A Christmas Horror Story (5 page)

‘Do something,’ screamed Emily, while the pulsing, writhing things crawled along the floor.

Katie braved stepping closer, ignoring the things that were wet and fat squishing between her toes. Using the poker, she hit the nail that held the stocking in place and sent the awful thing into the fire. Immediately the stocking melted into what looked like a bubbling black stew, as the last of the creatures burnt, escaped or fell victim to the screaming children.

‘What is going on?’ Emily shrieked.

‘It’s coming,’ Jake said. He was shaking and pulled at Katie, pleading to be heard. ‘It’s coming for us.’

Katie looked at her brother. ‘Who is coming for us, Jake?’

As if to answer her question there was a jingle of bells, leaking into the house.

‘Do you hear that?’ Emily asked.

Jingle, jingle and jingle. Like the sound of bells on a jester’s hat.

‘Yes, I heard it,’ Katie said as Jake crept closer to her. All of a sudden the light from the candles and the fireplace seemed dark and twisted with shadow.

‘Tell me you locked the door,’ Jake whimpered.

‘Yes.’

‘All of them?’

‘Yes.’

Suddenly a violent and vicious beating rattled the shutters, the sound shaking the house and the children’s spines. They jumped and shouted, gripping each other.

There was a scrambling sound coming from the walls and over the ceiling. Soot fell from the chimney stack and hissed.

‘Is that the roof?’ Emily asked, shouting. ‘What is that?’

‘I know,’ said Jake, visibly terrified. ‘I know what it is. I know what’s coming.’

They huddled around the fireplace. Katie threw a couple of small logs on top of the smouldering remains of the charred bugs. The orange glow grew brighter and crackled and became strong, casting yellow shadows around the living room. Shapes waved on the faces of the children.

‘I know what has been happening,’ Jake said.

‘What is it, love?’ Katie encouraged.

He licked his finger and opened his tome. He turned the book for the girls to see. Katie and Emily leaned forward. On the page was a picture, hand drawn but in the style of a woodcutting. The picture depicted a long-legged and gangly-armed creature with large talon hands and feet. It wore a long Santa’s hat that spanned its entire length, and at the end hung a sprig of holly. Its head was covered in a spiked beard and long hair that merged into one. Its body was wrapped in rags, with a belt of knives around its waist. In one hand the creature held a large sack that was full to bursting with screaming children. With its long arms, the Santa monster gripped other children, preventing them from running away. They children wore lederhosen and traditional European dress. Above the image was a forest in the background that seemed either distant or floating in the air.

‘This is
der Kinderfresser
. In English it means the Child Eater.’

‘The Child Eater?’ Emily questioned as her eyebrows rose.

‘Yes,’ Jake replied, nodding his head.

‘ Makes sense I suppose. It’s Christmas Eve, the shops are closed. What else are you going to eat?’ she added.

‘Emily, don’t,’ ‘Katie snapped. ‘Go on, Jake.’

‘There’s a passage on the next page, a poem. Listen to this.’

As Jake read, the fire began to die, spitting and creaking with the splitting, burning wood.

On the night before Christmas, lock the doors to the house

For a creature is stirring, sly as a mouse.

He skulks on the roof, down the chimney with care,

Keep the fire burning for the Child Eater’s here.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gives the lustre of mid-day to objects below.

When out of the darkness, who should appear,

With black scaled skin, white eyes and a grin ear to ear.

From birds in the sky, to Santa’s reindeer

All freeze in fright when the Child Eater’s near,

And Dasher! Dancer! Father Christmas will cry

As one by one they lie down and die.

As children nestle all snug in their beds,

Their dreams turn to nightmares and feelings of dread.

The children will stir, disturbed in their sleep

And into the house der Kinderfresser will creep.

Dressed all in rags, from his head to his foot,

His clothes all in black as if tarnished with soot.

A giant sack is flung on his back,

As he steals little children into his pack.

The stump of a child he holds tight in his teeth,

And a fur hat circles his head like a wreath.

He has a thin face and a little round belly,

Slurping down children as if they were jelly

Then out on the lawn there’ll arise such a clatter,

Parents spring from the bed to see what is the matter.

