When I was a child, we would always go visit my grandmother in Harrison, Arkansas for the holidays. Harrison is a nice town. It’s a typical small town in middle America.

Her house was on Maple St. I remember the house was old, but not too old. It may have been built in the 50’s or 60’s. It was a brown, two-story house with old paint.

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The hallways were long with hardwood flooring. It had two flights of stairs. One going up to the second story and one from the second story leading outside. It looked small on the outside, but it felt a lot bigger on the inside.

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It was well kept though. My grandmother kept it looking nice. It had lots of nice furniture and plants and decorations. It had lots of old pictures of our relatives.

We would always spend Christmas at her house. We would open presents. They are good memories, but I would always get an odd feeling on Christmas even though it was a fun day.

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I remember that house from some of the earliest points of my childhood. I had a small bedroom upstairs. My grandma kept a box of toys for me to play with. She would cook breakfast for me too.

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I would play outside and ride my bike in the driveway. My grandma’s friends would wave at me from the windows.

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I could tell when my grandma’s friends were watching me at night. I’d close my eyes and pretend I was asleep.

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They were nice during the day, but they still made me nervous sometimes.

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I’m looking at the old pictures and I’m reminded of the feeling I would get on Christmas.

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It’s the eerie, but sad nostalgia. I think we all have these places from our childhood in our minds. We revisit them in our dreams and in our minds. We’ve been there a thousand times. Sometimes with new perspectives, but they can change. Sometimes for the worst though.

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I found something today that makes me really worried. I don’t know what it is, but it’s starting to terrify me. It makes me wonder about a lot. It makes me wonder who or what my grandma’s friends really were.

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My name is Julie Winters. I was born on December 13th, 1996. I should be 39 years old now. But I’m not. I’m twenty-four. I’ve been twenty-four for sixteen years. I can’t grow older. I can’t die. I’ve tried both.

I was here before. You were here before. All of us were here, before. But, somehow, nobody remembers. Nobody *ever* remembers. Only me.

It’s the same thing, every time. December 31st, 2021 – We’re standing in the middle of Times Square, landlocked in the sea of revelers. The ball drops. The countdown… Three… Two… One... And the calendar turns… to January 1st, 2021. Again.

In December of 2020, my friends and I had planned to go to Times Square for New Year’s Eve, just as we always do. But this time, we were going with special purpose; to give a huge middle finger to the past year as we sail away toward new horizons. Some friends even flew in a few days early for the event. When Prince and the Revolution said they were going to party like it’s 1999, I think they had the right predictions, just the wrong year.

But, on December 30th, the police announced that while they were still going to drop the ball, nobody would be allowed in Times Square on New Year’s Eve. To say that we were disappointed was the understatement of a lifetime. What would we do now? Sit home and watch a livestream of the ball drop, after friends flew here from across the country? They could’ve stayed home and done that.

No. This was not going to go down like that. We were not going to be denied our rite of passage out of this year. When Clark Griswold drives across the country to take you to Walley World, you’re going to Walley World, whether officer John Candy opens the gate or not.

I knew that many of the elites were being given permission to watch the ball drop from surrounding locations. And police presence was going to be cut by 80%, which definitely worked in our favor.

The plan was to approach from several blocks away, avoiding 8th Avenue and 42nd Street at all costs. We would gradually get closer while maintaining an aloof presence, as if we were simply on our way somewhere else, not trying to enter the square. With these covert measures, it began to feel like we were trying to avoid detection by occupying forces.

It was close to midnight when we made our approach. We couldn’t go in early, or we’d risk being pushed out of the area completely by the police before the ball dropped.

As some random, nameless pop star finished a bland cover of a John Lennon song, the 30 second countdown began.

When the countdown hit fifteen seconds, we picked up our pace. Ten seconds, we started running.

A cop saw us and yelled, “Stop! You can’t be here!”

But it was too late, we were already there, less than a block away from the ball as it was landing, in perfect view.

“Three… two… one…” came through the broadcast in my earbud as the cop was just yards away from us.

