CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Every year my family is visited by Frau Perchta" Creepypasta
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I can still remember my mother's luck when I told her I wanted to invite Lucy to spend the holidays with us.
She throwed her brow in that way she did when she thinks something is a bad idea.
Are you sure you want to invite Lucy, dear?
Of course I'm sure. She's my best friend, Mom.
She let the water run over her hands for a few seconds, washing the potatoes she'd been making for dinner.
I know she's your best friend, but Lucy can be a little...
She seemed to contemplate her words.
much sometimes. How long will she be staying?
This was an odd question for my mother, usually charitable, but I knew that it was the time of year that had a nervous.
It was the 29th of December, Christmas now in the rearview mirror and new years looming on the horizon,
and my family was four days into celebrating the 12th nights of Christmas.
My family is Christian, but the sect we belong to believes in the significance of the 12th night.
The 12th night was marked by the Feast of Epiphany.
We spend most of the day at service, singing songs and praising God,
but at night we hold a large meal, and Mother always makes a total to celebrate the occasion.
That's also the night that Frau Pekta visits us,
and that can be a tumultuous time all its own.
Not a lot of people celebrate the 12th night.
Christmas is usually the highlight of the season,
but is a religious tradition my mother and father brought from
France when they moved here, and it's been a part of my life for so long that it just seems normal to me.
To my knowledge, Lucy's family was not religious at all, so Lucy was looking forward to seeing
what our holidays were like. Her family will be back in the 10th, just in time for the end of
Christmas break, I said, almost pleading with her not to reconsider.
My mother looked at her potatoes as she worked. She knows that it's not all fun and games, right?
We go to church a lot on those days
and the celebration is mostly religious.
I nodded.
Yes, I assured her,
she knows it's not all fun in games.
That was a complete lie.
Lisa had been interested in my family's quaint holiday customs
and I tried to tell her how this time of year
was important to my family.
There had been a lot of questions in my class
about the 12th night of Christmas.
I had told them how it had to do with the nativity play
and less to do with the song.
how we had the traditional tortel, a pastry with a pea in it,
and how if you found the pea, you got to be the queen for the evening?
I usually found it, and my parents made a game of me being queen for the night
and parading me around the house.
Lastly, I told them about Frau Purchter,
the old woman who would visit on the 12th night and give out presents to good children.
I believe this was the reason that Lucy wanted to stay with me,
instead of Chelsea or Maggie.
Lucy saw an opportunity to get a kind of second Christmas
and wanted to use my holiday to get more presents.
I wasn't too offended by this idea.
I liked extra gifts too,
but the idea of using Frau Pöchter to get to them
made me feel a little funny.
Not guilty, but not good either.
Lucy was used to dealing with a kind and generous gift giver,
but Frouppeter was not a benevolent jolly being.
The frouwrault was a little bit of a little,
scary, and I'd only just gotten comfortable around her myself.
She was a gift-giving entity, which was nice, but she was also a stick that my parents
would use to correct me when I was bad.
Unlike Santa, the Frau was not just a Christmas entity either.
The Frau was always watching, always judging, always judging, and they would use her year-round
when I stepped out of line.
Better behave, Frau Purtter will see.
But they can be back, you wouldn't want me to tell the frau.
better get to sleep before Frau Perkter knows you're naughty.
I'd never incur the wrath of the frow,
but Mum had said she would switch me if I were naughty,
and she told stories of a sister that had gone missing
after being especially willful one year.
Frau Pergter was a coin with two faces,
and one of those faces, her teeth.
Mom nodded stiffly.
Far peat from me to turn away guests during the holidays,
just make sure she's on her best behaviour,
You know how the frow feels about willful children.
I shuddered as she said the word, remembering the sister she had never seen again.
Lucy arrived two days later, and her parents thanked mine for agreeing to let her stay.
They were going to see friends out of town, places where Lucy would be relegated to a backroom of strange children while their parents gathered.
They offered my parents money for her food and board, but they waved it away.
