Christmas. Day 7. It's here, y'all. Today we're going to feature five horror short stories from Reddit. They're all about the season, and we hope you like them!
I almost saw him last year. But Mom found me behind the Christmas tree and sent me back to bed.
This year we baked cookies to leave for Santa. Chocolate chip. Mom didn't see me add the Secret Ingredient. We left the cookies beside the fireplace.
Last summer, I watched Mr. Scott next-door put out rat traps with peanut butter and The Secret Ingredient. I watched where he put the jar away. He said "it would stop a horse in its tracks".
I really hope I added enough to the cookies.
I have to see Santa this year. This is my last chance.
SANTACORP
This is how Christmas works these days. You have a child and then wait for what seems like months for a chance to meet Santa Claus. If we had any choice, we wouldn’t have queued in the snow and freezing temperatures for hours to see him. The truth is we can’t afford not to.
Finally, my wife, Ria, and I are next in line. An elf with a clipboard takes our details and then begins running through a prepared script.
“You understand that in donating you first born child to SantaCorp, any and all children you have in the future will be provided with free gifts at Christmastime?”
“Yes.” I answer.
“You understand that once you enter Santa’s grotto you cannot back out of the deal and the process must be completed?”
“Yes.”
“You understand that if either of you close your eyes or look away during the procedure the agreement will be void and SantaCorp will not acknowledge your donation?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Step through the double doors when you’re ready. He will see you now.”
Ria grabs my hand tightly as she holds our child to her chest. I can see her eyes filling with tears as we step through the double doors.
The sight of him makes me gag. His suit may once have been well-fitting, but his large, hairy stomach has ripped through it and rests on his lap. His long grey hair and beard haven’t been washed for some time; they are tangled and matted with blood.
I can’t decide what’s worse about this situation; the fact that he will devour our only child or that we have to watch.
The huge sleigh hurtled through the Christmas Eve sky, defying Nature, defying physics...below, Earth's rotation slowed, so that the ancient magic could take place once again.
Eight reindeer flew at a mad gallop, nearly pulling the reins out of their driver's hands. He didn't mind. This was his favorite night of the year.
Except....Santa frowned. It had happened again, hadn't it? He could sense someone else on the sleigh. He turned, and, sure enough, behind him, clinging for dear life, was a small boy, grinning maniacally, eyes wide with exhilaration.
A tough one, if he was actually grinning.
Santa sighed. Why did some kid always want to ride the sleigh? It never turned out well....usually, the hitcher's brain simply exploded after mere minutes, overwhelmed by the sleigh's speed and magic. If they did survive, they were catatonic, drooling messes, and died soon after landing....
Either way, Santa dumped them in the ocean. An unexplained disappearance was easier on the parents than finding their child with brains and blood leaking out of every orifice, on Christmas morning.
But this one was actually enjoying the ride. A problem. Exasperated, Santa addressed the boy.
"You're...Timothy Nordwind, right?"
The boy nodded, incoherent with excitement.
"I'm taking you home, Timothy...and this all has to remain absolutely secret. You understand?"
Timothy nodded again.
"Good boy," said Santa. He patted the boy's cheek, then taking Tim's head in both hands, gave it a quick, sharp twist, snapping the boy's neck. Tim sagged limply.
Santa sighed. Another one for the ocean, then. A shame. Why did some kid always want to ride on the sleigh?
CHRISTMAS FEAST
I was made with one purpose, to be tortured.
My brothers and I are lined up next to each other, almost touching but unable to move.
We are burned. The heat is so unbearable. My body stiffens as hot metal sears my back.
After what seems like a lifetime, finally we are pulled from the flames.
As we cool off, I begin to hope that there is no more we have to bear.
For a while we wait, still close to each other but cemented in place.
Then the beast appears.
Such a disgusting monster with teeth made to tear us apart.
The monster grabs my brother and starts to rip him apart, chewing off his arms and legs.
The sound of screams, my brother’s screams, echo in my head until, finally, he is completely devoured.
Another monster appears and speaks;
“Hey, can I have a gingerbread man?”
FOR MORE SHORT SCARY STORIES ABOUT CHRISTMAS AND TONS OF OTHER STUFF, CHECK OUT:
We've still got six more days of Christmas fun lined up for you guys! Check tomorrow for MonsterPuke Theatre!
- EveryoneDiesAtTheEnd
