A Christmas Horror Story Read online

  ‘All right, Alice. Show me where everyone is.’

  ‘I told you—’ she smiled ‘—with Father Christmas’.’ And she took Henrietta’s hand.

  Both children walked, in their nightgowns, through the dark corridors of the orphanage. Paintings of Mary and baby Jesus looked down at the pair, illuminated by the gas lamps. Past where the nuns slept they crept, until finally they walked into the dining room. The dining room was huge with a large wooden table that ran the length of the room. Huge dark velvet curtains kept out the moonlight; however, more sets of gas lamps lit the room with their flicker.

  Alice and Henrietta, bare feet padded the length of the room.

  ‘So some girls heard Father Christmas calling them. They woke others and followed his voice here,’ Alice explained.

  ‘How do you know it was Father Christmas?’ Henrietta enquired.

  ‘Because he’s in the fireplace silly, and we heard bells. They jingled. Some girls went to get goodies from the larder.’

  At the end of the room, there sat a large white marble fireplace. Its hearth was dark and cold, darker than Henrietta had ever seen before. Alice let go of her hand.

  ‘Everyone else has gone in there.’ ‘She pointed. ‘Father Christmas took them to new families.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Henrietta replied, looking into the gloom of the fireplace. There was something about that that deep darkness that felt unnatural. It had shape and shined as if it had scales.

  ‘Alice?’ Henrietta whispered. ‘I don’t think that is…’

  ‘Kommen nach der Weihnachtsmann, Kleinen,’ hissed the voice, echoing from the fireplace. And it chilled Henrietta to the bone.

  ‘Father Christmas,’ giggled Alice, and she went skipping over to the fireplace, reaching it before Henrietta could protest.

  Henrietta could only look on as her tiny companion was engulfed by the dark, still giggling as she disappeared into the chimney stack. Her eyes did not betray Henrietta; something had taken Alice, something with a dark, dark purpose. Henrietta stepped back, every instinct telling her to run. But her eyes, her eyes would not leave the sight of the fireplace and her ears were enchanted by the black magic of the jingle bells oozing into the hall.

  ‘Alice?’

  She ventured forward as dust fell from the fireplace, and in her despair Henrietta saw something unfurling in the hearth. It was Alice, somewhat dirtier, with soot and coal coating her as she emerged from the fireplace. She stood awkwardly and her head flopped to one side as if she was being playful. She moved towards Henrietta in an almost fluid, floating motion. Alice spoke with a high-pitched voice that had a strange accent to it, and when she spoke her body shook as if she were a ventriloquist’s dummy. Any relief that Henrietta had for that moment was replaced by an uncontrollable horror that gripped at her nerves.

  ‘Herkommen, kleines Mädchen, herkommen,’ it said.

  ‘Oh Alice, oh Alice,’ cried Henrietta seeing that Alice was not Alice at all, but was held aloft and moved by a puppeteer—a creature smirking from the dark. She could see the reflection of the lamps in its white orb eyes and the shine of saliva on a lengthened toothy grin. It leered down over Alice, her pale limp form held by string rather than dark fingers.

  ‘I knew Father Christmas would not come here,’ whispered Henrietta, and she closed her eyes.

  Moments later, from the orphanage roof, a creature made of Christmas nightmares and holding a bulging sack that looked to hold doll-shaped toys made its escape through the silhouette of the city, not to be seen for another year.

  Chapter Five

  Moorside, Glossop, Christmas Eve 2014

  Emily’s face was staring back when Katie opened her eyes. Emily stood by the bunk bed, level with her sister. She was blowing on Katie’s face to wake her. Emily immediately stopped when Katie became aware of her. It was light and the sun beamed through the opened, curtained windows. The World War Two metal shutters had been rolled back into place. Katie wiped the sleep from her eyes and noticed that Jake was standing next to Emily.

  ‘Something is wrong,’ Emily said.

  ‘What is it?’ Katie asked sitting up.

  ‘You’d better come and see’,’ Jake added.

