âDonde Esta Santa Clausâ 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 heâd take the opportunity to get to see America, the REAL America. Turns out, most …
December 23, 1975 Brookfield, Montana 1 AM To John, it didnât 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 was an extraordinary sight to …
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 puffy billowing smoke rising from …
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 youâve heard about me in the papers or on your favorite serial killer show. No, I was never convicted. What …
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 oneâs on your shoulder right now!); to the typical urban legend of the babysitter and the killer upstairs â and that it actually …
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, his tongue dry and his …
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 donât 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 I was trying to name …
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 they would love to play …
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 to be enough rolls of …
âSomeone has taken their love of fear one step too far.â Don LaFontaineâs iconic voice emitted from the television set. I ran over to the TV cabinet, nearly knocking over the Christmas tree that Ryan was decorating. âHey! Easy tiger,â he said as he adjusted his Santa hat. âWeâre gonna see it in a couple …
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 always glad. Happy, warm, and …
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 a paper route. Every night, …
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. âIf you are going to keep me tied to this chair, at least give me the dignity of letting me wear my …
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 top with a light ting …
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 time. I saw gangs, …
My weakness was always power. I donât mean that in an inspirational way you might find in fairy tales or The Childrenâs 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. Thereâs no point describing it, …
The First Night of Christmas is for Special People Read More »
The first time you meet your girlfriendâs family is extremely important. Maybe they will become your family too. You have to be funny and charming, but not too funny or to charming that it seems unnatural. You donât want to be a faker or bootlicker. When I was about to meet Mabelâs family, I couldnât …
My parents own a Santa animatronic. I think it tried to kill us. Now, I know what you might be thinking. This story already sounds like a kidâs overactive imagination during a season that relies on the magic of imagination. I donât mean to oversell it either, this wasnât some decades long haunting where it …
It was the summer of 2019, the 16 year old Thomas Mitchell and his family went on a trip to their cabin in the Stillwater State Forest of Montana. He had two younger brothers, Felix, who was 10 and Michael who had just turned 14. They usually spend their time hiking and visiting nearby places …
Some of our most lasting memories are associated with Christmastime. I can clearly remember receiving a red tricycle when I was four. I can still smell the roast goose my mother made for our Yuletide dinner when I was six. I recall fondly that when I was nine, my father let me climb up a ladder to place the star atop the tree. And when I was eleven, a dead man terrorized me on Christmas Eve. When I was twelve, he came back. This is the story of that man.
âItâs creepy,â Dan balked. âItâs cute,â Julia countered. âBesides, itâs fun. I mean, geez Scrooge, whereâs your Christmas spirit?â Dan picked up the doll and turned it over in his hands. It was the prototypical Christmas elf as imagined by Hollywood in a red onesie, Santa hat and painted on perm-grin. âI just donât understand …
My dad built his dream cabin in the southern Ozarks back in 1991, a reward to himself for achieving early retirement. The damn thing took nearly a year to build, what with the county having to actually build the road to my familyâs property at the top of a small mountain. I was 14 at …
There was once a very well behaved eight-year-old boy named Miles. He did all the things that good children are supposed to do, nearly all the time. He ate all his vegetables, unless they were carrots. He completed all of his school assignments, except for that one time he forgot to finish his homework. He …
“Fuck, it’s cold.” You would think I’d be used to it by now. Pulling my scarf a little tighter, I take one last drag off my cigarette and flick it to the ground, crushing it underfoot. I watch as it flares for a moment â a fleeting fight for life â before quickly fading to …
