It was another mundane Christmas eve for the McCallister family. Unlike your typical white snowy Christmas this one was gray with a severe thunderstorm rolling in just a few hours ago quickly drenching everything with pouring rain. Gene McCallister had just finished putting his son Blake, and his daughter Amy to bed while his wife was with their newborn Gage getting him situated into his crib for the night. Suddenly There was a knock at the front door. Gene went to investigate the sudden disturbance, his wife Deborah in tow. Gene pondered over who could possibly be at the door during this time when everyone should be at home with their families and away from this melancholy weather before taking a look through the peephole to reveal an older looking gentleman with white disheveled hair and a dirty red coat. Must be a homeless man who thought he could get some extra change during the holidays by dressing as a discount Santa Clause, he thought with disdain before opening the front door.
“Can I help you sir?” Gene greeted politely trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.
“I am a man who is selfless, going around to help the helpless. Though I am a stranger with no relation I offer you a wonderful vacation!” The stranger chimed with a creepy Christmas cheer.
At this encounter a tense awkwardness fell over the room. Deborah stood back a few feet with unease wondering if the man had just escaped from the psyche ward. What began as another boring Christmas eve of putting the children to bed and laying presents beneath the tree was now turning into a horrifyingly exciting night and suddenly neither parent was sure how things were about to play out.
“We don’t need anything tonight, thank you.” Gene responded with a skeptical look as his frustrations grew. He began to close the door but it was quickly stopped. The old man stood holding the door open with a menacing grin. His other hand stayed stashed in his coat.
“No one these days wants to open their door, humanity sure has become quite a sore. Have you no manners or sense of civility? I only come here to offer tranquility.” The surprise guest uttered with a stern look growing in his eyes.
Fear began to build inside Gene as he was losing control of the situation quickly. “LIsten asshole, get the hell off my property or I’m calling the cops to drag you back to whatever shithole you came from.” He shouted mustering up all the courage he had to get the sick man away from his family. Before he knew it a hot flash of pain shot across the top of his forehead. He stumbled back confused feeling for a wound as he began to see a considerable amount of blood pool on the carpet below him. Fighting wildly to keep his bearings he looked up to face his adversary but the next strike to the side of his head would kill him before he would get the chance to see what did it. The murderer stood over Gene’s lifeless body clutching a bloody hatchet in his right hand before turning to a paralyzed Deborah. In a few quick steps he closed the gap between them before slamming the but end of the handle against her temple. She slumped to the floor unconscious, a gash had appeared from where he had struck her.
Deborah awoke in her living room with a near blinding headache, it took only moments for the memories from earlier in the night to come flooding into her head. Looking around she found that her two children Blake and Amy had been set in the living room with her bound to chairs from the dining room and gagged to keep from screaming. She tried desperately to get up and save her children only to find she too had met the same fate as them. Upon further inspection of her surroundings she could see that her husband had been nailed to the wall above the fireplace, his body situated to resemble a crucifix. Oddly enough during this traumatic rush of emotions she could swear that she smelled something cooking, almost like someone had left a pot roast or ham in the oven. From the corner of her eye Deborah saw the twisted intruder come into view, and after closer inspection she could see that the shade and pattern of his red coat and pants suggested that they were not originally that color. His greasy white hair and beard hung down limply around his aged face. The man truly resembled a monster and his actions reflected the same.
The man’s face lit up once he saw that she was awake and he began to chime again in that same eerie voice “I’m sure you’re wondering what is he cooking and when will it be done? but you should be wondering what has happened to my infant son?”
A disgusting realization hit Deborah as she saw one of her kids were not accounted for and she understood what must be cooking in the oven. She tried her best to hold back her vomit but the intrusive smell of her beloved son’s singed flesh stuck in her lungs and she was helpless to stop the impulse. The bile rose up and stopped at the gag fixed into her mouth burning her throat, choking her and causing more impulsive heaves as she fought desperately to breathe.
The stranger watched in amusement as she choked, her lungs were burning and her vision was going dark as her body continued to fight. Her energy was beginning to fade and she was slipping out of consciousness once again before the gag was ripped from her mouth and she was able to clear the bile from her throat. She quickly regained focus, completely out of control of the situation. She knew the only chance she had to save her children was to beg. Maybe there was some shred of decency or moral in him, there had to be right? How could something of the same species as her possibly be capable of such heinous, unthinkable acts?
