Dark December [A Holiday Filled Horror Anthology]

Night Before Christmas by @acheairs

Night Before Christmas by acheairs 

"Twas the night before Christmas" he begins as I find myself praying that I'd soon escape this hell. Each day he brings me to a new house and makes me listen to him recite that stupid work as he goes room to room killing his next group of victims.

I don't get why he kept me. I watch as he tortures and kills innocent people in his twisted holiday ritual. I long to be set free but each day, he loads me into a sack and carries me tied up, into these homes. I am forced to watch as he collects blood to pour on the tree while hanging ornaments he cuts out of the bodies. His twisted decorating of these homes has left my souls broken, and I wonder when it is going to be me. When I begged to be set free, he laughed and said my time would come tomorrow. Each day for the last eleven days it had been the same. I wonder tonight on Christmas Eve if I would be set free. It was doubtful, but I still kept wishing for it.

"When all through the house" he continues. I know where this is going. He will continue, laughing; being cheerful over the mass murder he will no doubt commit. Under the tree and in the stockings, he places beautifully wrapped gifts for the police of past murders from him and other killers he has stumbled across during the year. The one he gave me was an eyeball. I became so sick I threw up at that scene. And he just laughed as he continued.

He baked human cookies, made from the flesh of victims and put out milk for Santa. In a disgusting ritual that he has performed for ten years.

I cry being forced to watch it. I scream wondering why I am still here. I die each day a little more with hope quickly leaving me. And yet inside, I find myself hoping I can get away and tell someone about this sick man.

"Not a creature was stirring" I know this is his favorite line. He has already drugged his victims to make his entry easier and give him time to prepare. He will slowly watch as the drugs wear off each one and will torture and kill them before they can fully wake from this drug-induced sleep. I feel for these people, and yet in moments I know I am happy that I have some more time to try and get away.

Unfortunately, his glee today is setting me on edge. I know something big is going to happen and I dread it. That twinkle in his eye as he goes room to room, prepping makes my heart drop from my chest, and it makes my stomach churn; knowing whatever happens today even if I survive my mind will forever be haunted by this Christmas nightmare.

"not even a mouse" he laughs looking at me. It is as if he can see my soul and hear my thoughts. I know better than to think of escaping while he is in this mood. I should have waited until he went into the rooms. Until, he had prepared to torture the poor souls in this home. It is only in that moment that he forgets me.

This house looks familiar to me. They all did really, but I feel like I should know this place. I pray this is not like the others but I know today is worse. It is the last day before Christmas. He has set the table in the dining room for dinner. I see food and long for just a taste. He has given me just enough to live but not enough to satisfy me over the last couple weeks. I long to have some more. To be with my family, celebrating. Instead, I am subjected to this.

He stopped reciting the poem. I hadn't noticed. He has begun singing while he works. It is sickening to me that he gets off on this. That each house, he becomes happier, merry.

It's like he believes this is how Christmas is truly spent. That painting the trees red with blood is how we are supposed to deal with this holiday. I hate this day; I hope I never hear another Christmas Carol again or hear that stupid poem. And yet, I still hope I live. I hope I get away and live life.

Am I stupid? Am I wishing and thinking the same thoughts over and over? Yes, because if there is magic in Christmas, maybe I'll get free and get this guy arrested. If there is a miracle this Christmas maybe this would be it.

"Are you ready for your gift?" He says with glee, and yet it feels sinister as well. I hope it isn't another eye.

I cry! I want to beg for him to stop but I cannot. I want to be free. I want to stop seeing this. I want him to have mercy on me.

But I know he won't as he drags me to the first room. A room I know well. My parent's room! Which means my family is inside this house. I kick and try to scream as I watch helplessly as he slaughters them. He makes his Christmas cookies from my mother as I cry and thrash. Throwing up as he continues on. The gag makes it impossible and I find myself choking on my vomit.

But he won't let me die. He is happy about this. Merry! I am forced to watch as he kills each member of my family. I hurt. I want to die. Miracles don't exist.

He sets me at the table. He is singing some stupid song as I watch him remove the lid to what I thought was a turkey. And I scream. Muffled by the gag. Seeing the baby he cooked.

He deserves to die. To rot in hell but that is when I feel it. The pain as he cuts my hand off. And I feel myself slowly giving into it. Knowing that I don't have long to live as I feel him continue with his assault on me. I want to fight, but I'm weak now. I can see the world edged in black. The last words I hear are from him "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night." Then death takes me as the clock strikes twelve.