Never Fear (45 page)

Stephen pulled out his wallet, but
when we got to the window, no one was there. Lights flickered
inside.

“
Maybe they’re closed for
the night.”

A breath of frigid air seared my
lungs. I rubbed my gloved hands together. “No way. The music is
on.” I knew the routine. Thirty minutes before closing time, they’d
shut off the music and start dimming the lights. Still, I looked
around and didn’t see another soul. Where was the laughter coming
from? I shoved my hands in my coat pockets to hide that fact that I
was shaking.

Stephen shrugged. “Guess we’re getting
in free. You’re a cheap date.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe
we should just go. Mom is probably worried.”

That earned me a wry look.

“
Now you’re worried about
Mom? Not buying it. You’re just scared.”

I shoved him. “So what?”

“
This was your idea.” He
grabbed my hand and tugged me along. “Come on. Let’s see if we can
find anyone else and then we’ll hit it.”

He was right. This was my idea, and he
did seem to be having fun. The least I could do was go along for
the ride. I’d just have to keep my eyes peeled for serial killers
lurking in the shadows. And murderous elves. And mutant reindeer.
Suddenly, dealing with Mom seemed a whole lot safer.

We walked along the winding path. Bing
Crosby crooned from the overhead speakers. Every building we came
across was empty. The lights really were pretty, but I couldn’t
ditch the nagging feeling that something bad was going to happen. I
wondered if female intuition ran parallel to paranoia. I wondered
if that’s what my mother had thought at first.

I shrieked when an elf dashed into our
path before running away, disappearing behind another gingerbread
house, the biggest house in the village. Santa’s house.

Stephen laughed, tugged on my hair.
“Chill, Stella. It’s all part of the fun.”

“
Really?” I asked, my gaze
darting around. “Because he looked like he was seriously running
for his life.” I willed my heart to calm and worried the pounding
organ would blast a hole through my chest. “You’re probably right,
though. Fun. At least we’re not alone anymore.” Surely the elf was
part of the staff. But what if he wasn’t?

I stared at the house, the twinkling
lights that flashed red rather than the traditional white they’d
used for as long as I could remember. Cold seeped into my bones.
“Stephen?”

“
Yeah?”

“
Do you see
that?”

“
See what?”

I pointed toward the house. I should
have gone with my gut when we first got here. I should have grabbed
his hand and raced back to the truck. But I didn’t. Instead, I
crept toward the house, toward the body that lay prone just outside
the open door.

The woman wore red shoes, the tips
sinking into the fresh snow. Green and white striped tights covered
her legs. Her long jacket was green with red cuffs and collar. I
recognized the standard Sleigh Land uniform. I still had
mine.

“
What the hell?” Stephen
crouched next to the body.

I shook my head. Back and forth. Back
and forth. “Don’t touch her. Something’s wrong.”

He looked up at me, his brows creased.
“Obviously. Check your phone. See if you have any signal. We have
to get her some help.”

Something told me she was beyond help.
Still, I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked for bars. Not a
single one appeared on the screen.

Stephen inched closer.

“
Don’t touch
her!”

He whipped around. “Jesus, Stella. I
have to check for a pulse.”

“
She doesn’t have
one.”

“
How do you know?” He
turned back and moved her dark hair away from her neck. He flipped
the body over and shook her as if he could jar her back to
life.

“
I just—” The words lodged
in my throat. I fought to remain standing, dizziness swamping me.
“Stop it. She’s dead. Please, Stephen. Stop touching
her.”

“
You’re right. You’re
right.” Stephen said, easing the dead woman back to the
ground.

I stared at the gaping wound on her
chest, swore I could see exposed organs beneath broken ribs. Blood
slipped from her body and leached into the snow. So much
blood.

What happened to her? Her eyes were
wide open, staring at nothing yet reflecting the horror she must
have felt when the animal struck. Surely it was an animal. One with
claws and teeth. Nothing else could have done this to her. I
spotted two more bodies huddled in the corner of the room. Both
wore elf costumes just like the woman. They didn’t move. Blood
pooled around their legs.

Stephen stood, wiping frantically at
the blood soaking through his jeans.

I backed away from the massacre. My
feet struggled to keep up with the pounding of my heart. “Let’s go.
We have to get out of here.” Children’s laughter echoed in the
distance, taunting me.

I barely heard my
brother’s warning over my own panicked breathing. I stumbled
backward. Someone grabbed me from behind and I screamed. Stephen’s
eyes mimicked the dead woman’s, wide and full of horror. He raced
toward me. I couldn’t move, other than to flick my gaze down.
Strong hands, tipped with black claws gripped my forearms. Tighter,
tighter they squeezed. I whimpered in pain. My thoughts were
frantic even as everything seemed to slow down around me.
Think, think, think.

“
Move!” Stephen picked up
speed.

I twisted my body as he pulled a
linebacker move and drilled his shoulder into my captor’s gut. The
momentum sent us all into a tailspin. I landed on top of Stephen,
who landed on top of . . .

I swallowed another scream, grabbed
Stephen’s coat and pulled with every ounce of strength I had. Our
feet tangled and we fell again.

The creature pushed
Stephen away and we went flying across the path. I landed on my
back. All air left my chest in one
whoosh
. Frozen, I bit back a cry as
the monster walked toward us. He was dressed like Santa, had a long
beard like Santa and a large bag strapped to his back, but his legs
were all animal, with cloven hooves like a goat or a deer. His skin
was tinged green, his teeth long and sharp—rows and rows of teeth.
He had a hooked nose and elf-like ears with multiple piercings. Two
red horns jutted from his forehead. He laughed, the sound sharp and
sinister as if he’d emerged from the depths of Hell. We struggled
to get to our feet. His fetid breath washed over me and I
gagged.