“Please, take whatever you want, do whatever you want to me, just please don’t hurt my children. Not my babies, please.” She croaked between sobs.
“Please do not fret or cry, everyone here is supposed to die. Life is a pain and society no longer merry so I am here to relieve the burdens you all carry.” The stranger sang just inches from her face. She could smell his horrible scent of blood and rot now.
The children began to slow in their struggles for freedom and their sobs quieted down as they saw their mothers desperation and realized their fate. Of the two people that were there for them their entire lives and supposed to protect and provide, one was hung lifelessly on the wall and the other was slowly losing hope and was clearly unfit to get them out of this situation.
The stranger stopped and seemed to marvel at his work, a crooked smile stretched across his face. Then in a sudden twitch he seemed to move back to work and began to hum Carol of the Bells. He walked out of view and began to grab miscellaneous objects from around the house, laying them out on the coffee table. While a once cheery tune became an ominous omen for the family. Deborah watched as he laid out a bat, a shovel, a knife, a carving fork, a bloody hammer, and a chainsaw. The stranger continued to look around the room pondering his surroundings before stopping at the fireplace and placing a poker into the fire. Deborah sobbed quietly as she watched, helpless to stop whatever was coming next. Hope was quickly waning from her as she realized she could not help the only people she was supposed to protect. The stranger slowly looked through the different objects before picking up the carving fork and forcing it into Amy’s eye. Deborah watched in horror as blood ran down her precious daughter’s face. The muffled screaming rang against Deborah’s ears like church bells from a sacreligious ceremony.
“PLEASE!” she screamed at the intruder mustering up what little strength she had “please just let my children go, they’re just kids they’ve done nothing wrong. Do whatever you want to me just please let my children go.” her words quieted down as she watched the intruder look through his various torture devices. There was no point to her constant begging as she was helplessly watching her family being murdered before her. The intruder stopped at the chainsaw, starting it up with a dramatic roar, silencing the screams of one child as Amy’s head was split in two. Blake only a few feet away made noises through the gag to suggest he was desperately pleading for his life. It was no use however as the intruder made his way to the white hot fire poker taking it out of the fireplace. He purposefully strode over to the boy holding the poker so close to the boy’s eye it began to burn. Blake shook and screamed desperately fighting for his life. The intruder seemed to watch curiously as he fought before slowly piercing the white hot poker through his eye until movement ceased in the young boy.
Deborah’s mind had now disconnected from the gruesome scene, breaking completely as she accepted her fate. The intruder picked up the knife from the coffee table and held it to her throat. Against all human instinct she simply sat there catatonic as quiet tears ran down her face. Her only reason for living had quickly been taken from her in a series of unthinkable actions and she no longer saw any point in fighting as she felt the cold steel press against her. The knife was then moved from her throat and she felt the pressure around her wrists and ankles relieve itself as the knots were cut. A clang sounded through the house as the knife dropped to the floor.
“Christmas should never be spent alone, and I gifted your family a chance to atone. I must hurry on now but before I’ve departed, I would like you to finish what I have started.” The intruder chimed, staring at Deborah in anticipation.
She had gone cold now all emotion being replaced with a hopeless pit in her gut as she stared at the knife. Some part of her wanted to pick up the knife and plunge it into the gut of the monster that killed her children, but it was a far away voice. After all, killing this man would do nothing to bring them back and all she really wanted was a chance to see her kids again. She would give anything for a late night of changing Gage’s diapers or an early morning fussing over Blake and Amy’s appearance before school. So as she stared at the welcoming blade all she saw was a solution to her problems. To maybe watch them grow in whatever afterlife may be waiting for them all. She picked up the blade and did the only thing that made sense in the moment and slit her wrists wide open. She stared blankly as the crimson blood painted her carpet, her very life force escaping away. She felt light and numb as her vision became dark and had she been capable a smile might have even crept across her face as she finally got out of the horrific situation.
The next morning the police would find what almost looked like a murder suicide where the wife snapped and killed her family before herself. However after closer inspection they would find unknown fingerprints on an eerie note.
“Though this scene may look quite depressing I promise you there’s no need to be stressing. Though this may look like a terrible desecration, the whole family got to indulge on this Christmas vacation.”