Scary Story Time | Dark Woods Demon | A Creepypasta


Original Story

Music by Dr. Creepen

Intro and ending music by Myuu

Author’s note: This story is based on actual events. By Johnny and Elijah Henderson



Jacob cursed as he pushed through the thick underbrush trying to make his way to the tree stand he had built earlier in the summer. He was certain that this location would give him an optimal line of sight to the neighboring field in which he frequently saw large herds of deer. This was going to be his year, and he was sure of it. This is the year that I bring home my trophy buck, he thought, as he recalled the events of the day so far.

He had awakened at 4:30 A.M.  He began to prepare for a long day in the woods, on the back side of his farm. His first order of business had been to locate and rescue his gloves and camouflaged hunting gear from whatever undisclosed area of his home that his wife had hidden them. He would most assuredly need them this morning to protect him from the bitter cold November morning.

How could it be this cold, this early in the year, he wondered as he started to work on his second task of the day, which was to prepare a breakfast that would stick to his ribs long into the day. He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted this morning, but he finally settled on toast, country ham, and scrambled eggs that were just a little too runny. He topped it all off with a large cup of coffee that had left a bitter after taste on his tongue, in fact, he could still taste it. After accomplishing tasks one and two, he packed himself a bologna and cheese sandwich for lunch, grabbed his Remington 30.06 hunting rifle, a thermos of coffee, and headed out the door.

He loaded his gear into his truck and pulled out of the drive way and turned right onto the one lane black top road that led to the backside of his property. After about two and a quarter miles he turned right again off the black top onto a dirt road that was gouged with deep mud filled ruts. He had travel about half a mile down that pitiful rut filled excuse for a road when he came to his desired location. He got out of his truck and loaded his gun and sauntered off into the woods.

Jacob had gone little more than 500 yards into the densely wooded tree line when he began to wish that he had put on an extra layer of clothing to shield him against the chilly morning air. Ten minutes out of the truck and he was already cold, and it was made worse by the cloudy overcast day, and the wind that was blowing steadily through the trees, making the autumn leaves rattle like dry bones. Oh well, he thought, it’s going to be a good day anyway, especially if I bring home a big one! Jacob took about ten more steps when an uneasy feeling began to creep over him, he felt as though someone had stepped over his grave. He got the distinct feeling that he was being watched, but by whom, this was his property, and it was posted, no one had permission to be on his land.

He had to be alone, but if he was alone why couldn’t he shake this eerie feeling that was scratching at the base of his skull? Something was off today, there was a deafening silence there in the forest, no bird, or insects, only the sound of the wind in the trees. Convincing himself that it was nothing more than a case of nerves, he continued to press on until he came to a clearing not far from his tree stand.

Stepping into the clearing Jacob saw the remains of what appeared to be a large deer, he wasn’t quite able to make out what he was seeing from this distance because the sun wasn’t completely up yet and the forest was still enveloped in shadows. Jacob walked closer to get a better look, and found that he had been correct.  It was a deer, a large eight point buck in fact. Looking at the remains, he felt a sense of dread come over him and icy fingers danced along his spine.

Something about this kill just didn’t seem right. The throat was completely torn out, and the stomach was ripped open, plus several of the internal organs were missing. It was the most grisly thing he had ever seen. This definitely wasn’t a coyote kill, and no hunter would have done this; they would have taken the head to have it mounted.

What could have done this, he wondered? A fear like nothing he had ever experienced before began to wash over him in waves, what is going on, he thought? At nearly 225 pounds, and well over six foot, he wasn’t one to give into fear, but now he couldn’t seem to calm down, and his heart was beating like a trip hammer.

The feeling that he was being watched was getting stronger by the minute, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was moments away from a bad situation. He slowly started to back away from the mangled carcass, and head back to his truck, and back to safety. No more than six steps into his journey his blood turned to ice in his veins, as a deep guttural, wailing scream shattered the eerie silence, and what was left of his courage.

He had grown up on the farm all his life, and had been an experienced hunter since childhood, he was familiar with every animal in this part of the state, not even a cougar, bob cat, or bear could have produced the scream that had torn through the early morning forest and filled him with such a bone chilling apprehension.

Primal fear now gave way to stark terror as he chambered a round into his 30.06, and turned around only to find there was nothing behind him. His mind raced with confusion, and he was confronted with a million thoughts at once. What should I do? What could it be? Should I run? Am I going to die? His survival sense kicking into overdrive, Jacob decided to continue on his previously contrived plan which was go to the truck, and get out of there while the getting was good.

Slowly, and cautiously he made his way toward the perceived salvation of his vehicle, silently praying every step of the way. With three hundred yards separating him from his only avenue of escape, Jacob began to hear heavy foot falls off to his left. He could hear the crunching of withered leaves, sticks and debris that littered the forest floor. Summoning every ounce of courage that remained within him, he forced himself to look in that direction, and that is when he saw the dark silhouette that followed him through the densely tangled forest.

Quickening his pace, he redoubled his efforts to reach the truck and get to a phone and call the sheriff, the game warden, or anyone that would listen. He couldn’t tell what it was that was stalking him, but he could clearly see that it towered more than 7 feet, and was incredibly massive.

Jacob couldn’t help but think that he was about to become a national statistic, a person who left home under normal circumstances and just disappeared without a trace. How many people, he wondered go into the woods and just vanish, and the authorities just assume that they have become lost, or injured, or been the victims of animal attacks, with their bodies never recovered. Please God, don’t let that happen to me, he thought, as he drew closer and closer to his truck.

75 yards became 50, and 50 became 30, and 30 became 10. Like a miracle he was back and opening his door. Throwing his rifle inside he pulled himself up into the cab, and started the engine and hit the gas, but the truck went nowhere. He had parked in a large mud puddle, and now the tires simply spun, slinging mud 30 feet behind him.