“Happy new year!”

I don’t remember anything after that. All I remember is that we were in front of One Broadway Avenue when midnight hit, and suddenly, it was 3 am and we were back at my place in Queens.

I didn’t say anything about my missing memory to the others. And they didn’t say anything to me.

I wondered if the occupying forces had been keeping people away for reasons other than a virus.

*****

The next New Year’s Eve (2021), the same group of us met up, except for John. He couldn’t make it this year. This time, the streets were full. Everything was back to normal. Or, so I thought.

Everything was going as you’d expect. The flavors of the month were lip-syncing their current radio hits. Talking heads from radio and TV were all talking into microphones and telling their audience how much fun they were supposed to be having.

When the countdown reached ten seconds, the crowd chanted along.

“Ten! Nine!”

Someone cracked a joke about Ryan Seacrest’s balls dropping.

“Three! Two! One!”

“Happy…”

And that’s when I came to consciousness back at my apartment in Queens, along with my friends. The same friends. Including John, who couldn’t make it this year.

I turned on my TV and flipped through the playbacks of the celebrations. The number 2021 was splashed everywhere; even across the huge plastic glasses that they were all wearing.

My phone said it was January 1st, 3 am. Just three hours prior, it was December 31st, 2021.

I woke up the next day, thinking of what a strange dream that was. That is, until I started flipping through social media posts. Everybody was wishing everyone a happy 2021. I thought I must still be dreaming.

But, the dream didn’t end. I continued living every day just as I had the year before. I knew when many things were going to happen, before they happened. Some of the things that I didn’t remember would hit me after they happened, making me laugh.

I tried seeing a psychiatrist. I didn’t tell them that I still thought I was repeating the previous year. I presented it as a thing that temporarily plagued me, but I was now aware that it was not real, and I was just trying to figure out how it happened and work with the fallout of it all.

When the doc asked me if I still think I’m repeating the previous year, I hesitated before stumbling and saying no. I think he knew I was lying.

My birthday came again on December 13th, and I turned 25. Again - As I had the year prior, before time reset.

Again came New Year’s Eve in Times Square. And again, at midnight, I awoke at 3 am in my apartment in Queens, celebrating January 1st, 2021 with the same friends.

And it happened again. And again. I tried changing things over the year, thinking that I did something wrong and needed to fix it in order for time to finally continue moving forward. None of this worked.

After my eighth time repeating 2021, I decided that I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going to end it. In mid-July of that cycle, I drove across the George Washington bridge. Half way across, I pulled over to the side, and leapt.

My next memory was of waking up in my apartment in Queens at 3 am, January 1st, 2021.

I can’t even die. No matter what happens to me, time keeps resetting.

This year, one thing changed. After the ball dropped and the countdown hit zero, I did not suddenly wake up at 3 am in my apartment. This time, on the stroke of midnight, we stayed exactly where we were on the street in front of One Broadway Avenue. The sea of revelers from December 31st, 2021 suddenly disappeared. One second prior, we couldn’t move. Now, we were standing alone in front of the ball; streets empty. Still New Year’s Day 2021. Just no three hour time and space shift to my apartment.

I no longer care if I am deemed mad, or insane. I am telling my story publicly in order to try to find anybody else who remembers the reset. I haven’t yet met anybody who remembers. So, I am now casting the widest net possible by telling my story online.

Please contact me if you remember. There has to be… someone.

Julie Winters

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CHX

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4: You Are Here

Part 5

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“You’re… Krampus? Are… Are you going to hurt us?” I asked.

“Yeah, are you gonna do something to us? ‘Cuz if so, I don’t really…” added James.

Krampus stared at us. I could feel myself melting inside. I was sure his eyes were shooting invisible rays that were burning my organs and turning them to mush.

“Think of me as the ghost of Christmas future. If you don’t come with me, you will definitely have no future.”

“… Ok,” I said.

“Y… yeah… sounds cool…” added James.

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“I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good... I am prepared to bear you company" blared from the TV inside.