This wasn’t Santa Claus.

This was Krampus.

Krampus didn’t exist. He didn’t. Like
Santa, he was a myth told to children to get them to behave. But he
looked just as my mother had described him.

“
I am no myth.”

The cadence of his voice nearly
shredded my skin.

I shoved off the ground as he flicked
his long, black tongue toward me like a frog catching a fly. His
tongue scraped along my cheek. Stephen grabbed my arm and pulled me
away. We ran toward the entrance, the sound of hooves clacking on
the cement just behind us.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Stephen slipped and went down on all
fours. Krampus snagged Stephen’s ankle and pulled him backward.
Stephen clawed at the ground but couldn’t manage to gain any
purchase. I reached for his hand. Desperation clogged my
throat.

“
Go, Stella!” His voice
quivered.

I shook my head. “I can’t. I’m not
leaving you.”

Krampus sank his claws into Stephen’s
leg. Blood spurted like a geyser, nailing Krampus in the face. My
twin wailed and I felt the pain as if it was my own. That
tongue—that grotesque tongue—lapped at Stephen’s blood.

I launched myself at the beast,
wishing I had a weapon. I slammed into Krampus, my bones jarring at
the impact. His hand clamped around my neck and he lifted me off
the ground. I kicked and punched, fought with everything I had,
trying to buy Stephen some time. Krampus gave me a brutal shake and
threw me like a ragdoll. I landed in a heap, tears streaming down
my face.

He latched on to Stephen again. He
tore at him with claws and teeth, beating him with a bundle of
branches, shredding his skin to the bone. I watched, horrified,
paralyzed, as Krampus destroyed the other half of me. The sky was
raining blood, a deluge of claret gore.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but I
couldn’t erase the images. The screams, the screams, the screams
were too loud. I pushed my palms tight to my ears, but nothing
could drown out the sound of my brother’s agony.

Silence.

Too much silence.

This wasn’t real.

An organ rendition
of
Silent Night
filled the air.

The music swelled and still, I kept my
eyes clamped shut.

Maybe I was just as insane as Mom. A
genetic defect that made me see things that didn’t really exist. I
took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Krampus stood about twenty
feet away, stuffing Stephen’s mangled body into his bag. I gagged
as Stephen’s blood, along with who knew how many others, soaked
through the bag, staining the snow bright red.

I couldn’t save my brother, but he
would want me to save myself. Grief swamped me, but fear and
self-preservation won out. I stood, my feet unsteady beneath
me.

One step.

Two.

Hot breaths feathered across my neck,
branches cracked against my back nearly knocking me down. I didn’t
hesitate. I took off, headed for the truck until I remembered
Stephen had the keys. I looked over my shoulder, certain Krampus
followed me, but I didn’t see him. I needed a place to hide.
Somewhere to hole up until help came.

I dove beneath a crop of evergreens,
slithered back as far as I could. He would find me. I knew he
would. He would see my footprints in the snow. I should keep
moving. Keep running. But I knew it wouldn’t matter. The end result
would be the same. He would come. And he would kill me.

Why was Krampus here? He was the
anti-Santa, the evil monster that punished children who misbehaved.
What had any of us done to deserve such punishment? I thought about
the horrible thoughts I’d had about my mother, about how we’d
skipped out on Christmas last year. But what about the others
Krampus had killed? Maybe this was the ultimate retribution for
secrets and lies. The reasons didn’t matter. He was coming to get
me.

My nerves huddled together beneath my
skin, a panicked bundle seeking comfort that would never come. I
ripped off my gloves and scratched, scoring my nails across my cold
skin, leaving trails of blood like a map, a confession of my
ensuing insanity.

I raised my hands over my head,
praying, begging for someone to take away this pain and terror.
Hooves clacked just beyond the trees, a mocking answer to my futile
prayers.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Thick, black claws parted the
branches.

He reached in, snapped his fingers
together like a lobster claw. I pressed my back against the trunk
of the tree, but his sharp claws scraped my neck. He pulled his arm
back, blood—my blood, dripped from his fingers.

Clutching my throat, I scrambled to
crawl out the backside of the trees. He latched on and wrapped a
chain around my ankle, dragging me just like he had dragged
Stephen.

Cold. So cold.

Mom was right. Evil
existed.

The trees disappeared and I was face
down in the snow, my tears freezing on my cheeks. He flipped me
over. A pair of horrific green eyes peered at me, and I knew, I
knew, I knew…

A slash of his claws. Once.
Twice.

No one could help me now.

A FAMILY CHRISTMAS
TERROR

CHAPTER 14

“
Krampus is as bad as that
Gryla hag from the Iceland story,” Nick said.

“
I told you that in Europe
there were many Christmas stories that were told to make children
behave,” Judy said. “And if you make lumps in those potatoes, you
are going to find out what real punishment is, mister.”

“
I can’t help it. This is
hard,” Nick whined.

“
Oh please.” Nancy grabbed
the bowl of potatoes from him. “Let me do it.”

Nick pulled her close and gave Nancy a
fat wet kiss on the cheek.

“
Oh Christ, Nick.” Nancy
wiped her cheek. “Stop being such a jerk.”

“
And how weird is it that
those two people in
Sleigh Me
were twin brother and sister?” Nick
said.

“
Yeah, it’s like the book
knew,” Jack said.

Everyone stopped what they were doing
for a moment. Thinking.

Jack broke the silence. “Where do you
want me to put the vegetables, Mom?”