Christmas at the House of Monsters

Exactly at the stroke of midnight, the ghost drifted silently through the bedroom door. Snuggled under his Scooby Doo duvet, the boy mumbled in his sleep. The ghost drew closer to the bed and looked down at the sleeping child. Dead eyes widened, translucent lips pulled back, chest expanded in the mockery of taking a breath and a hellish, piercing scream-

-stopped in the ghost’s throat as something clutched her ankle.

Stepping back, Alisha looked down in time to see a hairy, six-fingered hand disappear under the bed.

‘Matty,’ she hissed at the thing under the bed, ‘whyfor did thou grasp at me so?’

From under the bed, a grating, scratchy voice spoke.

‘Poor sweet, Alisha,’ it croaked before descending into a series of rasping coughs. When it came again, the voice was steady and clearly enunciated; a normal voice.

‘Your scream would have woken up the kid,’ Matty said. ‘Then he would have woken his parents, they’d have come in and I’d have lights and sobbing to contend with all night. Who needs that kind of hassle?’

‘But he scared me,’ Alisha explained. ‘He’s not supposed to be here.’

In the corner of the room, the closet door unlatched and creaked open. Slowly. During the day, the door opened smoothly and soundlessly in a second; now it groaned for the full minute it took to open wide.

‘Will you two get in here? You’re talking loud enough to wake the dead.’

‘Hey, I find that offensive,’ Alisha complained, but shuffled toward the closet nonetheless. When she was inside, Matty crept from under the bed in a slither of fur and fangs and shadow. The door closed behind him.

‘So this is your place?’ Matty said, looking around. Beyond the shelves and the boxes and games that were strewn across the floor, a grey landscape unfolded, a rocky tundra stretching for miles toward snow-capped mountains in the distance. ‘Not as cramped as I expected.’

‘Nor as colourful or, ahem, gay as I expected,’ Alisha added.

‘I’m in the closet because I’m a closet monster. I was made this way, it’s not a choice.’

‘Relax, Kevin,’ Alisha soothed. ‘I was joking.’

‘Will you two stop bickering?’ Matty said. ‘We have a problem. They’re here.’

Alisha giggled. When she saw the confusion on her friends’ faces, she muttered under her breath, ‘You two don’t watch enough movies.’

‘The family always goes away for Christmas,’ Matty continued. ‘Why are they still here?’

‘It’s the state of world this year,’ Kevin explained. ‘This stupid coronavirus has scuppered everybody’s plans.’

‘What’s that?’ Alisha and Matty chimed in unison.

Kevin tutted in exasperation. ‘Don’t you watch the news?’

‘I find it deathly boring,’ Alisha said and giggled again.

Kevin groaned. It was not a good groan. Alisha was the best at that; it was part and parcel of the whole ghost thing.

‘Anyway,’ he continued, with a roll of his eyes, ‘the family are not allowed to visit her parents this year, so they’re staying here.’

Though it seemed impossible that she could, Alisha paled.

‘But we always have the house to ourselves over Christmas. What we will do?’

Kevin’s face set with grim determination. ‘We will just have to make do.’

‘This is going to be…’ Alisha stopped unable to find the right word to express her angst.

Matty completed the sentence for her, choosing a word they all found apt:

‘Horrifying.’

*

After agreeing to meet up once the family were awake and downstairs, Matty and Alisha returned to their respective lairs. The night seemed to drag on for decades but, as each of the monsters had been around for far longer, they had practise of whiling away the time. Eventually, excited voices could be heard.

‘It’s morning. Marilyn, it’s morning.’

‘Yes, Eddie.’

‘Let’s go down and see if he’s been.’

‘Soon. Go see if Mum and Dad are up.’

‘Mum! Dad! Are you up?’

‘I said go and see if they’re up.’

As the family traipsed down to the living room, Kevin left the closet and called out for Matty. Together, they crept out to the landing and loitered near the hatch to the attic.

‘Psst.’

Alisha stuck her head through the ceiling.

‘How do we get up there?’ Kevin asked.

Alisha shrugged, a difficult manoeuvre to execute whilst upside down.

‘I don’t know. Can’t you just pass through the walls and floors like I can?’

‘We’re corporeal beings,’ Matty reminded her, ‘not ethereal like you.’

‘Interesting,’ Alisha said with not a trace of sarcasm. ‘So how are you going to get up here?’

‘That’s what I just asked,’ Kevin said, his voice dripping with frustration.

Footsteps sounded at the bottom on the stairs, getting closer. Someone was coming.