Away to the window they’ll fly like a flash,

Tear open the shutters and throw up the sash

The Child Eater springs to his feet, gives them a whistle,

And disappears into the woods and the thistle.

Until next year it drives out of sight,

A horrid Christmas to all, and a terrible night.

Katie and Emily looked at each other. From the chimney stack a wind blew, making sounds like a ghost. The flames dipped to a timid glow. The three drew closer together.

‘So what are you saying, Jake?’ Katie asked with a kind and cautious tone. She did not wish to upset her brother. Until Mum came home, the well-being the family was her responsibility.

‘I noticed it when we saw the dead birds. And then tonight, I knew it was familiar from something I’d read. How else do you explain what has been happening? The coal? The noises? The creature trying to get into the house? It’s der Kinderfresser, the Child Eater, and it’s coming for us.’

‘Oh my God,’ cried Emily. ‘What is wrong with you? You’re nine years old. Don’t you think it’s time you at least pretended to grow up?’

‘Listen. Please listen,’ he pleaded. ‘What about the bad dreams? I’ve been dreaming about dead things, a monster at Christmas. What about you two? Have you been having dreams?’

The girls said nothing, but their silence was a reply all in itself.

‘Der Kinderfresser is old, very old. There are stories going back all the way to the fifteen hundreds. He is like Santa but the opposite. He comes for naughty children.’

‘But you’re not naughty, love. I’m not naughty and I’m not really a child. Emily is sort of not naughty,’ Katie said.

‘Thanks a lot,’ Emily added.

Jake continued, ‘That’s true. We work hard, pay attention at school and do everything Mum asks. But we are looking at standards going back hundreds of years, when childhood was different. When children fetched water or made dresses, or cooked and cleaned chimneys and were blindly obedient. Compared to them we are the worst. But more than that, no child can be good all time, or they wouldn’t be children. Doesn’t even wanting presents at Christmas make us selfish?’

‘So,’ Emily began. She was angry and spoke through gritted teeth. ‘So instead of the wind or birds on the roof or tricks of the light, are you saying we’re being stalked by a German bogeyman from a folk tale?’

‘What about the presents? What about that?’ the boy replied.

‘Mum playing a prank, to give us a surprise later.’ She was shouting now, shouting and shaking, and she rocked back and forth.

‘Calm down, Emily. Please let’s just think for a moment.’ Katie tried to hug her sister. She held out an arm, but Emily knocked it away.

‘No,’ she said as tears overwhelmed her eyes and reddened her cheeks. ‘No more. Ever since Dad died, we’ve played along with his stupid obsessions. Well, no more. Ghosts, monsters, all that crap is
not real
.’

‘Calm down, Emily, please.’ Katie understood Emily’s frustration was as real as Jake’s. ‘We can sort this out.’

Emily felt silent; she wiped the tears from her face, composed herself and smiled.

‘You’re right. Sorry Katie; sorry Jake. I’m just cold. Let me stoke the fire.’ She paused for a moment and then in one quick movement jumped forward and gripped Jake’s book and threw it on the embers. Greedily the fire took it and the dry pages turned to kindling instantly. Jake screamed, tried to save anything from his precious tome, but Katie stopped him with hugs to protect him from the fire.

Meanwhile, Emily stood, shouting at the other two. ‘I’ll show you. Watch me.’ And she stalked out of the room, through the double doors and into the hallway. Katie heard the locks from the entrance clicking free.

‘Wait here,’‘ Katie said to Jake, kissing his big hair. ‘I’ll be right back.’ She ran after her sister, but by the time she followed her through the dark of the house, Emily was already outside in the cold moonlit garden. Katie went to follow but Jake had also followed and his hand grabbed hers, pulling her back. He was clearly upset at the loss of his book. There were tear tracks on either side of his face. However, right now, it was fear that motivated him.

‘Don’t,’ he warned.

‘Emily, come back in before you freeze to death,’ Katie shouted through the doorway.

Emily stood outside in her slippers and nightgown, and did star jumps in the snow. Her breath was white as a Christmas spirit.

‘I’m exercising. Gets the blood pumping,’ she shouted. ‘Do you hear me, Mr German Monster? My blood is hot and ready for drinking. I’m like a hot chocolate,
mmmm
. Come get a taste.’