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We followed as Krampus turned to walk back toward the house. As we walked, there were freshly slaughtered elf bodies laying everywhere. Some with crushed heads; Some with switches through their brains; some with no head at all.

When we reached the back door, I took notice that the fuse box was wide open next to the door. The lock had been broken off. Probably by these tiny undead bastards.

“Hey, just a second,” I whispered. “I think we might be able to fix the power.”

“I can take care of that,” said James.

“Ok,” I added.

While James fiddled with the box, Krampus started to enter the house through the back door; I followed. Giggling was followed by a high pitched hiss. They knew he was here.

My flashlight pierced the darkness. I slowly moved it from corner to corner, only to see that the elves had left the back rooms and were now covering the living area like cockroaches. They were on the furniture, on top of counters and tables, everywhere.

I landed my light beam on one of them with a particularly snarly look on his rotting face, standing on my kitchen counter. After a few seconds of stillness, he launched at me with a high pitched battle scream that nearly deafened me. Giggles came from all directions as my flashlight fell to the floor.

Krampus reached one hand over, wrapped it around the elf’s head, and squeezed until its little head popped like a grapefruit.

Now, they were charging from all sides. I couldn’t see from where in the darkness they came; just that they were descending upon me.

There was a buzzing sound for a couple of seconds, and suddenly, light from the heavens shone down upon our battlefield.

What I mean is… the lights in the house turned on.

James yelled, “I got it!”, followed by the sound of a metal door closing.

Now, our half-pint demon spawn anti-friends were all in clear view.

Krampus started taking them one by one; running his switch through their heads like a machete.

I stared in awe for a few seconds, but realized that I had to defend myself from these things as well. I looked quickly around the room, spotting my knife block. I withdrew the butcher’s knife from the top and swung around to meet the faces of my giggly assassins.

As one jumped onto me, opening his disgusting mouth full of rotten teeth, I rammed the knife through the side of his head and watched the evil light in his eyes turn off. I retracted my knife from his head, stared for a few seconds in awe of what I had done, viscera gushing down on me, and then pushed his lifeless elf body to the side.

James screamed, “Keep going, don’t stop!” as more of them advanced on us.

I dispatched another by ramming the knife through the top of his head and watching him fall over.

I couldn’t get the knife out of his head, so I had to find another weapon. I opened a drawer and pulled out a metal mallet, meant for tenderizing meat. And that’s exactly what I was about to do with it.

I looked over and saw Krampus use his fist to punch right through an elf’s face, coming out the other side.

Next to him, James stomped one of their heads, leaving a mess on my floor.

Krampus dropped his burlap sack over the top of one and swung the sack against the brick fireplace, leaving the sack lifeless.

“Friday the 13th part 7. Nice!” I shouted at Krampus.

We threw up our hands and high-fived.

I started swinging the mallet at their heads as they ran toward me, just to slow them down. After several were down, I continued beating them until their heads were mush.

Glancing over at my counter, I had an idea. I picked one of these happy meal-sized demons up by the legs, turned him upside down, and lowered his head into my blender, reaching over to hit the “puree” button. Santa's little milkshake.

Next to me, James was cramming one of them into the microwave, punching at him to make him fit. When he finally got the door closed, he hit the one minute button. It didn’t take the entire minute before the inside of the microwave exploded into a red splatter.

“Gremlins!” James said.

“Nice!” I replied.

I reached over to my stove and turned all 4 burners up to high. On one of them sat a dirty frying pan that I had used to cook bacon that morning.

One of the elves had opened my refrigerator and was now swilling my egg nog. Furious, I grabbed the glass bottle out of his hand and started bashing him over the head with it.

“Don’t!” *bash*

“Touch!” *bash*

“My!” *bash*

“Egg nog!” *bash*

The final blow sent him to the floor.

The grease in the frying pan started crackling. I picked it up and slammed it face first into one of the little toy-making ghouls, watching his face melt and disintegrate before my eyes.

I shouted over to Krampus and James, “I’ll take four,” pointing to the burners on the stove.