Oh no, not now he thought, I can’t be stuck, not now. Allowing himself a moment to think Jacob remembered, this truck is a four wheeled drive, there is no way I can be stuck. Reaching down he locked his truck in four wheel drive, and was prepared to punch the gas and leave this nightmare behind.

Unfortunately for Jacob some nightmares are not so easily left behind, and there is nothing worse than a nightmare you can’t wake up from, and Jacob was about to learn that the hard way. Hearing something to his right he instinctively turned, and immediately wished that he had not. It took him maybe a half second to turn his head, but he would have given anything in the world to have that half second back, because it was the last moment that his world would ever seem normal again.

In that split second, his world changed, it was no longer a place where the world was light, and safe, where he was just a husband, and a father, and a guy that liked to hunt, and watch football on the weekends. That reality had evaporated away like early morning fog, and all that was left was a world where monsters existed, and things really went bump in the night. And now an ambassador from that nightmare realm was standing just outside his passenger door, a visible reminder that his world had been turned upside down.

Jacob screamed as he stared transfixed on this escapee from a horror movie. In his most terrifying, fevered, dream he couldn’t have imagined that such a thing could exist. It was hideously ugly, easily standing 8 feet tall, with a thick, muscular body. It looked very apish in appearance, but then again it didn’t. There was just something about that face that was just wrong, almost like an obscene amalgamation of man and animal that had gone horribly awry.  It was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen, it was completely covered with thick shaggy black hair that was matted in areas with God only knows what, and it walked on two legs, not four like you would expect from some kind of animal.

What was this thing that had shattered his perception of reality? Was it a demon? Was a werewolf? It can’t be, he thought, those things don’t exist, maybe it was some kind of reject from the island of Dr. Moreau. Whatever it was, it was staring at him, and it did not look happy.

The menacing juggernaut threw its enormous head back and let out a bloodcurdling scream that resonated throughout the surrounding area and seemed to vibrate him to his very core. Shocked back into action Jacob threw his truck into gear and took off as though he were being chased by the very hounds of hell.

Jacob, mind racing, wondered what he was going to do. How will I ever feel safe on this farm again, he thought? Are my wife and children in danger? Where did this thing come from, and will anyone believe me? The whirlwind of thoughts that swirled through Jacob’s mind came to an immediate stop as he slammed on his brakes and nearly slid off the road.

In a state of disbelief Jacob sat staring at the large hackberry tree that laid across the dirt road and blocked his path, preventing him from reaching the blacktop, and guaranteed safety. How is this even possible, he thought. I just came down this road not even thirty minutes ago, and this path was clear. However this tree came to be across the road, it was painfully obvious to Jacob that he had to get that tree moved if he was going to make it home. Since he had neither chain to pull the tree out of the road, nor did he have a saw with which he could cut up this unexpected barricade, he was left with few viable options, one of which was walking, which he discounted almost immediately.

The most logical course of action that he could come up with was to call for help. His best friend Kenny Patterson owned the farm just over from his; if he were home he could bring a saw and cut the tree up for him. Jacob, with his nerves still frazzled and frayed, reached into his glove box and pulled out his cell phone and clumsily dialed Kenny’s number. The phone rang six times and Jacob was about to give up when Kenny answered the phone and said, “Hey, ugly, what do you want this early in the morning?”

As quickly as he could, he related the recent events to Kenny and said, “Man, please hurry, I’m not kidding there is something out here.”

Kenny hearing the shakiness in his friend’s voice assured him that he would be there in a matter of minutes. Jacob thanked him and hang up the phone, and braced himself for what he was sure would be the longest few minutes of his life.

Sitting motionless with bated breath there in the truck, every sound made his imagination run wild with fear and expectance. Even though little more than three minutes had passed since he had spoken to Kenny, it felt as if hours had passed. Each tick of the clock seemed to be an eternity. Jacob frequently checked in all directions for any sign that, that nightmarish monstrosity had pursued him. In every shadow that the forest, and this irritatingly cloudy day produced he thought he saw the shape of the black beast that had followed him out of the woods, and he was afraid that he would lose his sanity long before Kenny arrived to clear the tree out of his pathway.

After what seemed like a lifetime Jacob heard the sound of Kenny’s old truck sputtering up the road, and in just moments he was able to see the old red Chevrolet as it made its way closer to him. Jacob’s spirits lifted when he saw his old friend, and a sense of relief washed over him as he realized that he was no longer alone.

Stepping out of his truck Jacob said, “Man, what took you so long, I asked you to hurry.”  Kenny, with an indignant look on his face said, “What are you talking about, you only called me eleven minutes ago, I think I made pretty good time.” Jacob could hardly believe that only eleven minutes had passed; it had seemed so much longer. After apologizing to his friend, and telling him exactly how happy he was to see him, both men walked over to the fallen tree, and made a discovery that startled them both.

The tree had not broken, it had not been cut, it had been pushed over and completely uprooted. All around the tree were large, bipedal footprints that had a somewhat human appearance to them, but if they were human, the owner would require a size 28 shoe.

Jacob and Kenny looked at each other, and then without a word went to work on the tree. Kenny took a Husqvarna chainsaw from the bed of his truck and began to cut up the fallen blockade, meanwhile Jacob pulled the logs and debris from the road. Mission accomplished, Kenny put away his saw and he and Jacob were about to get in their vehicles and leave, but before either man had even opened their doors, an earsplitting scream, that would have filled a Banshee with paralyzing fear erupted from the woods behind them.

Warily Jacob walked over to Kenny and whispered, “That’s what I was telling you about, I don’t know what that thing is man, but it looks like some kind of monster, and I think we need to get out of here, now.”

