Part I: The Snow Fort Christmas was always a whimsical time for young Christopher. For as long as he could remember, Santa Claus came down the chimney, left gifts, ate cookies, drank coco, and fed his reindeer. Then, he was gone without a trace left behind, with the exception of […]
A Snowflake’s Descent Read More »
A few years ago I did something. Something terrible. Sometimes that I really wish I didn’t. Something I can never take back. It all started when my girlfriend,well ex girlfriend, broke up with me. I know this might seem trivial and just a part of life and growing as a
“Donde Esta Santa Claus” was blaring on the radio as Gary crossed over state lines into…somewhere. He lost track of where he was hours ago. Somewhere… midwesty. He was driving back East for Christmas. Too cheap to fly, he thought he’d take the opportunity to get to see America, the
An Unexpected Magi Read More »
December 23, 1975 Brookfield, Montana 1 AM To John, it didn’t seem as if it was going to get colder. But to his dismay, it did. The temperature on the train he rode on stated it was 45 degrees, even with the heaters. The train with its beautiful Christmas decorations
Perpetual darkness lingered at the top of the world. Thick ice, frigid air, and snow covered the lifeless mountainscape. However, the endless night did not go unchallenged. A single source of light illuminated the sky and drove back the darkness. Nestled between two snow-covered mountain, a little cottage sat with
Santa’s Other Workshop Read More »
The night of Christmas Eve 2008 is a blur, depending on how much medication I am given that day. I can avoid the nurses for a couple of hours, but not too long. I suppose you’ve heard about me in the papers or on your favorite serial killer show. No,
Ever since grade three, my friends and I could make Derek Zimmer believe anything. Anything. From Pop-Rocks and Coke will make your stomach explode; to earwigs actually burrow in your ears (and one’s on your shoulder right now!); to the typical urban legend of the babysitter and the killer upstairs
I sigh, stretch, and push myself away from my laptop. I let the chair spin for before lazily dragging my foot to stop it. I had been working on a new story. One about Christmas, and the horrors it includes. It was pretty cheesy, and all the ideas felt recycled.
He was cold. Bitterly so. It was not the unforgiving December wind creating lazy vortexes in the freshly falling snow; rather, it was the numbness that consumed both body and soul in one fatal, unseen breeze. It also did not escape him that his surroundings seemingly felt the same: bleak
The alarm was horribly loud in his left ear, a persistent high pitched beep forcing him from his dreamless, alcohol-soaked slumber into a hangover-heavy wakefulness. Jim groaned, rolling away from the insistent machine and negligently silencing it with a lucky swipe of his arm. His head felt thick and fuzzy,
Carrots and Whiskey Read More »
Growing up, or at least since the mid-two thousands, my house always had an Elf on the Shelf during the Christmas season. If you don’t know, Elves on the Shelf are these little elf dolls that are supposed to be scouts for Santa Claus. I named mine Humble. I think
The Elf on the Shelf Read More »
It was the Christmas season. It had just gotten dark, as I was finally able to leave the office that night after working overtime. The streets were damp from the heavy rain; it had been an unusually warm winter. I stopped downtown for some Christmas shopping for the kids, just
Living in lower Alabama, we rarely receive snow. I spent most of my life wishing for a white Christmas, a white Christmas that never came. I have only seen snow twice in my thirty-three years here. I always wanted to share that with my two boys. I just knew that
One contrary wheel wobbled erratically as Thomas Moon pushed against the weighted shopping cart. He looked down at the mountain of Christmas presents and imagined his poor wallet gasping for air and fainting in a huff. He smiled as his wife, Christine, waddled up to the cart carrying what seemed
“Someone has taken their love of fear one step too far.” Don LaFontaine’s iconic voice emitted from the television set. I ran over to the TV cabinet, nearly knocking over the Christmas tree that Ryan was decorating. “Hey! Easy tiger,” he said as he adjusted his Santa hat. “We’re gonna
Each year on December 5th, a person in my hometown is brutally murdered. The police are at a loss. With each victim, a poetic story is left behind. Below are the stories from the past three years. * * * * * * Fredrik loved to smile, for he was
“Christ,” I muttered to myself, as the first flakes of snow started to fall. They gathered in fuzzy clumps over the windshield before my wipers cleared them away. I’d been waiting for fifteen — no, twenty minutes now — in my sister’s driveway. Had I chosen to wait inside with
It Wasn’t a Reindeer Read More »
Thank you for coming, doctor. I honestly didn’t think the renowned psychoanalyst, Jeffrey Gilland, would see me. Then again, it isn’t every day you are handed the opportunity to interview an insane colleague. And I am your golden ticket to a more profound reputation, aren’t I? Please, you don’t need
Christmas has always been a hard time for me. Childhood memories of bickering relatives, drunken tirades, and hostile dinner conversations made me wince at the mere mention of the holiday. In the Christmas of 1989, I broke my collarbone on my new toboggan. In the Christmas of 1997, my brother
The night was young. In our world at least. 2:14 AM, and me and my husband Ricky were standing out in the open shed behind The Post Searchlight. Stanwyck, Georgia’s local newspaper. Like nocturnal detectives, Ricky and I were wired for the graveyard shift. You had to be when you did
At 4 AM a Weird SUV Started Following Us Read More »
Publisher’s Note: This story is part of the author’s Father Cooke series of interrelated stories. If you enjoy it, the author invites you to click here to read the other tales in the series. “If you are going to keep me tied to this chair, at least give me the dignity
Father Cooke: Part 3 – A Holly Jolly Christmas Read More »
Mrs. Claus sat in her rocker, a half completed sweater resting on her lap. The alarm clock on the small table beside her rang its shrill alarm through the warm air of the house, announcing that it was now 1 AM. She reached for it, hitting the button at the
I Was a Christmas Elf Read More »
Serial killers have always fascinated me. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve found myself both scared and intrigued by psychos like Ted Bundy or Clementine Barnabet. And as I grew older, my interest only increased. I was from Atlanta. Growing up in lower-class Latino neighborhoods, I’d seen crime all
The Sunnyside Murders Read More »
My weakness was always power. I don’t mean that in an inspirational way you might find in fairy tales or The Children’s Book of Virtues. I mean it literally: I will do anything for power. Anything. And I did. I suppose my attraction to power stems from my miserable start in life.
The First Night of Christmas is for Special People Read More »