Lucy was our guest
and they were glad to have her
her parents smiled at that
kissed their daughter goodbye
and they were off to the airport to catch their flight
my parents and I helped Lucy up to my
room Lucy having brought
enough luggage for a month
and I showed her the cot we had set up for her
and the spot in my closet I had emptied for her
she made appreciative noises
right up until my parents left
and then scoffed at the idea of sleeping
on a saggy old cot.
I saw her eyeball in my canopy bed
before she made her intentions known.
As a guest,
it would be only generous for you to let me use your bed.
But then, where would I sleep?
I asked, not quite understanding to trade off.
There was no way we could share the bed.
The mattress felt too small for me sometimes.
I looked at the floor,
but wrinkle my nose at the idea of sleeping there.
I wasn't a messy child,
but sleeping in the floor seemed like a great way to roll over.
over on a Lego or a Barbie shoe.
Well, why didn't you sleep on the cot?
It'll be like being on a holiday, she said,
sitting a bag on the foot of the bed
and telling me about the barbies she'd brought to play with
and DVDs she had for us to watch
as I took my princess blanket and pillow
and set it on the cot.
This was going to be a long few weeks.
My mother thought it was very sweet of me
to let Lucy use the bed.
I smiled and told her
who's the right thing to do for a guest.
But the cart was lumpy, and I slept poorly.
I thought mean things at Lucy every time I saw her snug in my bed,
but I was careful to cut those kinds of thoughts off pretty quickly.
Such things might be willful,
and I wasn't sure if Frau Pugter could read minds,
and I wasn't in a big hurry to find out either.
The first week went by pretty quickly.
Lucy and I played with dolls, watched cartoons in our PJs,
helped mum around the house,
and spent our nights giggling or telling secrets.
Lucy was always polite and well-behaved around my parents,
but she was a bit of a brat in private.
Lucy complained that our food was too bland,
our house too cold,
and that the services we dragged her to every night were too dull.
I had seen my father shoot her some dark looks
as she sat in the pew beside me and sighed or fidgeted,
but he was too kind to ever say much.
She seemed to find our services quaint but boring,
I was always ready to go when it was time to leave.
On New Year's, Mom and Dad let us stay up with them till midnight
and toast the New Year with sparkling cider.
We sat in front of the TV, watching the New Year special
and waiting for the ball to drop.
Lucy told me about how, last year,
she and her parents had been in Paris for the New Year
and her mother had let her drink some of her champagne
when the clock struck midnight.
I asked her what it tasted like,
and she said,
low so my parents didn't hear her.
It tasted better than this gross juice,
and stuck her tongue out as she laughed.
She went to set a glass down,
and I saw it tip over and spill onto the carpet.
She picked it up quickly,
and my mother saw the stain before she saw the glass.
Oh no, who spilled grape juice on my carpet?
Lucy pointed the finger at me.
It was an accident, ma'am.
She didn't mean to.
I started to become indignant,
but Lucy gave me a pitiful look that communicated clearly
that she didn't want to get in trouble.
I didn't say anything,
and Mom made me get a towel to help clean it up.
When they yelled,
Happy New Year!
I looked at it quickly,
having missed the ball drop as I dabbed at the spot.
I didn't whisper to her that night,
and I think she knew I wasn't happy with her.
The second week was the worst.
Lucy began to complain about the daily trips
church, and even my father's good mood was starting to stretch thin.
We had a neighbor who agreed to watch her while we went to church.
I was honestly a little glad for the time away from Lucy.
Her outbursts and snarky attitude were funny at school, usually making teachers grind their teeth
and other students laugh.
At home, she just came off as a brat and kind of mean to boot.
After that, she mostly laid around in her pajamas and did what she wanted.
Her complaints about our food, it being too bland, or being the same thing every day, was starting to wear on my mother as well, and I could see her counting the days until Lucy's parents came to get her.
My mum became a little weird when Lucy was concerned.
I heard her calling her parents a few times, telling them how Lucy missed them and had asked when they were coming back.
Lucy had made no such claims.