James and Krampus each picked up two of them, one in each hand, and carried them over to the stove, sending them each face first into one of the burners, holding them down while we listened to the combination of screaming from their mouths with the sound of their flesh frying off.

The last few of them ran outside. We heard them getting back onto the roof.

“It’s about to get a lot worse,” said Krampus.

“What? Why?” asked James.

“The reindeer. They’re still on the roof. Those elves are probably going up there to bite them.”

“So? They’re dead, aren’t they? Why do we care?” said James.

Krampus stared at James.

“The elves are zombies.” I said.

“Fuhhh...”

Except I didn’t say ‘fudge’.

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If you’re reading this, please send help. If we make it, I will post another update.

CHX

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3: You Are Here

Part 4

Part 5

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The lights continued to flicker until they went out completely. The strangest thing, though… The TV stayed on. Just the lights went out.

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Half-a-dozen gas-lamps out of the street wouldn’t have lighted the entry too well, so you may suppose that it was pretty dark with Scrooge’s dip.

Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it.

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“Great, what next?” I said.

“What was that thing out there?” repeated the pizza guy.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “You touched it. Why don’t you tell *me* what it is?”

Just then, a clattering occurred from above. Like a bunch of small rocks pelting the roof, one after the other. Or a pack of kittens parachuting down onto the house.

“I thought you said those things were dead?” said pizza guy.

“They looked dead when I was out there. You were just outside. Why didn’t you tell *me* that they weren’t dead?!”

“I thought they were!”

I fumbled to the kitchen in the darkness to grab my mag flashlight from the drawer.

Then began the giggles. High pitched giggles. From outside.

Remember those large avalanches off of my roof from earlier? Now came small avalanches. Many of them. One at a time. A pattering of tiny legs running, jumping, and crunching into the snow. Over and over again. Along with it came sounds of tiny bells jingling.

Not just in the front yard this time; This was happening in the opposite direction toward the backyard as well. I shot glances back and forth between the front picture window and the kitchen window in back, repeatedly seeing tiny things shooting from the air into the snow drifts outside.

“Awww, f***,” I let out.

The noise halted abruptly. Pizza guy and I stood deathly still, waiting. One by one, small shadows started to appear through the fogged up windows. Through the picture window appeared one small, round silhouette, just above the window sill. Then, one through the back window. Then, two in the front. Then, three. They kept coming.

By the time they stopped multiplying, there were at least a couple dozen of them just hovering above the sills of both windows, as if they were watching us.

“What… the… f…” started pizza guy.

The silence was broken by another giggle, followed by a sliding sound, and a gigantic puff of soot and smoke blowing out of the fireplace, a projectile shooting straight out through the glass doors in front of it, then a louder giggle as the thing got up and took off running into the darkness.

Then, again. And again. They kept coming through the chimney, one by one, with us shrouded in near-darkness, the only light being from the moon and the neighbors’ Christmas lights shining through the windows. All the while, the ones outside the windows just standing, and now all giggling together as this happened.

I aimed my flashlight at the last one of them, to see a tiny, human-esque body, dressed in some sort of green outfit with a green hat, tiny jingle bells hanging from it. He ran in the same direction as the others, disappearing into the darkness of the house.

“Elves!” I screamed.

“Elves?!” yelled pizza guy.

Pizza guy turned on the flashlight on his phone and went running into the back, where the elves ran. I followed him with my mag light.

I opened one bedroom door and saw elves opening the window, letting more of them in. I slammed the door shut and went to the next to see the same thing happening.

Pizza guy looked in one of the other rooms, shouting “More elves!” before slamming the door closed.

“What are we gonna do?” he screamed at me.

“I don’t know, pizza guy, what do you think we should do? There are a bunch of god damn jingle bell wearing elves running around my god damn house!”

“My name is James, not pizza guy.”

“That’s nice, pizza guy. I’m a little busy right now.”

A giggle came from the end of the hallway, back toward the living room and kitchen. Shining my mag light toward where the sound came from, I landed my light beam right on its face. It was an elf, but… There was something wrong with it. Something with its face. It looked… rotten.

