AuthenticM
Member
Julie was lying in bed, stuffed from all the succulent food and tasty hors-d'oeuvres that littered the table hours ago, a subtle smile on her face. "Life is starting to feel normal again, I guess" she told herself.
It had been a little over a year since Jeff, her husband and Henry's father, had passed. She thought there would be little chance of enjoying Christmas again this year. But all the guests showed up with presents in hand and joy in their hearts, and somehow, they succeeded in making Henry forget about the past year's hardships. He laughed and danced and played with his toys like every other normal little six-year old. No one brought up anything that could make him remember that his father was dead. He was content. And so was she, as he was her world now. Him only.
Her bed could not be more comfortable at this moment. The weight of her full and soft duvet on her, she closed her eyes, letting herself drift to the slumber that was calling her.
The loudest bang brought her right back up. She was sitting at a perfect 90-degree angle in her bed when the most frightful shriek followed. It sounded mechanical. Then she heard loud and uneven thumps, almost footsteps but not quite, moving away from her room, and down the stairs. After the briefest moment of fear paralysis, the image of her son's face flashed in her mind, and she sprung out of bed and opened the light. But there was nothing. No light. She turned the doorknob slowly, and pulled the door even more slowly while peeking at the long corridor stretching out ahead of her. She had been living here for nearly a decade, but the hallway somehow felt longer than usual. Her heart was racing and her mind overflowing with thoughts and adrenaline and fear. She could hear sounds from downstairs, like someone or something walking into chairs.
She looked straight ahead, directly towards Henry's room. She opened her eyes wide, trying to let in as much light as possible. She could see the window in Henry's room giving a view to the neighbour's land and house, hundreds of meters in the distance. The door to Henry's room was half torn off the wall, awkwardly hanging from what was left of the frame.
She heard another noise from downstairs. She called out, "Henry!" No response. No more noise. She put one foot forward, waited, then another, until she was standing in front of the stairs. She couldn't see anything in front of her, except for the small patch of floor by the entryway illuminated by the moonlight entering from the front door window. She heard another thump, seemingly coming from the living room.
With the utmost care, she dropped to the first stair in front of her, and listened. No sound. She did the same for the remaining stairs. She was on the ground floor. No sounds. To her right was the dining room, leading to the living room. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see that the chairs were not in their set positions.
She made her way through the dining room. Walking slowly and breathing silently. She stopped right before the entryway to the living room. She turned, put her right hand on the wall and her left hand on the entryway frame, brought her nose to the wall, and slowly but surely, shifted her weight to peek inside the living room. Four millimetres at a time. And more. And more. And...
There it was. Staring right at her, directly into her left eye. In a red and white suit, with even redder eyes. Glowing red eyes. She could do nothing but to return its stare, frozen in place. She didn't know what she was looking at. Two metres tall, slightly arched forward, right arm at the ready. Its right hand was big, disproportional to its body. Long, sharp, metallic claws. She had no idea if it was a prosthesis or not. The creature was still staring at her. Its left hand was holding a sizeable texture bag. She thought she perceived movement there but was unsure. The creature was still staring at her. Its face was big, angular, and also metallic, reflecting the moonlight peering in. What looked like its mouth was half-opened, with what appeared to be sharp, protruding metallic teeth. It was completely frozen in place, apparently not breathing, but the creature was still staring at her.
After what seemed like an eternity, when in fact it had only been seconds, Julie heard a small voice coming from the bag: "mommy". Her eyes opened wide with energy and she snapped back to reality. "HENRY!!", she shouted.
The creature's eyes became red with fire and its mouth opened wide to let out an ear-piercing shriek, with the entire head uncannily shaking every which way. In one swift movement, it turned around, creeped into the fireplace, looked up the chimney, jumped, and loudly made its way outside, leaving behind dust and chunks of bricks.
Julie ran outside, screaming and crying and shouting incoherently. She kept scouting above, looking for the creature carrying her son. She saw movement towards the back of the roof. Frozen in place, Julie couldn't do anything but look in despair at three pairs of ominous red eyes attached to grey reindeers carrying a blood-red sleigh, in which rested the creature and the bag. Ignoring the mother's cries, the reindeers jumped high in the air, as if pulled by the gravitational field of the moon, and disappeared into the night.