There was silence in the air as all three looked up to the sky that was purple and speckled with silver pinpoints. The dark trees and bushes of the garden watched with interest.

‘OK,’ said Katie. ‘You’ve made your point. Now come back in.’ She held out her arm, willing Emily to take it.

‘
Hallo, guten Tag
, welcome,’ Emily shouted again, while spinning on her feet, making circles in the snow before stopping her dance.

‘Oh well.’ She shrugged. ‘Perhaps he’s not hungry?’

Emily took a step back to the house and, like the blackest of ravens, a shadow swooped down and whipped her up. She disappeared so fast there were no screams, only shapes in the snow where a second before she had stood. Her slippers fell on the snow. Somewhere behind Katie, her brother was wailing. She let go of his hand without thinking of the danger and stepped forward, peeping from the doorway. From the eaves of the roof, Katie saw a giant black sack being pulled over the edge. Clearly, despite the night, she could see the shape of Emily kicking and thrashing about, before being dragged to the roof and out of sight altogether, sending slates over the edge and crashing to the ground. Without thinking of the loss and heartbreak that swam inside her, Katie quickly closed and locked the door once again. Her legs, suddenly weak, gave way and she collapsed, sliding down the door and into a heap on the floor. She turned to comfort Jake and in turn herself, but as she looked, he was gone.

Panic-stricken, she called his name. The darkness of the house was full of treacle-coloured shadows and nothing looked familiar as she spun, almost blindly, looking for her brother. In the kitchen, she felt her way around the work surfaces, until she found a drawer where Mum kept various junk items, bits of string, a screwdriver, some batteries for fuses and, finally, a torch. It was made from thick black plastic, heavy, and would make a good weapon. Katie pressed the button and thankfully the beam cut into the dark. She continued from room to room, shining the light inside and looking for her brother. The furniture and walls that shone back looked unfamiliar now. Now they were shadow places for a monster to hide and led directly to the cottage garden.

‘Emily?’ Katie asked. Her hand wavered over the key lock.

As she paused, a voice came through the wood. It was grim and sounded like dust on bones.

‘
Kleines Schwein, lassen Sie mich hereinkommen
.’

Katie stepped back horrified, her insides turning cold and her spine alive with tingles.

‘I don’t speak German,’ she yelped at the door.

The door thumped with four large horrible thuds. They rattled the hinges and dust fell from the frame.

‘Little pig, little pig, let me come in.’ The voice, thick with evil and accented, was louder than ever.

‘Please,’ Katie cried, ‘please leave us alone.’

The laughter that followed filled the room. It was deep and loud and exuded ancient and dark evil. It boomed, ‘HO HO HO HO,’ and Katie stepped out of the room, holding her arms over her ears. The laughter died down like melting snow just as in the dark something tugged at her hand. Katie gasped and turned to see Jake standing there, looking sorry, as if he expected to be in trouble. Katie pulled him to her with relief.

‘I’m sorry I ran away. I was scared, but when I heard you shouting I had to find you,’ he explained with regret. Katie almost laughed; she was so relieved she hadn’t lost him for ever.

‘It’s OK, it’s OK, it’s OK,’ she said until the knocking began once again.

‘We have to hide,’ they said in unison.

Up the stairs they ran, hand in hand, and into their mother’s room. She had a large wooden wardrobe, the kind that wouldn’t look out of place with a lion or a witch living in it. They both climbed in amongst the dresses, Jake first, then Katie. Inside the torchlight lit their faces.

‘Is Emily alive?’ Jake asked, his voice shaking. They spoke in whispers.

‘I think so. I saw her, I saw her’,’ Katie wavered.

‘In the sack?’

Katie nodded. ‘How do we win this?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. It was in my book. I kept everything in my book.’ He sobbed and Katie held him. ‘All this time I was worrying about things that aren’t real. I should have concentrated on what was.’

‘This isn’t your fault, Jake. This isn’t your fault. Tell me, what do we do?’

Jake thought and concentrated so much that he may have burst a blood vessel if he hadn’t suddenly realised something very, very important.