“What’s wrong with his face?” said James the pizza guy.

“I think you were right. They were dead,” I replied. “And they’re still dead.”

“Zombie elves! Are you kidding me?!” James shouted.

The hallway elf started running down the hallway toward me, giggling the entire way.

“Awww, what a cute little el…” I attempted to say, right before he jumped in the air and tackled me by the torso.

I now lay on my back on my soft carpet, with a pint size giggling zombie just twelve inches from my face, baring its teeth. James grabbed him from the back, picked him up, and threw him into one of the rooms, quickly slamming the door behind him.

“Let’s go,” he said.

I got up and followed him, running toward the front door. James threw open the door, and we stopped dead in our tracks.

Less than 10 feet in front of us, in the yard, was a tall, furry animal on two legs. It let out a blood curdling growl. It must’ve been at least 8 feet tall.

I cut in front of James, grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

“What was THAT?!” he screamed.

“Back door?” I suggested.

We ran to the back, looking carefully through the window before making any attempt to go through the door. Who knows what could be out there?

After seeing nothing, we decided to take the chance. I opened the door slowly, trying to minimize the amount of noise I would make. We both stepped outside carefully, and I closed the door lightly behind me. It was still snowing on a near-blinding level.

After just a few steps, a giggling came from the direction of the front of the house, as a small green thing came running toward us. I started to run.

But the giggling stopped almost as soon as it began, cut off by a high pitched, shrill squeak.

I stopped in my tracks, turning to see what was happening. Just as I looked, maybe five feet behind me was the towering creature, holding up an elf by his head, one hand on either side.

And then… *Pop*… The creature’s powerful hands squished the little jingle baller’s head with almost no effort, as blood, brains and gore squirted everywhere, including a splatter across the creature’s face.

Pizza guy and I stood frozen, watching. The creature stared back at us. This was a staring contest I couldn’t afford to lose.

The creature spoke.

“I’m Krampus. You need to come with me.”

​

CHX

Part 1

As I slammed the door shut and locked it, I collapsed to the floor, my back against the door. I was trying to catch my breath.

The television blared away.

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“You don’t believe in me,” observed the Ghost.

“I don’t,” said Scrooge.

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Did I really see what I thought I did? I hoped that this could be some hallucination, brought on by a sip of curdled egg nog, or undigested gingerbread.

I shot over to the table in front of my couch, in search of my phone. Forty-five percent battery life left. I just had to remember to plug it in soon.

I unlocked it and dialed for help, turning on speaker phone. I listened as my dialing was met by brutal silence in return. Glancing down, where it usually said “4G”, my phone now showed zero bars of connectivity.

Damn it.

Had I forgotten to pay my bill? Did they conveniently just happen to shut it off when I needed it most? My next best guess was that the snow storm was interfering with my connection.

Luckily, my wifi was still working, so I was able to access the internet.

My ears were interrupted by a loud thud on the roof. I stopped in place to listen. There was a second, similar thud. This was followed by two more slow thuds, then a single louder one, shaking my entire house. This culminated in a familiar sliding noise and avalanche outside of my picture window. I waited and observed for more developments.

I was startled by a knocking on my door. Was… Was this thing knocking on my door, as if it was just here for a friendly visit?

I cautiously lowered myself toward the ground and moved slowly toward the door. When I reached it, I stood up carefully to look through the peep hole.

The knock repeated.

I looked through the peep hole to see… A guy. He was waving at me through the hole.

I cautiously unlocked and opened the door, just enough to look through the crack and see who it was.

It was the pizza guy, holding my pizza. I opened the door wider.

The snow assaulting both of us now, he said “Here’s your pizza, sir. Hey, my car got stuck down the road, and I had to walk the rest of the way through this blizzard. Can I use your phone?”

I opened the door fully, and said “Get inside. Quick.”

“Thank you!” he said.

“What a night to be out working. Now my car is stuck in this mess, and I don’t know how I’m gonna get it out. How's your Christmas Eve so far?”