Kenny, who looked as though the blood had drained completely out of his face became very pale as he said to Jacob: “Jacob man, I’ve never mentioned this to anyone before now, but over the last few months that thing has been killing off a few of my cows. Their throats are usually torn out, and the bodies are mangled, and broken. I didn’t want anyone to accuse me of being crazy and making stuff up, so I never said anything about it. But, that’s the reason I rushed over when you called. I’ve heard that sound a few times off in the distance at night, but never this close, so I think you are right old buddy, it’s time to go.”

Cautiously and with a sense of urgency, Jacob and Kenny climbed into their vehicles and expeditiously made their way back to the blacktop. Turning left, both vehicles began the two and a half mile trek that led back to Jacob’s house so they could decide what course of action should be taken.

Jacob could feel the temperature drop as snow began to gently fall. He reached over and turned his wipers on as snow began to pelt the windshield harder. As he passed his neighbor, William Springer’s farm, he noticed a herd of deer grazing in the field that bordered his own property.

Having put a bit of distance between himself and the nightmare he had just encountered, Jacob felt a renewed sense of security as his fatigued nerves began to calm. Not willing to let this opportunity pass him by, Jacob turned on his hazard lights and pulled to the shoulder of the road, and signaled Kenny to do the same. Kenny instinctively knew what Jacob was thinking as pulled in behind him, and turned his ignition off. Getting out of his truck Kenny said, “What are you doing, man, we need to get out of here, now.” Jacob said, “I know, I know, and we will in just a minute man, I just can’t turn this down man. I have to take the shot that is a six point buck standing there. It’s not the trophy that I wanted but at least I won’t go home empty handed, and after the morning we’ve had I think we deserve a little something good.”  “Alright, just take the shot so we can go, I still don’t feel right about this,” Kenny said.

Steadying his rifle across the hood of his truck Jacob zeroed in on the buck and prepared to fire. That’s when he heard Kenny make a gasping noise and whisper, “Oh my God.” “What is it man, what’s wrong with you?” “Raise your scope three inches,” he said. Raising the scope Jacob immediately saw what had been the cause of Kenny’s alarm.

Standing just outside the tree line in the edge of the field was the creature that they had left behind, not even five minutes. Was this thing following them, was it after the deer, what was it doing? Jacob watched the creature through his scope for a full 30 seconds before it ever moved, and when it did, it ignored him and the deer and started to lope off toward William’s barn that was just about 500 yards from where the woodland demon had been standing. Jacob called out to Kenny and said: “Kenny, call William and tell him there is something trying to get in his barn.” “I know he has at least two mares with foals in there, and if that thing gets in it will kill all of them.”

In an attempt to be rid of this monster, werewolf, Sasquatch, Wendigo, or whatever it was, Jacob fired a shot but missed. The creature turned in their direction and glared at them through red hate filled eyes, and then began to run toward then at full steam. Kenny who was still on the phone with William screamed at Jacob to get in his truck and go. Jacob did as he was told, and Kenny followed suit.

Starting their trucks Jacob and Kenny both raced to Jacob’s house as though they were driving on the NASCAR circuit. Arriving at home Jacob, gun in hand, ran inside to get a phone book so that they could call the game warden and the police and get some kind of animal control out there to get rid of this thing. Jacob had just stepped out on his front porch when they heard gunfire coming from over at William’s place. Dropping the phone book and running back inside, Jacob grabbed his 12 gauge pump shot gun and some shells and handed them to Kenny, who took little time in loading it. Jacob and Kenny now locked and loaded, walked together to Kenny’s truck preparing to mount up a rescue for their neighbor William.

Simultaneously, both of them stopped in their tracks as an uneasy but familiar feeling crept over them, and Jacobs’ Rottweiler, and two German Shepherds began to whimper, and ran under the front porch to hide. Kenny, whose throat had suddenly gone dry as a bone, whispered to Jacob and said: “I have a really bad feeling about this.”

No sooner had the words escaped his lips, they heard a deafening scream erupted from the forest off to their right, and the creature exploded from the trees in front of them. Until now, neither man had been able to fully appreciate the colossal size and scope of the beast, but standing less than thirty feet away they were almost overcome by the sheer magnitude of it. Jacob had seen it up close earlier from his truck while sitting down, and had guessed the height at maybe eight feet, but now standing there looking up he could tell that this fellow was eight and a half, or nine feet tall, and would tip the scale at 800 to a 1000 pounds. It had inhumanly long arms that bulged with thick ropey muscle, that were easily seen beneath its long shaggy black hair, which covered it from head to toe.

The chest was larger than a 55 gallon drum, and there was little doubt that it could have pulled the arms off an ape, and now it glared at them with malevolent intent.

Jacob and Kenny both opened fire without hesitation. The creature screamed with rage as the bullets tore into its massive body, knocking it to the ground, but not killing or seriously injuring it. Jacob and Kenny watched speechless as it crawled in to the tree line, struggled to its feet and limped away. Jacob ran back to the porch and grabbed the phone book, and called the local game warden.

Nearly two hours later Gene Traughber the local Warden showed up to take their statements, and told them that he had been called out to answer numerous such reports in the area, but he wasn’t sure what to make of all these reports. “Guys”, he said, “I don’t know what to tell you, there is no animal in this area, or any area for that matter that fits your description”. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I just don’t know what it is.”

Jacob whose face was reddened with anger said, “Come here! Here is the blood from where we shot it, and here are the footprints!” A look of complete confusion washed over Gene’s face and he asked if they would care to go with him as he tried to track it. Jacob and Kenny agreed, but they said they weren’t going without a gun. Gene stated that he planned to take his gun as well.

All three men loaded their guns, and set out following the deeply impressed tracks and droplets of blood, that had fallen on the withered leaves. They followed the trail for about a mile until arriving at a creek that was located deep in Jacob’s woods where the tracks that they were following were joined by others just like them. Some were smaller, but at least one set was larger. Deciding that the safest course of action would be to return home, they all went back to Jacob’s. None of them relished the idea of staying out in the woods longer since there was now apparently more than one creature, and the cloudy overcast day made the forest seem even darker than it would normally be this time of day.

