his horns. His body was thrust it up and thrust around by the savage creature as he convulsed and shook spastically on his horns.

I've seen people die in TV before but watching it in real life is entirely different. No one should have to go through it. My brother didn't deserve that. No one deserves that. Santa and Christmas are about love and cheer. Crampus made Christmas about hatred and retribution. I watched helplessly while the thing ripped my brother's shaking body from its horns

and dropped his lifeless body into the basket on his back. The demon began to strut towards me with malicious intentions, so I ducked into Mom and Dad's empty room and opened the top right drawer in my dad's dresser. I wasn't told enough to see what I was reaching for, but when I felt it, I pulled out my dad's pistol. I opened the other dresser and had put two bullets into the pistol by the time the creature burst open the door. I shot twice and hit it both times, but it was unfazed by the bullets. The loud noise clearly hurt both our ears and the monster clawed at his ears while screaming in pain.

I began to quickly crawl towards the window until something long, thin, tight and slimy gripped my right leg and began pulling me back. I looked behind me to my terror to see the crampus was using its incredibly long tongue to pull me to its mouth full of sharp jagged teeth. I began to breathe in and out quicker and quicker and began panicking as my foot got closer to its mouth. I lifted my left leg and kicked it in the face twice before its tongue finally loosened. Before I could breathe, crampas picked me up and began shaking me wildly. I kicked him a second time, this time with my right foot. and he flung me into the hallway where I began limping away. I had reached the end of the hallway when I heard a loud, popping crack sound.

Moments before feeling a sharp sting all across my back. I looked back and saw that the holiday devil had whipped me with a whip like an iron tamer would use. I felt the warm ooze onto my back as the new pain started setting in. I started to limp away to safety when I was picked up by crampers again. His long cold fingers wrapped from my back and stung my cut even worse He looked at me right in the eye Before lifting me behind him

And dropping me onto the birch basket on his back On the outside of the basket It looked like he could only fit a couple of kids inside But the inside was massive I fell into a mountain of bodies There were hundreds or thousands of kids In that one basket piled on each other Not all alive

where you couldn't see the other kids which made up the trembling ground you saw only darkness. No sounds could be heard from inside or outside really either. Kids would scream, mutter, shout until their throats clearly hurt but no sounds came from their mouths. Every time I thought the situation couldn't get any worse, it got way worse. I waited what felt like a millennia to escape

as new kids would fall in and join the confusion to show how much time passed. Eventually, the crampus reached into the basket and began to pull out another child. His arm became larger as he reached in the basket and stretched out to a panicked girl. I grabbed onto a leg and let myself be carried to salvation. When we were pulled from the basket,

I let go of the kid and fell behind crampus. He didn't notice I escaped. He was too focused on the girl. He looked at the small girl for a small girl. second, before biting into a flesh with his large, sharp teeth. I never knew the kid's name before the creature devoured her, but I owe her my life for helping me escape. I backed away slowly from behind, as Crampus feasted on fellow children at its dinner table.

I had no idea where I was now, but it was dark and it was cold. I think it's where the creature lives. After the monster was finished eating, he picked up a small wooden box. open the top and spat something that glowed a bright green into it. He then took the box over to a rusted two-first that he opened, entered, then left a few minutes later without the box. He then left the room, leaving the child remains on a large platter and a rusty door to my curiosity.

I opened the door to see dozens of more wooden boxes. I also saw many creepy-looking porcelain dolls and other creepy toys. The door behind me closed And I was emerged in total darkness I got out my phone And used it to barely light my way I walked past a jack in the box With a scary face

I walked past the baby doll That looked withered and old I found a sack doll That looked like a creepy rotting skeleton too I thought it was like Santa's rejected toy shop Until I found the word Misfits smeared in red paint next to a clown

With a skull for a head Blue eyes in its size sockets and big, fleshy hands. I was terrified someone else was caught in that room before. When I got closer to the clown, they jumped towards me and yelled, Wanna play?