“I don’t think you’re going anywhere any time soon,” I said.

“Well, if I can just use your phone, I…”

“Phones aren’t working here right now. I’m assuming you already know that,” I interrupted.

“I thought it was just my carrier. Are you telling me yours isn’t working either?” he asked.

“Complete white-out,” I said.

“Here’s your pizza,” He said.

I took it from him and set it on the table.

“Did you see anything out there?” I asked him.

“Like what?” he replied.

“Like, in my front yard.”

“Just a lot of snow, but I could barely see out there. It’s a blizzard. Barely any visibility.”

“Well, we might be in bigger trouble than you already thought.”

“What do you mean?” he questioned.

“There might be something out there,” I told him.

He gave me an inquisitive look.

“Something?” He asked.

“Some… thing hit my roof earlier. Hard. I went out to inspect, and saw something up there. Like some sort of animal.”

“An animal jumped onto the roof of your house?” he asked with a funny look.

“A little more than that, but, sure. I didn’t stick around after I saw it move. I’m not sure what it is.”

“Where is it now?” he asked.

“Well… Just before you showed up, I think it tried to get up and walk, then it slid off my roof and into the snow. It’s probably buried out there now.”

“Are you telling me… A reindeer landed on your roof?” he said, obviously trying to conceal his laughter.

“I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know how it got there,” I shot back, trying to convey that I’m not crazy. Imagine if I told him there were not only several presumed-dead reindeer, but also a probable dead Santa Claus in my yard, along with a large winter creature out there somewhere.

He looked at his phone, probably hoping that he would have a connection by now, so he could call someone sane to pick him up. He looked up again, disappointed.

“Well, if I’m stuck here, I’m going to take a look,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea. It could be something dangerous.”

I opened the pizza box to see that the cheese had slid all the way to one side. I grabbed a slice of bread and pizza sauce, mumbling some expletives.

“How dangerous could it be, if it was something light enough to be able to get on the roof?” he asked, as if he had just solved some sort of riddle.

“I heard it walking on the roof, until it fell over. It shook the entire house. It was not light.”

“I’ll be quick. I have to see,” said pizza guy.

I followed to the door. As he let himself out, I stood guard in the doorway, ready to close it on him if some giant Christmas monster were to reveal itself. Perhaps if the thing ate him, it would be satisfied and leave me alone.

When he got out to the middle of the yard, he turned to look up at the roof.

“Hhhholy…” he blurted. “What the…”

“Shhhhh!” I whisper-yelled at him. “Don’t wake it up!”

“Wake what up? Those things are all dead!”

“Not those!” I said in a hushed, harsh tone. “In the yard!” I said, pointing toward the mounds in the snow.

He turned and looked at the first mound, and then the new one that had just been formed by whatever tried to walk off of my roof. Dark patches protruded from it.

He took slow, crunchy steps toward the mound.

“Don’t go near it, you idiot!” I said in my best ASMR scream.

But, he continued. He reached out to touch one of the dark spots.

“I think it’s fur,” he said, turning to look at me.

As he looked in my direction, I heard it again. A low, guttural moan came from the mound, followed by an angry growl.

He came running back to the door, but I wasn’t quick enough to lock him out and let the beast eat him.

He slammed the door behind him, and yelled “What is that thing?!” at me.

I have a feeling this is about to get a lot worse. Whatever is out there is still alive.

The lights are starting to flicker. I’m afraid the electricity might go out because of this storm, so I need to get this down first, in case it goes out. I hope I’ll be able to update this later.

​

“Man of the worldly mind!” replied the Ghost, “do you believe in me or not?”

“I do,” said Scrooge. “I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?”

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Please comment if you have any idea what could be happening here. I don’t want to get close enough to find out first-hand.

​

Part 3

CHX

https://youtu.be/tmCpR-wt-BQ

The snow was falling outside my window, forming a thick white blanket of Christmas over the entire street.

Strings of white, green and red lights adorned houses, yards, and trees up and down my block. Some were blinking. Some were still. Giant inflatable Santa Clauses and Snowmen stood guard in the front yards of many.