Back at Jacob’s, Gene informed them that there was nothing left that he could do but file it under an unknown animal sighting, which made both Kenny and Jacob anything but happy. Jacob and Kenny spent the next couple of days trying to warn their neighbors to use caution when they were out in the forest.

Most of their friends just laughed at them and said they had probably seen a bear, or something. No one believed them except William, who had seen it himself the same day they had. He had even taken a shot at it, but missed. Jacob, William, and Kenny knew what they had seen, and they knew it was still out there, and they didn’t care who believed them, and who didn’t.

Over the next few weeks more and more neighbors began to take the story a little more seriously, as family pets began to disappear, and others were found brutally mangled. Other farms in the area began to find their cows and other livestock torn open with their throats ripped out. Just a week after shooting the creature in his yard, Jacobs’ own Rottweiler was found dead with its throat torn out, hanging across a limb in a tree in his front yard. It almost seemed like a revenge killing.

A few days later, one of William’s new foals died the same way. The foal’s mother had to be put to sleep, because she had gone into shock over whatever she had witnessed there in the barn when her foal was killed.

Some people in the area still don’t believe. They think the whole story was made up. But, Jacob and Kenny know that there is still something out there in the forest. They still occasionally find tracks, or a slaughtered cow, or goat. They still hear the bloodcurdling screams off in the woods at night. They know that there is still something out there watching and waiting biding its time. Something cold, and cunning, and cruel, something not human with a taste for blood and revenge.

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Scary Story Time | Skinwalker by Max Minton

Original Story

Music by Dr. Creepen

My father told me a story once. I’ll never forget it, for a few reasons. I think it’s the first story he ever told me, as a child. It’s also the story of how my grandfather died. But honestly, that isn’t the reason.

You hear stories, on TV, or sometimes you over hear something in a public place. People talk about ghosts and aliens, and you think to yourself, “That isn’t real. They’re making it up, or they’re mistaken, or they’re crazy,” or something like that. You just can’t believe it.

Until something happens. Something that brings it all together, connects the dots in a way you didn’t think of before. Maybe it happens to you, maybe you hear the same story again and again, happening to different people. It doesn’t take long for the world to become a lot bigger than you thought it was.

As I said, this is a story my father told me, but I never believed it, even though he swore up and down it was true. It wasn’t until I started clicking around the internet I started to believe. I started to hear other stories just like the one my father told me. It didn’t take me long to believe in The Rake.

That’s not what my father called it, of course. He’s never used the internet in his life, he wouldn’t know what the consensus has taken to naming it. When he chose to call it something other than “it” or “that thing”. He called it “Skinwalker” after an old Navajo tale his grandfather told him.

But I’ll tell you the story, the way he told it to me.

“We were out hunting one night,” he’d tell me. “Coyotes. We’d kill ’em for fifty bucks a skin.” They lived on a dairy farm, in Ohio. “They’d kill calves sometimes. We’d do it every night, because we needed the money. Sometimes, while we were out, we’d come on a deer, and kill it. Our landlord didn’t mind, and it could a feed our family for a few nights and save us some money.

“Anyway, we were done making our rounds and heading home, walking, ’cause we didn’t have a car or some four-wheeler back then. We’d cut through the woods. That’s when we came up on it.

“Blood, everywhere. Splattered on the trees, in the grass, in the creek, everywhere. At first, we figured it was a pack of coyotes. We’d seen it sometimes, they can’t scavenge and start hunting deer or cattle. The worst was when they bred with feral dogs. But this wasn’t like that.

“See, when a pack of dogs, or wolves, or coyotes attack something, they do it right. They’ll pick off one that’s weak, or sick, or old, or just small. They’ll hunt it, draw it into a corner, some place it can’t get out off, and they’ll run it right to the biggest one, the alpha. And that deer will never see that alpha. It might hear it, but it won’t see it. It’ll just notice that its throat is gone, and then it’ll drop dead. It’s quick, it’s clean. That wasn’t what happened here.

“Something had run up on a den of deer. Coyotes won’t attack a den, wolves neither, because they’d get too much of a fight. There were three, I think, three bodies. Just torn apart. You’d see a head here, a leg here, a torso there. Predators don’t do that. They don’t leave behind scraps. What had done this hadn’t done it for food. It had done it for fun.

“But we didn’t know that. We saw a bunch of carcasses and we think it’s something we gotta take care of. I remember my dad telling me to go home; he thought it was a pack of feral dogs.”

“But I wasn’t leaving him, and I damn sure wasn’t walking through two miles of woods alone, with nothing but a twenty two and a pocket knife.” He was only thirteen at the time, so a .22 rifle was about the only gun he could reliably use. “Dad had the shotgun, and I wasn’t going anywhere without it.

“It took me a while, to convince him, but finally we began tracking whatever did that. It wasn’t hard, either, we just followed the blood. Either that thing bled a deer before it got away, or it dragged one for a mile. I don’t know. I know that I’d never seen my dad scared before that night.

“We started hearing noises. I’ve been in a lot of woods, in my life, I’ve been all over the world, and ain’t never heard noises like I heard that night. I heard things screaming.

“Heard deer, and fox, and rabbits and raccoons and birds, just scared. Keep in mind, this is maybe twelve, or one o’ clock. ‘Cept the fox, and some birds, nothing was supposed to even be awake. But they weren’t just awake They were moving. I saw flocks of birds that night fly straight into trees just trying to get out of there. We came up on a pack of coyotes, nearly shot a couple thinking it was what we were looking for us, but then we saw they were running towards us. They ran right passed us, didn’t even notice.

“Then some deer did the same. Then some rabbits, squirrels, foxes, even a couple wild hogs. These things were supposed to be eating each other and the only thing they cared about was getting out of there.