Kevin grabbed Matty and dragged him through the nearest door. The bathroom was large and, as the blinds were still closed, thankfully dark. Matty crawled into the space beneath the bathtub while Kevin hid behind the shower door.

The father entered but, much the Kevin’s relief, did not switch on the light. Once he’d relieved himself and pressed the flush, he washed his hands and returned to his family. The roar from the cistern reverberated in the tiled room, causing goosebumps to pop out of Kevin’s skin.

‘They’re still here?’ cried a voice from behind the toilet.

Matty slunk out from his hiding space. ‘Good morning, Chaney,’ he said.

‘What’s so good about it?’ replied the flush monster, stepping into view. Water dripped from his hair, sliding down his face like tears. Chaney always looked sad and Kevin appreciated that if he were to spend his entire existence damp and cold, he too would not be in the cheeriest of moods.

‘Look, today we’re going to face some… challenges,’ Kevin said. ‘But we’re still going to enjoy Christmas. We’re just going to have to be creative with our fun.’

‘I’m not going to get the watch the TV, am I?’ Chaney sulked.

‘You only watch the soaps anyway,’ Matty said. ‘and they’re always depressing. They kill more people off on Christmas day than an undercooked turkey.’

‘I know,’ Chaney replied with a gleeful smile. ‘It makes me feel better about my life.’

From above them, Alisha announced her entrance.

‘I’m coming down now. Avert your eyes.’

The monsters turned to the carpet as Alisha descended from the attic. She always demanded they look away when she entered from the ceiling, afraid they would try to peek up her skirts. Kevin had tried to explain that, because they were all different species of nightmare, none of them were interested in her in that way but his words fell on deaf ears. Or dead ears.

‘Is this where we’re spending the day?’ Alisha asked. Spotting the mirror over the sink, she added, ‘I dare someone to play Bloody Mary.’

‘No!’ Chaney yelled, trembling with fear.

‘Aw, is the water monster afraid of the vengeful ghost?’ Alisha mocked in a singsong voice.

‘No, she’s just a pain. All she does is whine about her hangover then spends her time ransacking the place for tomato juice.’

Matty nodded in agreement.

‘We can’t stay in here anyway,’ Kevin said. ‘Once the drinks start flowing, the father will be in here every two minutes. We’ll probably get more privacy in the daughter’s room.’

‘Can I come too?’

Confused, the closet monster looked around for the source of the tiny voice.

‘Down here, Kevins. In the bath.’

Kevin peered into the tub. A small spider was furiously crawling up the sleek side, only to be beaten by the nonporous material and tumble back down.

‘Of course, Petey,’ Kevin answered. He reached out a hand and let the spider run up his arm. ‘Where is the rest of you?’

‘We’ll meet you there.’

As Alisha took the direct route, Matty, Chaney and Kevin snuck into the hall and tiptoed to the girl’s bedroom. The floorboards creaked under their feet – more than six, thanks to Matty’s countless limbs. Kevin held his breath, praying the family would not hear and come to investigate. Luckily, the noise was masked beneath the sounds of joy and surprise coming from downstairs.

Once inside the daughter’s room, Kevin relaxed. This was his favourite room in the house, the one which felt most like home. Blackout curtains prevented any chink of daylight entering, though Kevin’s innate night vision allowed him to take in the scene perfectly. The walls were hidden behind a collage of fantasy and heavy metal posters, an eclectic mix of dragons and Black Veil Brides and unicorns and Slipknot. On shelves which once homed Barbies and stuffed toys sat figurines of wizards and skulls and Pegasusses (or is it Pegasi? Kevin pondered) and more dragons.

There was no doubt in Kevin’s mind that the occupant of this room was a kindred spirit and, should they ever come face to face, he believed they could become good friends.

On the duvet bearing a – no surprise – fearsome-looking black dragon, two dozen spiders scurried over one another. Kevin gently placed his charge beside them and it quickly joined the throng. More arachnids appeared, climbing up the sheets or dropping from the ceiling, and soon a foot-high conglomeration was created. Furry legs extended, chelicerae flexed and eight eyes peered up, each part comprised of individual spiders.

‘Hi, guys,’ the creature said, myriad voices joining in one cacophonous whisper.

Alisha coughed.

‘And lady,’ Petey added hurriedly.

You’re not pretty enough.

The thought suddenly popped into Kevin’s mind. He mentally shrugged; body image was not a concern for a monster who had the ability to shapeshift at will. Looking at the annoyed expressions on his friend’s faces, he knew they had thought the same thing.

Nobody wants to be your friend.

‘Stop it, Debbie,’ Alisha said to the room.

You’ll never get a boyfriend.

‘This doesn’t work with us,’ Chaney said. ‘We’re not teenage girls.’