It had been a little over a year since Jeff, her husband and Henry's father, had passed. She thought there would be little chance of enjoying Christmas again this year. But all the guests showed up with presents in hand and joy in their hearts, and somehow, they succeeded in making Henry forget about the past year's hardships. He laughed and danced and played with his toys like every other normal little six-year old. No one brought up anything that could make him remember that his father was dead. He was content. And so was she, as he was her world now. Him only.
Her bed could not be more comfortable at this moment. The weight of her full and soft duvet on her, she closed her eyes, letting herself drift to the slumber that was calling her.
The loudest bang brought her right back up. She was sitting at a perfect 90-degree angle in her bed when the most frightful shriek followed. It sounded mechanical. Then she heard loud and uneven thumps, almost footsteps but not quite, moving away from her room, and down the stairs. After the briefest moment of fear paralysis, the image of her son's face flashed in her mind, and she sprung out of bed and opened the light. But there was nothing. No light. She turned the doorknob slowly, and pulled the door even more slowly while peeking at the long corridor stretching out ahead of her. She had been living here for nearly a decade, but the hallway somehow felt longer than usual. Her heart was racing and her mind overflowing with thoughts and adrenaline and fear. She could hear sounds from downstairs, like someone or something walking into chairs.
She looked straight ahead, directly towards Henry's room. She opened her eyes wide, trying to let in as much light as possible. She could see the window in Henry's room giving a view to the neighbour's land and house, hundreds of meters in the distance. The door to Henry's room was half torn off the wall, awkwardly hanging from what was left of the frame.
She heard another noise from downstairs. She called out, "Henry!" No response. No more noise. She put one foot forward, waited, then another, until she was standing in front of the stairs. She couldn't see anything in front of her, except for the small patch of floor by the entryway illuminated by the moonlight entering from the front door window. She heard another thump, seemingly coming from the living room.
With the utmost care, she dropped to the first stair in front of her, and listened. No sound. She did the same for the remaining stairs. She was on the ground floor. No sounds. To her right was the dining room, leading to the living room. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see that the chairs were not in their set positions.
She made her way through the dining room. Walking slowly and breathing silently. She stopped right before the entryway to the living room. She turned, put her right hand on the wall and her left hand on the entryway frame, brought her nose to the wall, and slowly but surely, shifted her weight to peek inside the living room. Four millimetres at a time. And more. And more. And...
There it was. Staring right at her, directly into her left eye. In a red and white suit, with even redder eyes. Glowing red eyes. She could do nothing but to return its stare, frozen in place. She didn't know what she was looking at. Two metres tall, slightly arched forward, right arm at the ready. Its right hand was big, disproportional to its body. Long, sharp, metallic claws. She had no idea if it was a prosthesis or not. The creature was still staring at her. Its left hand was holding a sizeable texture bag. She thought she perceived movement there but was unsure. The creature was still staring at her. Its face was big, angular, and also metallic, reflecting the moonlight peering in. What looked like its mouth was half-opened, with what appeared to be sharp, protruding metallic teeth. It was completely frozen in place, apparently not breathing, but the creature was still staring at her.
After what seemed like an eternity, when in fact it had only been seconds, Julie heard a small voice coming from the bag: "mommy". Her eyes opened wide with energy and she snapped back to reality. "HENRY!!", she shouted.
The creature's eyes became red with fire and its mouth opened wide to let out an ear-piercing shriek, with the entire head uncannily shaking every which way. In one swift movement, it turned around, creeped into the fireplace, looked up the chimney, jumped, and loudly made its way outside, leaving behind dust and chunks of bricks.
Julie ran outside, screaming and crying and shouting incoherently. She kept scouting above, looking for the creature carrying her son. She saw movement towards the back of the roof. Frozen in place, Julie couldn't do anything but look in despair at three pairs of ominous red eyes attached to grey reindeers carrying a blood-red sleigh, in which rested the creature and the bag. Ignoring the mother's cries, the reindeers jumped high in the air, as if pulled by the gravitational field of the moon, and disappeared into the night.