  Katie climbed out of her bed, happy to be awake and away from weird dreams. The other two watched her as she put on her purple dressing gown. Emily was dressed in an oversized jumper and thick woollen tights pulled up over her black leggings. Jake was wearing his dad’s police jogging hoodie. It nearly buried him but kept Jake snug. His hands were covered by the sleeves, in which he held a bowl of cereal and a spoon.

  All three of them went into their mother’s room. The curtains were still closed, keeping most of the light outside. What slivered through fell upon their mum’s quilted and neatly made bed. On the dressing table, their mum’s make-up and hairbrush hadn’t been moved. Her pyjamas were still neatly folded.

  Katie shrugged. ‘I spoke to her last night. The hospital was busy. I expect she’s just running late. She’ll be home soon.’

  ‘See, I told you,’ Emily said while looking at Jake.

  ‘I was just was worried, that’s all’,’ he said sulkily.

  Katie smiled at him. All three had been nervous since their father had died, and always at the back of their minds was the fear they would lose another parent. It was a feeling that could easily catch either one of them off their guard. It lurked under the surface of normality.

  ‘OK, well, now that’s settled we have another problem: the electricity is off,” Emily added.

  ‘No electricity?’ Katie echoed.

  ‘No TV.’ Jake munched on his cereal. Milk dribbled from his mouth.

  Katie flicked a light switch. The bulb ignored the clicking from the switch.

  ‘Did you check the fuses?’ Katie asked.

  ‘Yes, because that was the first thing I learnt in electricity school.’ Emily raised her eyebrows.

  ‘OK,’ Katie sighed, ‘I guess the heating is not going to work, so I’ll get some firewood. You two, get dressed up warm with lots of layers.’

  ‘Can I wear my Christmas jumper? It has reindeers.’ Jake munched.

  ‘Why not,’ Katie replied. ‘Why not.’

  Katie dressed in her thickest winter clothes. Fur boots, padded black trousers and a green jacket. It took several tries to open the back door to the garden as something heavy was pushing back against it. Finally Katie forced her way outside , squeezing as tightly as she could through the doorway. The cold outside was bitter as it pricked her cheeks. When her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight and her lungs to the crisp air, she took in the scenery. The garden, the pathways, the roads and the hills beyond were covered in a deep snowdrift. With only slight speckles of grey; the horizon had disappeared under the weight of the weather. Snow had buried one side of the house itself. The old cottage building had very nearly been hidden with the drift and only the tops of the trees poked through the snow in the garden. The firewood would have to wait. Now Katie was seriously worried, not for herself but for her mother. Negative thoughts swam in the dark waters of her nightmares. What if her mother had been caught in the snow and her car became a coffin? She held on to the wall of the house to keep steady. Emily had come to the doorway, followed by Jake.

  ‘Whoa, what’s happened?’ Emily asked, gasping at the weather.

  ‘There’s been a snowstorm; it must have stopped the electricity.’ Katie composed herself.

  ‘The freezer has broken,’ Jake joined in. ‘All the food is ruined. The ice cream is on the floor. It tasted funny.’

  Katie thought for a moment and pulled her phone from her pocket. It was out of power and there was no way to charge it.

  ‘OK, get your boots and coats. We’ll walk into the village and get help.’

  Moorside was a remote area of Glossop that was very much a slave to the weather. Set against hills and farmland, it was frequently attacked by vicious grey winds in autumn that swapped for cold, biting snow in winter. Katie’s hom
e was set against a large acre or two of shrubs that Dad always promised to turn into a riding stables for horses, once he took a well-earned rest from the police force. That never happened. Mum now seemed content to stay in Moorside, commuting to the city hospital and back. Katie couldn’t blame her; Moorside coal mine was an abyss that was the last resting place of her father’s body, along with the two hikers he’d been searching for. Katie supposed staying here was part of the mourning process. But she couldn’t wait to be away at university, or maybe travelling around Europe. But watching Emily and Jake wrapped up in garish winter clothes, hats and scarves, Katie sighed. She would never leave. Not while she had responsibilities.

  The snow was deeper than Katie had ever seen it. So much so that just leaving the house and negotiating the few metres of driveway was a trek in itself. The three attempted to dig their way out until they made it to the road. Emily mostly complained, as Katie shovelled chunks of the snow using a coal scuttle and creating a tunnel. Jake helped by making snowballs to launch into the air.