I got scared and jumped back as the clown led out a scary laugh. I heard scurrying and tiny footsteps of other toys from all around. I started catching the dolls and gingerbread men turning their heads as I ran along the walls, trying to relocate the door.

I found another message. on the wall. Why can't we die? Was scratched into the wall by something. I wanted nothing more than for this night to end. When I located the door, I bolted for it as soon as I saw it, but was tripped by a toy soldier with realistic burns on half of his face. I kicked the tiny hunk of plastic away, moved closer to the door,

when a deformed baby doll appeared from the darkness and sank a teeth into my leg. I felt a surge of pain and fell to the ground. I furiously punched the doll's head repeatedly until it unlocked its tiny teeth from my flesh. The post and atrocity screwed off as other terrible toys danced around me in the darkness. More and more of them kept popping up and coming out of...

Out of the boxes, like the one that crampers spat the glowing thing into. The toys began muttering words, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. The muttering got louder and louder until I understood some of the words. Feel our pain. He killed us, but not entirely. He gobbled me up and spat my soul into a puppet.

Kill us, let us die. The things they said were dreadful to say the least. I got up and started to make my way to the door as a doll's chanted more obscene things to me. We're going to eat you alive like he ate us. I'm going to rip up. your eyes. Although they continued to chant, none of them came towards me again as I moved around the dark room.

I saw a small toy skeleton in Santa's clothes with a beard moved by. A puppet with many now sticking out of its wooden head was strung up to the ceiling, moving and wrestling with its strings. I spotted a stool that was pulled up to a workbench with tools and a teddy bear on it. The teddy bear had real bear claws sticking from his paws and real human teeth in his mouth. I reasoned that this was Cranbys' Demented Toy Shop and decided to leave before it was too late. I walked past the bench to the door and started pulling on the rusty metal handle. The door was extremely heavy, but slowly budged and started opening as I pulled back with all my might.

Light began to bathe the room and the misfit toys dashed to the shadows to avoid the light. I ran from the dark room, closed the door behind me and leaned on it for a while to catch. my bearings. I looked around at the only other room in this place that was familiar to me. I went by the long table the monster ate the nameless girl at, trying not to think about it, trying to think of something else, anything to distract me from the horrors I've bared witness to on the most unsuspecting and happiest time of year. I walked to an open door and poked only half my head out to scan the perimeter of the room. It led to a large room that had various whips, sores, and and other torture devices.

I crept in and kept to the wall. I spotted three dark wooden doors amongst the darkness and concrete walls. I also found a window and the snow outside was falling so slowly, so peacefully. Two doors were on one large wall opposite of the window

and the other was on the wall to the right of the window. I first tried one of the doors on the long wall but had decided beforehand to go to the door on the right of the window thinking it would leave me closer to a door out or something. The walls were lined with racks and the racks were lined with hellish masks. Some had horns, some had long serpent tongue sticking out. Some had teeth.

Some had patches of skin. Some had antlers. One was a weird skull with antlers and the antlers had lit candles on them. It was so strange. The room was so large. The other door led to the same room. I left without moving the door in fear that closing the head. heavy door would create noise and would lead the creature to me.

I walked alongside the wall to avoid the equipment straight to the only door I had left. I opened the door slowly and with caution. The first thing in the room I noticed was a strange tree that looked like an upside-down purple Christmas tree. The trunk was on the bottom, but the pines and branches looked upside down. The tree was decorated with red and green lights and small bones. There was another window in this room, but it was on the same side as the last. It was an open doorway that led to a hallway that teed off and two signs labeled the directions. The right one said surveillance room and the left one said stables.

