Beyond the Naughty List
A/N: If you do not like horror-style (Santa is a bad guy) kind of Christmas stories, pass this one. I wrote it as a writting challenge and thought others might enjoy it.
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“Hurry,” she shouted.
I glanced back and saw a flash of red. Terror engulfed me as I gave all I could to running. I didn’t want to die like this. It was just supposed to be dinner and a show. It was supposed to be filled with laughter and cheer. There was supposed to be a chance at a kiss under the mistletoe. What happened was not what was supposed to happen.
The air was arid as I gasped. It left me gasping even more as if the figure behind us had sucked all the oxygen from the area. I didn’t care how it happened but the figure had managed to transport the two of us to this frozen desert. What I did care about was trying to find somewhere to hide, though it seemed impossible out here.
“Up ahead!” she gasped. “What is it?”
I could barely make out the bright red and green lights. A shiver ran down my back and I realized he was closing in. We didn’t have the energy left to continue running, but the endless horrors that came with stopping were worse. The lights ahead shined with danger, but they also beckoned us to its cheerful glow.
In the center of what appeared to be like a cove, stood a giant Christmas tree. Red lights were dripping down the sides of the tree. What had appeared to be green lights were only branches illuminated by the nearby red. Along the tree were figurines. Instead of looking peaceful and blessed, the figurines each looked terrified and in pure agony.
“Ho. Ho. Ho.” A voice drummed out in a chant.
We turned and saw the figure. He was grotesquely obese and his red suit was abhorrent as it started to fall apart. The trimming was as white as his yellow, cavity-filled teeth. His face was sagging and stained red from what I assumed was too much eggnog. His hands were encaged by two black leather gloved. Strapped to his belt was a long black whip dripping with a thick, dark liquid.
“Looks like we have ourselves two who have moved beyond the naughty list.” The voice drummed.
The figure waved his grubby hand towards us as the sound of a lone bell rung through the air. Each ding ringing out as if to dictate the last moments before the funeral march arrived at the grave. Its low, bone shattering bellow matching every third beat of my racing heart. My body begged for a deep breath, but my mind only cared about what the man before us planned.
Another knell of the bell and suddenly the woman beside me started screaming as her skin turned to porcelain. Her writhing body stopped moving as it started to shrink. Finally, the living, breathing woman who had ran beside me was turned into another figurine for the tree. The man looked it over before shrugging and dropping the figurine. I watched as the beautiful woman I had shared dinner with crashed into the ground. Seraphina Caduca, the fallen fiery angel.
“One trouble maker dealt with, now time for the last one.” The man boomed.
Terror filled me as I took a step back. “But you’re... How did... What... When... Why are you... What did we do wrong?”
The man gave a dead laugh that had lost its joy years ago. “Ah, isn’t that the question we all ask when faced with the consequences?”
Pain engulfed me as the world around faded into oblivion.