She was clearly enjoying being our guest, and her parents coming back was the farthest thing from a moment.
mind. Despite Mom's best efforts, it appeared that Lucy would be with us through the weekend.
Mom didn't seem happy about this, and I wondered if she was worried about what the flower would make of
Lucy. I wasn't happy with Lucy, but I didn't want her to disappear. The day of the 12th night
arrived, and the house was filled with low excitement. Mom and Dad were cleaning wildly,
mom taking breaks to cook the meal for tonight, and Lucy and I were relegated.
to my bedroom so the house would stay clean.
Lucy complained about this, of course,
and kept asking me questions about the feast.
What kind of food would we have?
When would the princess cake be served?
Which is what she had started calling the total.
Would the frowl be here to give presents before or after the meal?
Would we have to go to church to get the gifts?
She went on and on
until I finally told her I didn't know,
or it would depend.
I was tired of her being here,
and I kind of wanted her to leave.
Before service that night
Mom had the food ready for our return
and laid the turtle out under a bowl to cool
The sitter made a way over
giving Lucy a look like she regretted promising to watch her
And we left a church
The Christmas service was always beautiful
The choir sang hymns
And Mom had made me a beautiful white dress for the service
The pastor read a beautiful service
About the birth of Christ and his representation to the temple
He talked about how to the church,
on the day of Epiphany, the 12th day.
It was revealed that Jesus was the incarnation of God, the Father,
and how this was a momentous occasion for the people,
so they could have a personal relationship
and not one dependent on the temple or the priests.
I listen intently, having heard the story before,
but always enjoying the past stories about the life of Christ.
I was a little sad when it ended,
knowing that I would have to go back to Lucy and a meanness.
I close my eyes before leaving.
and asked Jesus to help me.
I asked him to take his burden away from me,
which was something I had heard people
asked for before.
Maybe I should have been more careful with that prayer.
Lucy was dressed in a similar white dress when we got home,
a gift from my family to her for the feast.
The sitter left, waving and thanking my mother
for the ten dollars she had handed her,
but going in a hurry without a backward glance.
Lucy complained about the dress almost at once,
saying it didn't fit right and it was too baggy for her.
She said the hem was too long and that she kept tripping over it,
but my mother mostly ignored her as I helped to get the food on the table.
Then we prayed over the meal and sat down to enjoy our feast.
Mum had made red wasail for the occasion
and the warm apple cider tasted great after being out in the cold.
There were mashed potatoes, ham, fruits and vegetables,
both stewed and raw, pies, roast,
and, of course, the tortal, which sat as the centrepiece.
We all dug in, and it was the first time I'd heard Lucy stop talking in days.
She ate a little of everything, her eyes sliding again and again to the turtle,
and who could blame her?
The pastry glistened with sugar and looked delicious.
When we had all eaten as much as we could,
Mom cut the tortal and served us all a piece.
Now remember, if you find the pea, you'll see.
get to be royalty for the evening, she reminded us.
Me all dug in, savoring the tasty tart, and I expected to find the pea with every bite.
I think, even then, I believe that my parents let me have the pee every year so I could be
the princess of the feast, and as I saw my tart become smaller and smaller, I began to wonder
if they had moved it this year. Lucy was eating as well, but I saw her hands slip into a pocket
as she ate, clenching something.
suddenly she sat up bringing her hand out of her pocket and proclaiming how she had found a pea.
I could only gape as my parents congratulated her.
Had she just cheated to get to be the princess of the feast?
I didn't have long to gape, however, since, as she turned to me, grinning,
it was a light tap at her door.
Mom stiffened, looking at Lucy and me, saying,
"'Frau Pergter has arrived.'
She and Dad left the table, heading for the door.
But I stopped Lucy as she started to get up.
You cheated.
Why would you do that?
I was less mad than hurt, honestly.
Lucy was our guest.
We had treated her far better than she had treated us,
and this was just needless.
I would have let us share the title with me if I'd won,
but for her to cheat to win was just...
My young mind didn't have words to describe it then.
I simply couldn't make sense of why she would do it.
Duh, your parents would have probably just given you the piece with a P in it.