I went to the stables, thinking I might be able to find a reindeer to fly out of this place with. It seems like a silly plan now in hindsight. I opened the stable doors and awful smells invaded my night. nostrils immediately. There was frost on the floor as well. There were eight stables lined up along the wall to the right, each with demonic reindeer heads sticking out. Below each head was the door to the stall,

each with pendants of names in them. I read the names out loud as I started down the row. Each reindeer was grotesque in their own right. One or two had exposed skulls, each had jagged teeth, some had mains and others had dried blood on their fur. Seven other eyes glowed red. Slasher, I said as I passed the first one. Rathful, Gorgon, putrid, Cyclops.

Cyclops was missing one fiery eye. Rabies, goner. The last monstrous reindeer looked like a hellish rudolph. His head held flames that dance from its gnarled snout to the back of its mane. Between its sharpened, bloody antlers, furiously flicked bolts of electricity. Blitzkrieg. I decided riding one was out of the question and began searching for an exit. I realised the only door to the room was the one I came from.

I looked all over the room, looking for some other way out, and saw the reason for the cold. The top crease and upper part of one of the walls was missing, and then outside. It was far too high to reach. I left the stable room and went into the surveillance room. The handle felt icy cold as I slowly opened the door. The room, like all the rest, was large. One wall was covered with monitors. The bottom middle monitor stuck out more than the rest

and had a keyboard below it. The chair was also pulled up to it. Each screen had various kits on it, some in dreadful conditions, others minding their own business. No sound came from the monitors, but I started to notice. I was hearing a ticking noise. A clock above the door I came in read,

5.45. Christmas Day didn't start in my house until 6 o'clock. The opposite of the monitors had many names scratched into it. I wondered if the dead girl's name was scratched into the wall. A door that red exit was to the right of the monitors, but the computer said, Search name. I sat in a large chair and typed in Garrett Rockford.

A nutcracker that had two bodies attached from the sides of his head popped up. Each body seemed to be trying to yank away from the other. Its face looked like he was in pain, and it had the same colour of eyes as Levi and Garrett. I looked up Levi Rockford, and the same thing popped up. I sat, frozen in awe for a moment. Tears filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks. The ticking of the clock seemed to turn into clopping as I sobbed.

I was crying more than a half. ever cried before. I cried so hard I began hearing a ringing. Then the chair I was in spun around and I was face to face with crampus. He looked menacing and insidiously sinister. His horns were partly covered in blood. His long fingers looked sharp and his eyes burned like never before. He waved his long, sharp, bony finger at me and tisked. Nauty, naughty, naughty. He said cruelly and mockingly. He licked my face with his incredibly long tongue. Then began to wrap it around my throat.

He started constricting his tongue and choking me. I was gurgling and coughing and struggling did close to nothing. I started feeling weak and weaker as my head heated up and my lungs screened for air. My vision even started to become blurred. Then I knew if I didn't do something quickly. I was going to die. I punched him in the face with all my might and knocked him back for only a brief moment

as his tongue recoiled into his mouth. I utilised my time and ran toward the exit. I felt the ground shake directly behind me as heavy hooves shook the floor violently in their wake. I pushed the door open and ran into the freezing cold as my pursuer followed suit. I ran until I was knee-deep in snow

until a lanky hand gripped me and started dragging me back. The dark sky slowly lit as the sun started to emerge from the bottom horizon. The crampus stopped dragging me. He dropped me and stared briefly at the rising sun. I'll come get you again, he said as he dropped to my leg and retreated to his lair as I lay in the snow. A silhouetted figure came from a distance. I closed my eyes for what felt like seconds But when I opened my eyes

The sun was higher in the sky And the figure was closer I could make out that he was wearing red Then I passed out They opened my eyes to see an outstretched hand With a black mitton on it He belonged to a fat, bearded man With a silly hat

Santa I inquired Sh child He said in a soft, soothing voice, I'll take you home. The next thing I remember was waking up in my bed at home.

Levi and Garrett were kidnapped in the middle of the night. I found out from Rebecca, Brad and Molly who already told our parents and the cops. I tried to tell them what really happened, but no one believed me. They only got mad when I tried to explain it to them.

So, I gave up on trying to tell them. And that's how I spent my Christmas.