  ‘It’s freezing; what are we doing?’ Emily asked kicking up snowfall and waving her hands around.

  ‘We are not helping. I’m trying to dig us out of here. I think we need to find someone from the village.’.

  ‘There’s no point. Look at the road. There’s at least a hundred feet of snow,’ snapped Emily, and although she exaggerated the snow had indeed formed a wall of white as far as eye could see, broken only by partially buried trees and grey hills. There was no way around, over or through the huge drift. It was going to be the whitest Christmas since the dawn of time.

  ‘Well I haven’t got any other ideas,’ Katie argued as worry plagued her. . However, while Emily and Jake were relying on her, she had little choice but to cast it to the back of her mind.

  ‘We could cross the fields. It doesn’t seem so bad,’ Jake said, launching another snowball into the air.

  The trek across the fields was easier with the absence of tough banks of grass, dry stone walls for the snow to build a dam against, or trees and bushes for their feet to get tangled and buried in. As the three walked further from home, the cold began to burrow deep through the layers of their clothing and snow found its way into boots. Katie began to realise this was a stupid idea. Her brother, although happy to be out at first, was now flagging. The snow was up to his knees in places. Emily too was becoming more and more fretful. Her tough mask was slipping and she was becoming increasingly worried and short-tempered.

  With each crunching step Emily muttered to herself. ‘It sounds like crunching bones,’ she said.

  ‘What did you say?’ Katie asked.

  Emily demonstrated and took steps in the snow. ‘The noise, it sounds like crunching bones.’

  Katie was not sure how to reply.

  Fortunately, Jake diverted the conversation for her. ‘I’m hungry; when can we eat?’ Jake whined in the plaintive tone of all children when tired and wanting something.

  ‘Won’t be long now; just a bit further’,’ Katie reassured him, holding his gloved hands and pulling to help him through the snow.

  ‘This is taking longer than you think. I think we’re lost’,’ Emily snapped.

  She was right. Katie was unsure of the area now despite having lived here all her life. There had never been weather like this. The landscape had never looked so vague and featureless. Katie didn’t wish to admit she was unsure, not for selfish reasons, but instead as protection and reassurance to her siblings. With the air becoming colder, Katie was about to suggest they turn back when Jake spotted something that made him call out.

  Moorside forest stood on the crest of a hill. Tall black trees, shed of all leaves, stood like charcoal drawings against a blank canvas in an eerily quiet scene. It was what lay around the forest that drew the attention of the three. Spread out in a huge arc was flock upon flock of dead birds, lying on top of the snow. Katie, Emily and Jake walked amongst the corpses, unable to take their eyes off the sight. Jake held Katie’s hand and Emily took hold of her other. The birds were a variety of species. Blackbirds, sparrows, robins, finches, ravens, each with its wings spread and stiff to their full span with feathers flapping in the breeze.

  ‘Did they freeze to death?’ Jake whispered.

  ‘I really don’t know. There are thousands of them’,’ Emily said.

  ‘Be careful where you stand’,’ Katie advised as they tiptoed amongst the dead birds.

  ‘I want to go home,’ Jake pleaded, and pulled on Katie’s arm. ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘I agree’.’ Emily nodded. ‘We shouldn’t be here. Mum is probably waiting for us.’

  If Katie heard her brother and sister she did not acknowledge them. She stood frozen, staring at the birds, their thousand dead black eyes staring back.

  ‘They’re all facing the same way, look, as if flying from the forest,’ Katie murmured.

  ‘Katie, wake up. Jake is terrified. We have to leave,’ shouted Emily.

  It snapped Katie from her trance. She looked at Emily, slightly confused, and then at Jake. His face was a mask of wide-eyed, over-imaginative fear.

  ‘Something scared them to death’,’ Katie said frankly and seriously.

  The three looked at the forest. It was dark and still with silence seeping from the treeline.

  ‘We need to go home, quickly,’ Katie said.

  Quickly was not an option, however, as the walk back was as arduous as the aborted wander to town. By the time they arrived, exhausted, back at the house, the sun had finally surrendered to the clouds and the sky was dim. In the driveway, there was snow but no sign of their mother’s car.