“We should have put it together. That maybe whatever we were tracking, it wasn’t something we were supposed to see, and it wasn’t something we could kill. I don’t know why we didn’t just go home. I guess we were curious. I think that was my dad’s nature, to go toward trouble, to fight. And knowing what I knew about what my father did during the war, my nature was to stay close to him.

“We finally get into an open valley. It was normally a soy field, but it wasn’t in season, so it was just flat dirt. We saw the tracks, then. A lot of the animals fleeing the forest had paved over the land. But where that deer blood was, nothing had taken a single step. Like they were leaving it for us to find.

“The tracks were shallow. Whatever it was couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred pounds, but that didn’t mean much. A bobcat weighing forty pounds wet nearly tore out my damn throat, once. All that means is that it’s quick and hard to hit.

“So we follow the tracks, and it doesn’t take us long to find where it is. There’s this old school house that sits on the top of a hill. Half of it had been ripped out by a tornado, but nobody lived there, not for a long time. We caught homeless people in there, sometimes, or druggies looking for a safe place to shoot up. We figured maybe that was it. Maybe it was some sick kid riding a high. But we didn’t think that for long.

“We get within fifty yards, and we hear this noise. A screeching kinda sound. It was sort of made up of two different sounds. One was a high pitched screech, another was a low pitched growl. It was making both, at the same time.

“We get within twenty yards, and we hear this sound. I can remember thinking that it sounded like paper being torn apart, while someone was swinging water in a bucket, back and forth.

“Dad looks at me, kneels down, and whispers. ‘I gotta stay behind him, ’cause we’re about to corner him. Any animal will fight when it’s cornered, ‘specially when it’s a predator. But we can tell by the tracks that it’s just one’. He tells me it’s probably a single, feral dog, probably rabid.

“The plan is to sneak up on it while it’s eating, shoot it, and then keep shooting it ’till it don’t move anymore, then slit its throat. If it gets to dad, it’s my job to shoot it or stab it to get it off him. So he walks up, and I’m right behind him, just a tad to his side, so I can see what it is. I wish to this day I hadn’t.

“It was leaning over a carcass, tears off its flesh, and throws what it doesn’t nibble at aside. There’s blood all over the brick, glistening in the moonlight. It’s pale white, human looking; but not quite human. It had arms and legs like a human, but it sat like a monkey, hunched over. Its hands weren’t normal; it had long fingers with claws at the end.

“So we see that, and my dad hesitates. He wasn’t about to fire on a person. So he clears his throat, to try get it to turn around.

“I swear to god, all the noise just ceased. I ain’t ever heard true silence before that, and not after it. But for two seconds, nothing, nothing, made any noise. Which made it all the louder when it turned around, made this shrill cry, and jumped on dad.

“He got a shot off. I think he missed. If he hit the thing, it didn’t mind. But it was on him, tears parts of him off. I start shooting it with the twenty two, point blank, but it barely bled the thing. I got off five rounds, and then I started hitting it with the gun butt. But it wasn’t budging.

“It didn’t even register that I was there.

“It clawed at my dad, taking off bits of his flesh. It started on his torso, ripping off the skin, his tit, then it moved up. It tore off his throat, it tore off his nose, his eyes. It scalped him. Then it started digging in and ripped off the bottom half of his jaw, the little bones and that tube in your neck, then his ribs.

“I don’t exactly remember what happened, but somehow, my dads knife ends up in this things shoulder, and my dad ends up on my back. I’m running, and by god I’m running faster than I’d ever run before or after. And it’s following me. I end up back in the woods, opposite the ones we been in. I’m headin’ towards my landlord’s house, ’cause it’s half a mile away.

“I can hear this thing, screeching and moaning. I hear the tree branches crack and get thrown around. It sounds like someone’s taking an axe to every single tree I pass, it’s cracking so loud and often, but I just ain’t looking back.

“Finally, I trip into gravel. I look up and there’s my landlord and bunch of his buddies, drinking around a campfire. I scream and I cry, and they come over. I’m telling them to call an ambulance, and he looks at me, and I’ll never forget what he said.

“‘What is that on your back?’ he asked me. Just as he said it, he saw. One of those godawful flannel shirts my dad wore everywhere. It was what was left of my dad. Most of his head, his torso, but nothing after the waist.

“Suddenly we hear it; screeching. He grabs me, my dad gets thrown on the ground. I’m fighting him, crying, cause I think we can still save him, somehow, but my dad had been gone ‘fore I ever picked him up. He has to pick me up and throw me inside before I come with him.

“He and his buddies, we’re all inside, and their locking doors, and getting guns. The landlord’s asking me ‘What happened? What happened?’ but I just don’t know what to tell him. He pieced enough of it all together to understand that there was something dangerous there. All the lights in the house are on, and someone calls the cops. They’ll be there, but in fifteen minutes.

“We look outside, and see it walk in front of the fire they’d made. Don’t know what it is, one of ’em says it looks like an Ape. Suddenly, something goes through the window. We shoot at it, but ain’t the thing. It’s my landlord’s dog. Just the body, though. Not his head or legs.

“We start pushing things in front of doors and windows, when we hear something the garage. I remember one of his friends sayin’ that the doors were open. We hear metal and glass just get ripped apart. We put a couch and a TV in front of the door to the garage.

“It banged around some more, but then it got quiet. Not silent, like it was before. We could hear it move around some, and the guys were talking, making sure the guns were ready. Someone hands me a pistol. No sooner did I cock the hammer back did we hear something shatter upstairs. Then we heard it screech again. ‘cept now it was louder, and it didn’t echo and fade out. Because it was inside.

“We all rushed to the one door leading upstairs, and we got to it just as that thing did. It opened it just a bit, and four or five men just slammed into it. It got its hand through. Someone with a shotgun took care of that. Put the barrel right up to its wrist and pulled the trigger. Cut its hand off, clean.

