It was far past my bedtime on Christmas Eve, and I was lying in bed unable to sleep. I kept waiting for the sound of Santa climbing down the chimney with a sack full of presents. I was getting close to the age when children usually stop believing in Santa, so I had some doubts as to whether he was actually coming.
But to my surprise, around twelve, I began to hear what sounded like someone walking around the living room in boots. My heart began racing; I jumped out of bed and put my ear to the door. I listened to footsteps as they went toward the kitchen, (where the cookies and milk were), before heading back where the chimney was. All went silent.
I tried going back to bed, knowing it was hopeless. I wasn’t sleeping until I at least had a peek outside of my room. I grabbed my flashlight and made my way down the hall. The first thing I noticed was the cookies left on the table had been eaten. Then I turned my attention toward the tree, which now had beautifully wrapped presents all around it. I was amazed, he was real indeed.
The chimney, though, looked completely undisturbed. While examining to see if there was any sign of Santa’s entrance, I heard a voice form behind me.
“Hello, child. What’s your name?”
The voice was low and throaty. I turned around and froze. Standing by the tree was a tall, thin, gray skinned thing, with long boney arms and long sharp claws. It smiled at me with dark, soulless eyes.
“W-who are you?” I asked tremblingly.
“Can’t you tell? I’m Santa Claus kid! See?” It pointed to the Santa hat upon it’s rather deformed head.
“Why do you look like that?”
“What? Do you think I’m ugly?” It asked in response, “Don’t worry, I’m not bothered, a lot of people feel that way about me. That’s why they make me look like a big fat guy.”
I didn’t believe a single word it was telling me. “Why don’t you know my name? Santa knows everyone’s name.”
This question seemed to anger it. “That’s trash made up for movies kid. How could I know everyone in the world?”
“Then how did you know I was good this year?”
“I dunno,” It’s eyes turned red and it’s mouth opened to reveal rows of shark-like teeth. “Why do you ask so many damn questions!”
I bolted to my room and slammed the door shut. I managed to push my dresser in front of the door before that thing started pounding on it.
“C’mon kid, open up! I’m nice, I swear!” It shouted tauntingly.
It began to tear apart the door. Once that was out of the way, it picked up the dresser and throw it across the room. Not knowing what else to do, I ran into the closet, closed the door and hide behind the toys inside.
“Oh, now wherever might you have gone kid?” It said.
The monster opened the closet, reveling it’s smiling face once again. It moved closer. “Merry Christmas kid!”
I saw a white glove grab it’s shoulder and pulled it away out of sight. I heard it screaming in pain; it’s screaming turned to screeching. It was begging for it’s life. Silence.
I heard a now familiar sound of boots approaching. A man in a red cloak covering all of his face expect for his bread appeared and gave me his hand.
“You are safe now, Steve.” He said.
Looking around, the monster was nowhere to be found.
“Is it coming back?” I asked.
“No. Never again.”
I examined the wreck that was now my room, wondering how I was going to explain this to my parents.
“Worry not, Steve. Simply go back to bed and all will be well in the morning.”
And so I did. Somehow, I didn’t have any trouble falling asleep this time. The next morning my room was back to normal.
Now, here I am, all grown up. I still write to Santa every year, though I don’t ask for much anymore. I simply remind him how grateful I am.