In the dressing table mirror, a wan reflection appeared. It was the spitting image of the family’s daughter but with sunken cheeks and insipid eyes. The straight, black-as-night hair, dark smudges circling the eyes and raven-coloured lips were echoes of the original girl. Much to her chagrin, Debbie even had more colour in her cheeks than the emo daughter.

I can’t help it, Debbie thought in everyone’s head. I’m a Doubt Demon. It’s what I do.

‘We know,’ Kevin said patiently. ‘Are you joining us for Christmas?’

Yes, sure. Debbie smiled, despite herself. What have you got planned?

‘Hiding from the family,’ Chaney moaned.

‘We’re not hiding,’ Matty said. ‘We’re just… well, it’s Christmas day. We deserve a day off.’

The rest of the monsters nodded and murmured their agreement.

‘What about Borises?’ Petey asked.

‘He’s right,’ Alisha said. ‘We can’t let Boris out of the basement with the family here. They’re bound to see him.’

Kevin’s forehead creased in thought.

You’re not clever enough to work this out.

Matty glared at Debbie in the mirror.

Sorry, she thought. Force of habit.

‘If we can’t get Boris to the party,’ Kevin announced, ‘we’ll have to get the party to Boris.’

‘You mean spend the day in the basement?’ Alisha asked. ‘Where it’s cold and damp?’

‘Home away from home,’ Chaney complained, but couldn’t help a small smile.

‘Come on, guys,’ Kevin said. After a sharp glance from Alisha, he added, ‘And ladies. It’s not going to be a Christmas we’re used to, I know, but we should still spend it all together and try to enjoy it the best we can. Yes?’

Matty nodded, though it was hard to tell due to his lack of a neck. ‘Kevin’s right,’ he said. ‘Christmas is what you make, so I say let’s get down to the cellar and make this one great.’

‘And how are we going to get there?’ Chaney asked. ‘It’s okay for Alisha and Petey. Even Debbie. They can all slip past the family unseen, but us three-’ his wet finger pointed out Kevin, Matty and himself ‘-are not so easily hidden.’

‘That’s a good point,’ Kevin admitted. ‘But where there’s a will…’

‘…there are relatives squabbling over the heirlooms?’ Alisha suggested.

‘No,’ Kevin answered. He opened his mouth to correct her, but decided against it. Instead, he said, ‘Alisha, I need you to go and scope out the downstairs. Petey, go and tell Boris we’re coming.’

‘Yes, Kevins,’ the spiders chorused. The giant creature disintegrated into its scores of component parts and scattered throughout the house.

A moment later, Alisha reappeared through the bedroom floor.

‘The whole family is in the,’ she paused to steel herself before finishing: ‘l-l-living room.’

‘Don’t like that word at all, do you?’ Matty commented.

‘No,’ Alisha shuddered. ‘It makes me feel as though someone has walked over my grave.’

‘Then let’s go,’ Kevin said.

As one, the monsters left the daughter’s bedroom and moved to the top of the stairs. The sound of the family reached them, the mother howling with laughter as the father barked commands to the family.

‘Open this one now, Eddie. Marilyn, pass this the present to your mum. Happy Christmas, Lily, I love you.’

Creeping slowly, Kevin led Matty and Chaney down the stairway. He stopped at the bottom and peered around the corner. The door to the lounge was ajar. They would have to pass it to get to the kitchen. Luckily, the family appeared so wrapped up in their own excitement Kevin guessed their chances were high.

‘Ready,’ he whispered. ‘One. Two.’

The mother turned to look through the open doorway.

Kevin pulled Matty and Chaney back.

‘What’s wrong, honey?’ the father asked.

‘Thought I heard something, Herman. Must be my imagination.’ The mother turned back to her family.

‘Unless this house is haunted,’ Kevin heard the daughter say, which sent the whole family into fits of giggles.

‘Now,’ Kevin ordered, realising that giving a countdown would only waste time. He lurched forward, dragging his friends behind him and in three long strides he had safely gotten them all in the kitchen.

The delicious aroma of cooking filled the air. Pots simmered on the stove. Kevin’s stomach grumbled. So did Chaney.

‘Oh, this is fantastic,’ he said sarcastically. ‘All this wonderful food and warmth and we have to pass it by to spend the day in the dank basement.’

‘It’ll be better when we’re all together,’ Kevin said, unconvincingly. The smell was just too nice. Moist turkey. Cranberry sauce. Roast potatoes. Pigs-in-blankets. Swede. Sprouts. Everything was mouth-watering.

Matty had wandered over to the fridge. He slammed the door shut and rushed to Kevin’s side.