  ‘She’s not back yet,’ Jake said in a saddened little voice as he held his sister’s hand tighter.

  ‘Come on, I’ll get you something to eat,’ Katie replied, smiling and trying to keep him happy, keep him distracted.

  ‘Make sure the door is locked,’ ‘Jake warned his sister.

  Once inside, Katie did her best to make them all comfortable. She chopped the last of the wood and lit a fire that roared bright orange and produced a soothing heat. Meanwhile Emily wandered around the ever-darkening house and fought off the creeping shadows by lighting as many candles as she could find. Living in the countryside meant they kept an ample supply for emergencies. With that done, Katie made cheese sandwiches by candlelight. From the broken freezer, water had formed around the bottom. It was as if the freezer had been murdered and lay bleeding. Kneeling on the tiled floor, Katie attempted to mop the water with tea towels. All she achieved was to move the water into an ever-bigger puddle. Frustrated and with a creeping worry always just over her shoulder, Katie burst into tears, admitting defeat and throwing the tea towel into the dirty water.

  She turned to see her brother and sister standing in the doorway looking at her, concerned. Jake’s book was in his hand. Jake had changed into his pyjamas and Emily into her nightgown. Katie wiped her eyes.

  ‘I’m researching the dead birds,’ Jake said.

  ‘That’s good, love.’ Katie nodded distractedly.

  ‘Is dinner ready?’ Emily asked, deadpan. She made Katie smile.

  ‘Yes.’ Katie nodded again. ‘Cheese sandwiches. Merry Christmas Eve.’

  They sat by the fireplace eating the sandwiches and watching the sun disappear through the window. Jake commented that it was getting dark, and Katie took that cue to close the metal shutters. The candles and the fire provided enough light to see. They sat in silence. Jake read his book. His lips moved as his eyes scanned the words. Emily broke the silence as she rose from her chair.

  ‘Well, I’m not brooding. I’m going to open my presents.’

  ‘What? It’s not Christmas for another few hours,’ Katie said.

  ‘We need to wait for Mum,’ Jake added.

  Emily thought for a moment. ‘OK, how about one? Mum always lets us open one, doesn’t she?’

  ‘Yes,’ Katie answered. ‘Although that was Dad’s idea, remember? He started the tradition.’ />
  They were all silent for a moment.

  ‘Christmas is never going to be the same, is it?’ Jake said quietly.

  Emily and Katie looked at each and held their hands out for Jake, before they all headed for the tree. It sat in the corner, with dead bulbs choking it. The pine needles were more brown than green, and most had given up and fallen to the floor below, exposing the branches like dry bones. Below the tree, covered in pine needles, parcels of various colours and sizes waited.

  ‘I think the tree is dead,’ Emily observed.

  ‘Probably just cheap,’ Katie commented. ‘Ignore it. OK, one present each.’

  Each of them grabbed one and began tearing at the paper. Emily was first to get to the box within her parcel.

  ‘What the hell?’ she gasped. ‘Is this a joke?’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Katie asked and looked at Emily, whose face was a picture of confusion. In her hand amongst the torn wrapper, Emily held pieces of dirty coal dust.

  ‘Look,’ Jake said. In his hand, there was more coal—this time from his gift.

  Katie shook the present in her hand. Its contents rattled.

  ‘Open it,’ Emily said expectantly.

  Katie did so and in her hand tumbled a third piece of coal, black and crumbling.

  ‘Maybe it was Mum? Maybe she set this up to surprise us later?’ Emily supposed.

  Jake stayed quiet, worried, biting his bottom lip and deep in thought.

  “Open them all’.’ Katie began tearing at the gifts, throwing torn paper like confetti. Pieces of coal spilled to the floor to join the dead needles. ‘Coal. It’s all coal.’

  Emily and Katie stepped away from the pile.

  ‘Hey, did anyone put a stocking on the mantel?’ Emily asked.

  ‘No wh…’ Katie stopped mid-sentence as she saw the offending sock, suddenly hanging over and silhouetted by the fire. It was long and thick and black and it wriggled, squirming with horrid contents.