Shane ed. - A Hacked-Up Holiday Massacre - Halloween Is Going to Be Jealous

Then the pressure from the big man’s hand disappeared.

After what seemed like forever, Crystal slowly opened her eyes and noticed that the big man was now gone like the last wisp of smoke from a snuffed candle.

She quickly climbed out of bed to check on her little sister.

And that’s when she let out a blood-curdling scream.

HE WAS ALREADY LOADING up gifts from under the twinkling tree and stuffing them into his already full sack when he heard a scream coming from upstairs.

Now I’ve got something to dread. He knew he should have finished the girl off, just like he had done to her parents and sister, but there was just something about her that he couldn’t bring himself to slice and dice her like all the others tonight. As he continued to load the last of the presents into the already bulging sack, he felt a stir in his heart. Something strange was happening, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on it, nor did he have the time to do so.

The pounding of footsteps from above and another scream made him turn his head with a jerk towards the staircase. Yes, she would be coming downstairs next and that would probably mean she would run to the phone and call the police. He definitely didn’t need that. Oh, no. Not on a night like tonight—the Eve of the happiest day of the year.

Jerking the rope on the sack to close it, he hurried over to the fireplace. He heard the girl start down the stairs and knew he had to work fast.

He pulled the knife from his belt with his right hand and reached under his heavy coat with his left. He pulled six nails off a chain that was hanging around his neck and placed them pointed end into his mouth. He looked through the near-darkness to the staircase and saw a blur jump from the third to last step, turn, and then race to the back of the house, towards the kitchen where he assumed the phone was located.

He quickly dug his free hand into his soggy, left pocket, and pulled out the first of the six hands he had stuffed inside.

As he heard the girl start screaming, presumably into the phone to the police, he pointed the handle side of the knife away from him, and used it to start hammering each hand to the mantle of the fireplace.

As he worked, he repeated the line he had said earlier, but changing the words a bit this time.

The hands are hung by the chimney with care…in hopes that folks from everywhere far and wide will know that Christmas is the time to die! He laughed.

He then raced to the window and threw up the sash and leaped into the night and was ready to run away fast…

When something that felt like a sheet of snow coming from the roof smashed him to the ground.

Suddenly, he was being pounded in the sides and back of his head by big, heavy fists. He was pinned to the ground by a great mass and the blows started to rock his head and jaw back and forth. He felt teeth begin to crack and his jaw begin to bust as the onslaught continued, the bones in his head felt like they were going to turn to dust.

CRYSTAL WAS WRAPPED IN a large, Christmas tree covered blanket as the first of several police cruisers and other emergency personnel pulled up in front of the house and came running towards her. All at once they began shouting, “Did you see where he went?”, “Are you okay, miss?”, “What the hell happened here?” and the like and then they started to go about their business.

When she was finished being treated by one very calm, and very good looking young EMT, she heard something coming from above—on the roof. Her heart began to pound in her chest, as she jumped off the porch and ran into the front yard screaming, “He’s up there. He’s on the roof. I hear him…I hear him, damnit!”

With a crime scene to secure, a killer on the loose, and a growing crowd of neighbors coming out of their homes to see what was going on, no one seemed to be paying Crystal any attention.

But then, Crystal noticed two things at once—a figure on the ground outside her living room window, lying in the middle of a large patch of blood soaked snow, and a large, red figure standing up on the roof, waving to her.

She lifted her hand from underneath the blanket to do the same, but quickly put it back under. She didn’t want people to see her ‘waving to someone on the roof’ and think she was crazy, especially since that was probably what they were already thinking with her family being slaughtered and all. Besides, with everything that did happen she might very well be going crazy and seeing imaginary people, Santa Claus of all things, up on the roof.

Crystal then thought she heard a clatter on the roof and a shout into the night.

But, that was just another piece of the myth that she would keep inside, nice and tight, for the rest of her life.

SUNSHINE BEAMED

by Marie Green

Sunshine could make peanut shapes under her slippers. Two feet placed close together in the shallow dusting of morning snow and a quick hop away made peanuts, side by side, in neat pairs of slipper prints. Soon the driveway was covered, resembling a shell-littered steakhouse floor. Puffs of warm, steamy breath billowed above in the frigid morning air, the small clouds dissipating against the festively-lit facade of the neighbor’s house across the dirt road. Delicate, multicolored bulbs shone against tufts of perfectly fallen, glistening snow. Slipper clad footfalls added a cold crunch to the still morning as she stepped across the road, closer to the warm vision the neighbor’s yard offered. A beautifully decorated Spruce was just within reach across the pickets. She breathed deep, stealing the strong, wintery scent of snow-coated pine. One hand rose to touch it, fingers grazing the scarlet tinsel and sharp needles. A dreamy, envious sigh became frost in the chill, dying hopelessly.

Santa Claus comes to houses like this.

Crows and magpies squawked piercing threats at one another up the road to the right, startling away the daydream. Someone had run over a deer last night and a bunch of scavenging birds fought for their share of the bloodied carcass. There was a big mess on the side of the road. A portion of the birds parted from the kill as she approached, shrieking as they dove at other birds in the air, giving a glimpse of the mutilation. Shades of brilliant red contrasted against the fresh snow and black and white birds. That’s a no no, thoughts chided. Shouldn’t be so close.

A racking shiver jolted her away from the fascination of watching the birds fight. Sunshine wiped her wet nose on the matted fabric of her pajama gown and resigned to walking back up the driveway to her own house. As she passed through the gap in the fence that was once a gate, her foot glanced off a can. A short clatter ensued as it smashed against a snow-covered pile of empties. Blue aluminum peeked through the snow like ornamental bulbs.

A cough sounded inside the house, stilling Sunshine in her peanut tracks.

No one will be happy if I ain’t inside while they sleep. No one needs to spend their time watching to be sure I don’t wander off and get lost.

As expected, no one came outside to see what she was doing. She continued toward the front door but just as her hand touched the icy knob, the urge struck one last time to see the pretty Christmas tree across the road. A lip quivered atop a trembling chill-pink chin.

As she turned to the darkened windows of the house to which she was consigned, her gaze came to rest on the thin branches of the sole, sickly pine in the yard. Picking up a can showed how much the can’s weight also resembled a Christmas bulb, and she carefully threaded a few of the tree’s needles through the aluminum tab to hold it in place.