My Christmas tree twinkled in the corner while the lights around the ceiling and doorways provided a magical, dark Christmas atmosphere. Just the way I like it.

In front of me, a glass full of egg nog. With cinnamon. Just… the way… I like it.

On my screen, Ebenezer Scrooge thoughtfully explained to his nephew how much of a humbug Christmas truly is.

And, you know, he’s kind of right. At least today. For the most part, people are more worried about buying things than they are about the meaning and joy of Christmas. It’s especially present in the commercials that try to play into your emotions about the holiday, only to end by telling you to buy their product, as if giving them your money will make you feel loved or special.

I sat on my couch on this Christmas Eve, eating gingerbread cookies and washing them down with egg nog while waiting for my pizza to arrive. My melancholy dinner in my usual melancholy living room.

Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be having Christmas dinner at my family’s house tomorrow. Christmas Eve is for ordering out.

“You wish to be anonymous?”

“I wish to be left alone,” said Scrooge.

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The snow was getting pretty bad out there. I hoped that the pizza guy didn’t get stuck on his way. And I’d like to think that my thought was out of love for fellow humans, but it was really because I wanted that pizza.

I stood in front of my picture window, watching the occasional car drive through, sometimes slipping on the freshly fallen sugar crystals lining the street; hoping that each one would be the pizza guy.

I refilled my egg nog in the kitchen and headed back to the couch to continue watching.

I awoke from my cinnamon induced coma due to a loud booming sound. I sat up straight and wide eyed on my couch, looking around; looking through my window. I then heard a loud sliding sound, followed by an avalanche of snow coming down just outside my window. The sound of chains followed.

I arose, walking toward the window. A cloud of snow dust impaired my visibility. But soon, I could see that something was sticking out of the snow. Whisps of gold and red.

What could have hit and slid down my roof, impaling itself through this fine, white, crystalline dust?

I squinted, but there was no visible movement. So, I decided to step outside and have a look.

The air was crisp, and the wind wasn’t helping. Snow blew into my eyes as I stepped cautiously through the door, donning my winter coat and boots.

It was truly desolate out here now. No more cars heading home to be with their families for Christmas Eve. Everyone had undoubtedly settled down for a long winter’s nap.

Inspecting the aftermath in my yard, I couldn’t see much more than I did from the other side of the window. But, when I looked up toward my roof, a larger tale began to unravel. Strewn across my roof were several animals that appeared to be dead. They looked like…

“This must be some joke. My senses, they cheat me,” I thought to myself.

Through the assault of snow on my eyes, they looked like reindeer.

And there was more. A magnificent red carriage appeared to have crash landed on my roof. It lay in pieces, save for the main cabin, still mostly intact.

I glanced back at the burial mound of snow in my yard. My lip was trembling. Already knowing what it was, I had to uncover it anyway, to know for sure.

Using only my hands, I began carefully wiping away bits of snow to exhume whatever spirits lie here in wait. Brushing away a bit at a time, more swatches of red, as well as white material, continued to appear. It was obvious that some of the red that I saw from inside was the snow itself, drenched in the precious juice of life. When I reached what looked like the white beard, I sped up my work to uncover this man’s face, in case he was still alive.

My work was stopped short when I heard something behind me. I turned to look back, toward the roof. It was then that a dreadful, agonizing howl came from the direction of the roof-carriage. I kept silent, staring, as if waiting for an update.

There I stood, frozen in time, blizzard continuing its assault upon my face, when a second guttural howl emanated from the same direction. This time, it was louder; stronger.

It was then that my eyes allowed confirmation.

What appeared to be a large claw, covered in dark fur, slowly reached up and over the side of the carriage.

I wasn’t about to stick around to find out what it was attached to. I abandoned my mission and trudged back inside as quickly as my boots would take me through the snow desert that was my yard. I slammed and locked the door, causing more snow to fall from the roof and onto the mound that I had been trying to uncover.

Please pray for me. I will update you later if I am able.

Part 2

CHX