“That only pissed it off, though. It started pushing on that door, clawing. We were on one side, pushing as best we could, and it was on the other, doing the same. That wood just wasn’t going to hold, so someone tells us to keep our heads down. Suddenly the top half of the door is just gone, my ears are ringing, and there are splinters everywhere. Two or three of them just unloaded on the top of that door.

“I don’t really know where it went after that. The police got there. I was still glued to that door, what was left of it. The sun was up before they got me off it. They put me in a hospital for a while. A lot of people talked to me, but I didn’t talk back, not for a long, long time.

“When I got back home, I got a job from the landlord, working on the farm. We didn’t talk much, not about the thing. But, I signed up for the army when I was nineteen, and he sat me down to drink some scotch as a send off. I asked him, right away, what the police told him. The story they went with was a wild animal, probably a wolf, or maybe a bear that had migrated north. I asked him how they could say that when they had the hand. He looks at me, stunned.

“He tells me that hand never made it back to the station. The cop who had it in his car wrecked, drove into a tree, died on impact. The hand was never found, probably taken away by an animal. The cops, when they would acknowledge the hand existed at all, said it was simply the paw of a bear that looked like a human hand.

“I never talked to the landlord again. He went missing when I was in basic. The cops never found him. They said he owed some people some money and just ran away, but I don’t think it’s that simple. I never went back to those woods. I wouldn’t even if I had the whole goddamn US Army at my back.”

But that was a lie. When my mother died, I don’t think my father felt he had anything left, and that he might as well settle old scores. He went to those woods. He never came back. The FBI was called, they did a show for everyone involved, but I knew they weren’t really looking. I had to get one drunk and slip him a few fifties before he finally told me that they get a few calls about those woods every year, about someone up and vanishing. But that was all he wanted to tell me. Before he got up and left with the rest of his team, he wrote “The Rake” onto a napkin. I didn’t know what it meant until I searched for it on the internet. Honestly, I would have rather not known.

Scary Story Time | A Dog Named Grim

Original Story

Music by Dr. Creepen

My parents had very demanding jobs. My mother and father ran a law firm, and we had to travel a lot. I had to get use to being pretty much alone. I could never get use to having friends. I knew I would only end up moving anyway. I was also an only child. Therefore, life was pretty much a sad thing for me. However, I will never forget a strange encounter I had when my parents and I moved into a trailer on the countryside of Mississippi. It was pretty much desolate other than a few other houses and trailers. The trailer was the best my parents could find.

We moved in the trailer next to an old man. He looked as though he was in his late 80s. He also seemed to live alone. I never saw anyone but him outside. I don’t think he had a wife, kids, or even grandchildren. However, he did have a dog. It was quite a strange dog though. He appeared to be a black German Shepard. He had one of the most unique, beautiful black coat of fur I had ever seen on any animal. His fur could be compared to that of the night sky. He was also quite large. He definitely had some Great Dane in his bloodline. When you see this dog’s black coat and large size, he looks absolutely intimidating. It was simply astounding. I’d honestly never seen a dog quite like this.

I went over to introduce myself to the neighbor. Though he looked grumpy, the man was very nice. He introduced himself as Mr. Frank Gosold, but he told me I could call him Frank. I then asked what was the name of his dog. His name was Grim. Grim simply glanced at me, but paid me no attention.

As time passed, Frank and I had become friends. He said it was nice to finally have some company. I would regularly help Frank with his chores around the house. Afterwards, he would give me a little pay for my help. With my father always working, Frank pretty much became my father figure. It made me feel special.

Something was quite strange every time I visited Frank. Grim would be gone most of the time. Frank explained that Grim loved to explore the woods, but my gut told me that wasn’t the case. Occasionally, I would come across Grim. His behavior was quite…weird. Sometimes, he would just sit completely still staring out into the woods. He looked utterly focused.

I would try to play with Grim, but he was never playful. Whenever I tried to get him to play, he would just look at me with a blank stare and continue to stare out into the woods. His tail wouldn’t even wag in the slightest. He just didn’t seem like a happy dog. That was until about a month into staying in the trailer. Apparently, a man died late in the night. Police said he was drunk and drove his car into a tree. That day, I saw Grim’s tail wag. He actually looked happy. I ran over to see if he would happily greet me. After he noticed me, his tail stopped wagging and he gave me a low growl. It was like…I was disturbing his happiness.

After that, I was determined to find out what was Grim’s deal. The weirdest thing about Grim was his behavior. Every time someone in the neighborhood died, he would either be gone or be happy. What was this dog’s problem? It was like he knew when people died. This began to bother me. It actually began to disturb me. I began to have nightmares about Grim. I had dreams of him at the drunk man’s accident. There was an old lady who lived about three miles away from us. She’d suffered from a heart attack in sleep. I had a nightmare that Grim had something to do with it. One of my final nightmares was of Grim popping out of nowhere biting my throat out.

Time passed and my parents and I were getting ready to move again. I told myself I would never try to make friends, but I’d made such good friends with Frank. I just couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

Before I continue, I want to say that I was one of the only survivors. Remember that. You’ll know what I mean at the end.

Anyway, I said my goodbyes to Frank. He was sad that I was leaving. I was pretty torn up about it as well. However, I couldn’t leave without knowing Grim’s issue. I asked Frank where he got Grim.

His face went pale for a moment. After a brief moment of hesitation, he answered.

“I didn’t find him. He found me. My wife died a few years ago. After that, he just…showed up.”

I found that quite weird. Grim just appeared after Frank’s wife died. He then asked him does he know about Grim’s weird behavior. His answer will forever live in my mind.

“I once thought Grim was a normal dog. I thought he was just some stray that found his way to my door. Then, I realized that wasn’t quite the case. You see, my boy, Grim isn’t just a normal dog. As a matter of fact, he isn’t a dog at all.”

I could not think of anything to say. I was completely baffled. I managed to ask one final question.