While you're at church, I lifted the corner and saw it in the corner of the piece she gave you,
so I took it and put in my pocket for later.
It wasn't fair that you just got to win, so I cheated, just like your parents were going to.
Now step aside, peasant, your princess is off to get a presents.
And with that, she skipped off towards the living room.
I had little choice
but to follow after her.
The frau was seated in the living room when I arrived.
Frau perked her, as I've said,
had always scared me a little.
She was dressed in a habit,
a long white shawl covering her face
and framing the ghastly-looking mask that she wore.
The mask was made of dark wood,
looking ancient and resembling a smiling ogre.
She was hunched, using a cane to get around,
and she leaned forward in the chair
as she beckoned me forward with a gnarled hand
Come forward, child
I took a step
her voice sounding like dry leaves and a hollow log
Lucy stepped forward instead
standing before the frow
and jutting a chin out
Hey I was here first
I should get my gifts before her
My mother sucked in her breath
And my father's eyes got very wide
As his skin seemed to pale
The mask bent a look at Lucy
And the wooden thing did not like what it saw
Run along, child
You are not of my ilk
And I would not judge you by my rules
Lucy huffed out an angry breath
Hey, I was promised presents from you
What, I don't get presents because I'm not a part of this place
The wearer of that mask sucked in a long suffering breath
And looked at Lucy icily
clearly you are not of this place child if you were you would know that it is wise to treat me with respect when i honour a household with my presence oh so i'm just supposed to accept that you didn't bring me anything she brought the pee out of a pocket and waved it in front of the masked face i'm the princess of the feast and i want my gifts i'm royalty to-day and you can't tell a princess no she said haughtily her bluster melted all
way when the old woman's hand wrapped around a slender neck.
Even if you were the grandest princess in the land, I answer to a higher power, and will not be
spoken to in such a way by you.
You wish to have my gifts?
Prepare to receive them.
She stood, stooped no longer, and carried Luce's struggling body over to the coffee table.
She shoved the magazines and knick-knacks off the table and slammed a struggling girl onto the
surface. I looked at my parents, but frozen in horror and surprise, before screaming for them to do
something. My father looked at mum, nudging her and whispering something to her that brought her
out of her trance. She moved in front of me, blocking the scene from view, and whispering soothing
words to me as my friend gagged and screamed. Through the crook of my mother's arms, I could see
the old woman taken knife from beneath a robe and lifted over the struggling girl. Her reddening face was
terrified, seeing the knife preparing to gutter, and she struggled all the harder.
The old woman's grip was like iron, though, and as she tried to line up the blade,
she seemed to be having trouble seeing through a mask.
The tip hooked beneath the lip of a mask and swung it to sit on her head, and it was
then that she seemed to notice me.
She looked at my mother, and a dry voice cracked out, bringing her back around to face her.
Do not shelter that.
child, let us see what before those who cross the white.
My mum looked down at me, clearly not wanting me to see what was about to happen,
but moved aside obediently.
When I caught sight of the flower's face, I put my hands to my mouth to stifle a scream.
The ogre mask was an improvement compared to what lay beneath.
Her gaunt face was skeletal, her nose little more than a flap of skin,
and that skin was ice-blue and stretched over a skull like a piece.
of wax paper. Her teeth were sharp like little stones in her mouth, and she held my eyes
with a pair of crystalline blues that nearly gave me frostbite. She released me a moment later,
bending to the struggling girl she had pinned against my mom's coffee table and lifted the knife
to get to her work. Lucy struggled frantically. She was aware it seemed that this was no joke,
and that neither her parents nor my parents were going to swoop in and save her. Lucy had found
someone who would not give her a pass because she was young and pretty.
She had found a creature to which things did not matter.
Lucy had learned too late, and sometimes it's best not to keep poking a bear
when it's given you a chance to run.
When the knife came down, it seemed to surprise her all over again.
Her white dress began to soak with blood, the blade cutting through her abdomen and slitting
her belly open.
The old woman cut into her guts, sticking the knife blade first into the table.
and dragging out handfuls of ropean trails.
