Christmas Night of Horrors

“Why is decorating a Christmas tree never as romantic as you remember it from childhood?”

“Because you’re killing the magic by complaining about it. Here, put some more bulbs on your side. Mine’s getting crowded.”

“I’m sorry. This was a good idea. I’m just…”

“A Grinch.”

“Damaged. It’s an awesome cottage though. How long have you had it?”

“It’s been in the family for a while. I used to spend Christmas eves here as a kid, but I haven’t been back in years. You’re the first person I’ve brought.”

“Well, I’m honored. Even if I don’t seem it.”

“Haha. Ok, I’ll make our next egg nogs stronger. That’ll cheer you up.”

“It will. You know me so well.”

“Hey! It’s snowing!”

“OK! Now it feels like Christmas.

“A Merry Christmas toast then.”



“Jaime? Jaime, did you hear that?”


“Jaime! Wake up. Did you hear that?”

“W-What? No. Go back to sleep.”

“Fuck. Useless.”

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I heard something. I’m going to check it out.”

“It’s just the house. It’s old, I told you.”

“No. I HEARD something. Stay here if you want.”


“Careful! The bed is old too. … Aubrey? Aubrey!? Oh for fuck sakes.”



“There you are”


Seriously? Ok fine. I’m whispering, but it’s four thirty in the morning and I’m not indulging this shit until sun up.”

“What happened to all your Christmas spirit crap?”

“I left it in bed; where I should be.”

“Knock it off. You’re the one who dragged me up to the mountains for some stupid Christmas rendez-vous. The least you can do is not let us die here.”

“Well it seems you have it perfectly under control. .. [sigh] Okay, I’m sorry. Don’t look at me like that. I’m just tired. It’s fine. Let’s check it out.”

“Thank you. It came from over there, I think.”

Tink tink tack

“There it is again!”

“Yeah – ok, that is weird. I think it came from the attic, though. Pass me the flashlight.”

“Don’t you have another one?”


“Why did you bring me to a cabin with no electricity and one freaking flashlight?”

“Because I want to see you squirm, obviously. Follow me.”


“Jaime? Wait up, please. Ouch. Dammit. “

“You okay?”

“Yeah, stubbed my – AHHHHHH!”

“Aubrey! Run!”

“Let go! Ah – No! JAMIE!”



“Aubrey? Can you please describe the incident, again?”

“[sniffle] Mmhm. Jaime just wanted us to have a nice Christmas, you know? Not have to deal with our families and stuff. Let it be about us for once, not about our choices.”

“So, once again, You and Jaime arrived at what time?”

“Noon. No one was in the house. I mean… [sniffle]… I don’t think. I guess we didn’t check it out until I heard it in the night.”

“And what time was that?”

“Uhh.. shit, I don’t know. Four, Four thirty. I should call someone… Yeah, can I call someone?”

“You did. You called your brother. He’s on his way.”



“Yeah, sorry. Uhh, like four thirty. And we were trying to follow the sound. Fuck. That sounds so dumb now…”

“Go on.”

“Yeah, so we were checking it out, and Jaime got really far ahead of me so I was rushing. I stubbed my toe and when I bent over something grabbed me from behind.”

“Go on.”

“I should call someone.”

“Your brother is on his way. Tell us what happened next.”

“I-I can’t. I mean, I don’t know. It fucking grabbed me, [sniffle], it fucking grabbed me! And Jaime lunged and – ahh. I don’t know. But it killed Jaime. Just like that. I don’t even know how it happened, really. Can I call someone now?”


“So I guess they made the naughty list.”

“Haha. Looks like it. Or the more obvious – lover’s quarrel?”

“Maybe. Kid seems pretty traumatized though.”

“All we have from the crime scene is the glove. Covered in blood. That doesn’t scream evil Saint Nick.”



“Detective Carson… Another one?… Okay, we’re on our way.”

“Same description?”

“Yup. Fat guy in a red suit with a hell of a right hook.”

“Eyes scooped out of the vic?”


“I’ll drive. Oh, and someone get our witness a phone.”

Shyla Fairfax-Owen ©

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