“Then…what is he?”

Frank looked at me with a face of caution.

“I think…I t-think he’s Death. I use to be curious where Grim would run off too just like you. I once followed him and discovered he was arriving at the scenes of upcoming death. He would never be happy until someone died or was about to die. I even believe he can be at several places at once. It’s best you leave now. We don’t want to upset him. Please.”

With that being said, I left Frank’s house and never saw him again. My parents had finished packing up. We were on our way to the airport. I will never forget what I saw as we drove away. I looked out the back car window and saw Grim. He was staring directly at me, but this time, he was wagging his tail. He was happy to see me leave.

At the airport, we began to board our plane. Remember when I said I was one of the only survivors? As I boarded the plane, I could’ve sworn I spotted Grim at the airport for a second, but when I took a second look, there was nothing there. I’m sure you can imagine what happened to that plane. I lost both my parents in that crash.

I finally realized what Grim was. This may seemed far-fetched, but maybe Grim is Death. That’s why Grim is named Grim. He is the Grim Reaper.

I have never been a spiritual person. I do believe in death though. Eventually, its coming for all of us. However, I can confidently say I cheated Death…and Death is a dog. Death is…a dog named Grim.

Scary Christmas Stories | Santa’s Other Workshop by Hillahawke1

Not all of Santa’s Elves are happy little creatures. Sometimes there are elves who are vile and mean. What happens with these little elves? Where do they go when they are really, really bad?

“Erhgra E’tah sat in the poorly lit corner of a tattered workbench. His focus was entirely devoted to the old and worn piece of brass in his hands. The clangs of his hammer hitting metal rang out and echoed through the dark halls and passageways. He pounded the brass sheet relentlessly until the metal slowly began to surrender its shape and bend to Erhgra’s design. Suddenly the hammer flew out of the mad elf’s grasp. He examined his limp hand, trying to will it back into his control. Fury filled his heart as he watched the necrotic flesh sloughed off his bony hand. He didn’t have much time.”

Listen to all of these scary Christmas stories right here!

Original Story
Music by Myuu

Merry Scary Christmas | The Ringer | A Creepypasta by OMGitsGhastly

Original Story

Music by Myuu

There is quite a large chance of meeting some weirdos while walking through the streets of any even slightly significant city in the U.S. at night. This is especially true around or on pretty much every holiday on the calendar. Why I was out for a nighttime stroll to admire Christmas lights at 11:30 P.M. on Christmas Eve, God only knows. However the events following that night were some of the oddest I had ever experienced.

As I have already stated, I was casually strolling my way down a street in my hometown of Northfield, Ohio. Considering the location and season, it was deathly cold, a near 10 below freezing. I was in my thick winter coat and near knee-high snow boots, but I’m the type of person who has a mild resistance to cold, so I didn’t pay much mind to the freezing weather. I actually partially enjoyed it.

Aimlessly ambling around the streets of the town is actually quite whimsical, observing the amount of hard work and effort the people must have put into their decorations. The houses are truly an amazing sight, and they set quite the mood. In truth, Christmas is my favorite time of the year.

As I was on my way back to my home, I stopped abruptly to more closely perambulate an astonishing decoration setup. Apparently, whilst I was admiring the incredible work, a lone stranger had seemingly been watching me from afar. I didn’t notice the man’s presence until after I had started making my way back to my home. As a heavy gust of wind rushed in my direction, I turned around to look away from the wind so it didn’t sting my face as much as it would have. Then, I noticed him. Just standing there, still as a statue. He was about 30, maybe 40 yards away. From what I could tell, he didn’t have a coat on, just maybe a sweatshirt, and he appeared to be carrying something. His presence unnerved me slightly. What was a man without a coat on doing outside in 10° below zero, just gazing at passerby? I was just about to turn around and start traversing my way home when the stranger started to head in my direction. He appeared to have a staggering limp and it seemed that he could barely hold himself up. At least, whatever he had on him. From where I was, it looked like he was skin and bones.

As he came closer and closer, I felt the need to run. But for some reason, I just couldn’t. It’s impossible to explain why I felt compelled to stay, I just did. I just simply can’t give a reason for standing there like I did.

The stranger speedily approached me, mumbling something. The only thing I could make out was something about a burden being released and a curse, something you’d hear out of a gypsy’s mouth. He shoved the box into my arms and ran off, thanking me for whatever reason.

The box was your typical, generic, cliché Christmas present box. A small perfect cube with a lid slightly bigger than it on the top. The box itself was green, with that perfect red ribbon making a pattern on it. In simpler terms, it was something like you’d see on a movie or TV show.

The odd man had already sprinted out of sight before I could utter a thank you. I suppose he really wanted to get rid of it. But why? I saw nothing wrong with the gift. It looked perfectly normal. The contents may have been a bit suspicious (seeing as it was apparent that he and I hadn’t opened it yet). I could only assume that someone had given this to him, unopened, and he thought it was a bomb or something and freaked out. But what he was rambling on about as he handed me the gift was odd, however. I couldn’t find a logical way to piece the whole event together.

All I know is that afterwards, I speed-walked my way back to my house, considering it was quite late into the night anyway. I entered into the warmth of my home, removed my heavy winter gear, and plopped down onto my couch, box in hand. I stared at the box for at least five excruciatingly long minutes, contemplating whether or not I could gain enough courage to open the box and review its contents. What if it were a bomb or a murder weapon?

After about ten minutes of deep contemplation, I very, very slowly opened up the box to reveal…a bell. A simple, nearly insignificant bell. The thing couldn’t have been more than three inches in height. I lightly grasped it and ever so gently lifted it out of the box. It appeared to be an antique, having some wear and tear but still maintaining to hold some of its original luster. I’m not a geologist or anything, but by basic feel, I could tell that the bell was made of copper. There was a tiny inscription on the inside of the bell. It was one simple word.