She threw them on the ground, Lucy twitching and convulsing as a life bled away.
Her face had come from red to purple, and her eyes bugged out as the lack of air caught up with her.
It seemed the blood loss won out, though, because I saw her bulging eyes roll up to the white
as a purple face slackened in a death mask.
She went limp, head lolling to the side, and the frow reached behind her to grab her.
scratchy sack I hadn't noticed before.
She opened the sack, spilling sticks and pine cones,
old wrappers and vegetable peels,
into the opening before taking out a long bone needle
and stitching Lucy closed.
She did this with amazing speed,
years of practice, I suppose,
sewing up Lucy as a dead eye stared at the Frau's habit,
which was unstained by blood or gore.
When she finished,
Frau poked her sat in a chair once more,
and motioned me over.
I didn't want to go.
I had just seen this woman kill one of my best friends,
but my mother pushed me to water
and gave me a nervous look that said all it needed to.
I broached the chair on a rubbery legs,
trying not to look at Lucy's bloated form as I passed her.
The frau held out her hand,
the blue fingers streaked with gore,
and I heard the clink of coins.
I held out my hand,
not wanting her to take her to take her.
touch me, and she let four large gold coins fall into my hand. They too were blooded, my gift
holding its own little warning, and she offered it to me. You are a good child. Know that I am
pleased by your charity and your pure heart. Fear not, I will take care of that one, she said,
indicating Lucy, but you will need to make the proper excuses.
She said to my mother and father.
They both nodded and shunted me up to my bed,
my numb fingers still gripping the coins.
I didn't know how I would sleep after all that,
but as the adrenaline wore off,
I found my eyes growing heavy,
and it was morning before I knew it.
I expected to find Lucy in my room,
asleep under her blankets,
but she and her things were all gone.
Her bags had been taken away,
her bedding and clothes missing,
and when I went downstairs,
the living room was spotless.
My parents were in the kitchen.
They guard from the night before
nowhere to be seen,
and my mother was on the phone with the police
filing a missing person report.
Her voice held nothing but honest emotion,
and that's likely why nothing was ever said
about the incident other than regret.
She left in the night officer.
We work up to find her things gone
and the front door open.
Well, she had been feeling a homesick,
but we didn't think she would just up and disappear.
We've searched for her since dawn,
when my husband noticed she was missing.
No, not a sign of her.
Yes, I called her mother and let her know,
and they are on the way back now.
Yes, yes, yes, please, officer.
If you find anything, let us know.
Thank you.
She hung up the phone and sat with my father at the table,
both of them, looking at me.
Sweetie, we need to talk about what happened last night.
They told me everything.
She told me the old stories about how,
Rout Puckter would reward good children and punish those who were willful.
My mum told her she had seen her sister punished in just such a way as Lucy,
the body and the mess gone by morning, but not forgotten, and certainly not forever.
They found a body a few months later, buried in the snowdrift.
It was one of the reasons that I left the community when I was old enough.
The police might not know what happened to her, but I did, and the community suddenly did.
When the coroner found sticks and rocks sewn inside her
The community knew that my mother had raised one of the willful ones
I hoped that by leaving
I would be able to flee the traditions of my people
But when the frere arrived at my door and my first feast away from home
I knew there would be no escaping her
She looked at me her eyes full of pity and resolve
You will have to do the same
This is your life now
and it won't just end because you leave it.
The frau is our burden,
the gift given by my family
generations ago,
and she can not be escaped.
When you have children of your own,
you must remember this night
and raise them to respect the white.
You know the consequences of failure now.
If the police ask you what happened to Lucy,
just tell them the truth.
Tell them you haven't seen her since last night,
and leave it at that.
And so I did.
So I have been to,
for years now. I'm a married woman now. I have children of my own, and I have raised them to both
revere and fear the yearly visits of Frau Pertrta. My children are good kids, but I will never make
the same mistake my mother made on that day when I was young. I will never allow outsiders to stay at my
home for the holidays, and I will never let my children know the dark secrets I keep inside.