‘It’s horrible,’ he cried.

Kevin and Chaney stared at him with wide eyes.

‘There’s batter in there,’ Matty explained.

‘DearGodno,’ Chaney gasped. ‘You mean…?’

‘Yes,’ Matty whispered. ‘The family is having… Yorkshire puddings with their Christmas dinner.’

Kevin shuddered. Suddenly the food did not seem as inviting. He shuffled the trio over to the basement door. As expected, it was locked.

‘Where do they keep the key?’ he hissed.

Alisha materialised and poked her head into a cupboard. ‘Not here,’ her muffled voice replied.

As the ghost moved to the next cupboard, Chaney leapt onto the sink and rummaged around on the windowsill. Kevin could hear Boris through the door.

‘But I’m not ready to receive visitors,’ he was explaining to Petey. ‘Why, this place is simply thick with dust. It has not seen a mop and bucket for far too many a-year.’

‘Found it,’ Chaney said, and tossed the key to Kevin.

Kevin quickly unlocked the cellar door but before he could open it the door to the living room crashed open. Making a vrooming sound, the son ran in flying a toy spaceship in his hand.

Alisha disappeared with a squeal. Chaney hunkered down in the sink. Unable to find a hiding spot, Matty froze in the middle of the floor while Kevin wished himself invisible. (It didn’t work; invisibility was not one of his talents.)

‘Careful in there,’ the mother shouted, but the son ignored her and bounded through to the hallway, completely oblivious to the monsters.

Kevin breathed a sigh of relief, pushing aside the disappointment that his presence had not frightened the child.

‘That was too close,’ he said as he opened the door to the basement.

‘I’ll say,’ Matty agreed as he scurried to the dark opening. ‘I thought for sure we were-’

A shrill scream cut him off.

In the lounge doorway, the daughter stood clasping one hand to her mouth while the other pointed directly at Matty.

When Kevin recounted the next events in future stories, he was often tempted to begin with, ‘All hell broke loose.’ He never succumbed though; having seen hell in person, he knew it was a pale comparison to what actually occurred.

Caught out in the open, Matty pressed himself to the ground trying desperately to become a shapeless shadow. Alisha, shocked at daughter’s cry, let loose a blood-curdling wail which would have been the envy of any banshee within earshot. Chaney, attempting to deflect attention from the-thing-under-the-bed-which-was-no-longer-under-the-bed, flicked on the cold tap and jumped headfirst at the plughole.

Brought by the sound of his daughter’s fear, the father rushed into the kitchen. He eyes danced from Shadow Matty to Chaney’s butt wriggling itself into the plughole to Kevin. Disbelief painted his face.

‘What the devil is that ruckus?’ Boris shouted and rushed from the cellar. He stepped into the light, the whole six-legged, eight-foot reptilian length of him. Iridescent scales shimmered, onyx-coloured eyes blinked, fork-tongue flickered.

‘Oh,’ he whispered.

For long moments there was only the sound of running water.

The father’s eyes continued to move from one monster to another, now taking in Alisha and Boris. Chaney, having realised his hiding place had not been large enough, was now peeking over the side of the sink.

The mother appeared behind the father, a strange growling sound coming from her.

Worst Christmas ever, Kevin thought.

Then the daughter broke the quiet.

Pointing at Boris, she yelped with joy and said, ‘A dragon! You got me a dragon!’ In the next moment she was beside Boris, wrapping her arms around his neck.

‘Um, young lady,’ Boris tried but his protest was lost beneath the shower of kisses.

‘I knew it, Herman,’ the mother said. Kevin found her cool tone unnerving. ‘This house is full of monsters.’

‘You’re right,’ the father agreed. He sighed, and in that sound Kevin heard the resignation of years of denial. ‘You always said it was, Lily. I should have believed you.’

The son burst into the kitchen, still playing with his spaceship. He stopped and took in the scene.

‘Monsters?’ he screamed, his toy instantly forgotten.

‘Yes, Eddie,’ the father said. ‘Even though we can’t be with Grams and Gramps his year, it looks like we’ll still have to deal with monsters.’

‘Hey,’ the mother said, playfully hitting the father’s arm. ‘My parents are not monsters. Werewolves, yes, but not monsters.’

She stepped into the kitchen and rolled up the sleeves of her dressing gown. Looking at each of Kevin’s friends one by one, her gaze finally came to rest on the closet monster. Though she spoke to Kevin, her words were addressed to the room.

‘Looks like we’re going to need more sprouts if you lot are staying for dinner.’

Smiling, Kevin said the one thing there were all thinking:

‘God bless us, every one!’