The bell that the man on the street had given to me. I was made curious by the word. What could it possibly mean? Was I cursed? I shrugged it off, trudged through the hallway to my bedroom, and set the bell onto my nightstand. After about half an hour of watching TV, I shut it off and went to sleep. My dream that night was…well, there are very few proper words to describe it. Maybe sinister might be appropriate, but that probably doesn’t cover it well.

I was in my home. It seemed to be nighttime outside, and there were no lights on in my house. In other words, it was near pitch black. In the low visibility, I could barely see my hands in front of me. I’m not sure, but I think I was in my living room, sitting on the couch. It was cold, as if someone had either turned the A/C too high or left a window or door ajar. There I sat in the tense darkness, for what seemed like hours until I heard a muffled sound come from my bedroom. It was nearly inaudible, but still noticeable. It was the ringing of the bell. Soft, but there. I began to stand up and walk towards the door out of curiosity. As I took each silent step closer to the door, the sound grew and grew with closeness. My bedroom door was closed, so I had to open it via the doorknob. The ringing persisted as I grappled the doorknob and twisted it open very slowly.

As soon as I opened the door, I was shocked by what I saw…or more accurately, could see.

I couldn’t see much, considering the extreme darkness. However, I knew that something was there, in my room. I could only see a dark silhouette of a slender figure. The thing had to be at least 8 feet tall. It had the bell in its hands and was ringing it vigorously, humming a tune that I didn’t recognize. It appeared to have not noticed me as I nervously nudged the door ajar. As I crept softly into the room, the figure proceeded to ring the bell, seeming to get more and more aggressive and then quieting down after a certain period of time. This repeated the whole time I was in the room.

Not knowing what to do next, I was suddenly compelled to do something I normally wouldn’t have done. I gently raised my arm and touched its back. The only problem? I couldn’t. It was as if it were an apparition. A phantom of sorts. Endlessly sitting there, ringing the bell. My arm was sticking through its back, and protruding through the front of its body.

I jerked my arm out from inside of its transparent body. At that moment, it swiftly swiveled around to face me and proceeded to rip my guts out with long, knife-like fingers while letting out the most horrific and blood-curdling scream imaginable. It sounded like a mixture of a dying cat and metal grinding upon metal. The sound was ear-piercing, but not as bad as the pain. It felt as if I were in the dream, that the dream was a reality and I was there, getting my guts ripped out by this demented thing. He tossed my dismembered body across the room and just before I woke up, I saw one minute sparkle being held by the creature. It was the bell, nice and shiny. It appeared to be brand new.

I awoke and bolted into an awkward upright position. I was drenched in a cold sweat, and not to help it at all, the room seemed to be freezing. Sleep did not call me at all that night after the dream.

By the time the sun rose the next morning, I was still greatly unnerved by the nightmare. Why would the bell be in the dream? Am I just unnerving myself? I asked myself as I prepared breakfast that morning. The realization finally dawning upon me, I sprinted back to my bedroom to see where the bell was, and if it had been moved in the night. Surely enough, it had. It was on the floor, where I believe the creature was standing as the dream ended. It still had its dull brown copper tone, though. As I set it back on the nightstand, I swear I could slightly pick up a near-inaudible ringing of the bell, even though it wasn’t moving. I just passed it off as me being nervous over a nightmare and continued my day. The ringing persisted, and never stopped until I got into bed later that night.

When restless sleep did find me, the only dream that I can remember having was a flashback of the previous night’s events: the man giving me the box, opening the box to reveal the bell, having the nightmare, and so on and so forth. However, at one point in the dream, I got a third-person view of myself as I was sleeping, apparently sometime before the nightmare started. The view I got could be compared to a paranormal ghost hunter’s surveillance camera, but more clear. It was as if I was watching myself sleep from an angle.

I noticed something very frightening, however. In the darkness, I could just barely make out the same figure that was in my dream. It was just standing there, ringing the bell and humming the tune it was humming that night. I could barely make out its face. From what I could see, its mouth was curved into a grin of malice, with pointed and bloody teeth lining the gruesome sight. That’s really about all I could see of its face, besides a faint outline.

I awoke, yet again in a freezing sweat. Now, I knew that this wasn’t just some simple coincidence. No, this was something much more sinister.

The next day, the ringing of the bell grew a little more aggressive. I could hear it clearly this time, so I didn’t have to strain my ears to hear it. That day, I suppose I could say that it made itself known. I could have sworn that I saw the figure in reality at least five times whenever I looked into a dark room. When I did, I told myself I was going crazy and brushed it off.

That night was the worst night of my entire life.

The dream started as the first one ended. I was a dismembered corpse lying on the floor, still looking through my lifeless eyes. I had apparently lost the ability to move, as if I were a live soul trapped in a dead body. Everything was brighter and I could see more clearly. However, the air was colder and there was snow blowing through my house. The ringing, that terrible ringing, was as aggressive as ever, and I thought the thing would break if the figure rung it any more vigorously. There were words written on the walls in my blood. They covered the entire surface area of the walls.

Eventually, after lying there for around ten minutes, I regained the ability to move. My body was piecing itself back together, kind of like how a rewind on a video would look.

I was standing and able to move freely again. I took a few steps forward to investigate the writing on the walls. There was only one word on the walls, written over and over and over again.


This is when I lost it. I crumpled to the floor as the ringing of the bell grew to be deafening. I could hear vocals behind the ringing as well. They said that accursed phrase, over and over, louder and louder, in a deep, demonic voice,

“Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring.”

I screamed as loud as I could, until I couldn’t utter a sound with my voice. I began to inflict self-harm, trying to injure myself in any which way I possibly could, trying to will myself awake, so I could get away from this nightmare of bells, and the ringing.

I awoke. My neighbor called the police, and after they took me to the station, they interrogated me, asked me questions, tried to provoke a response in any way. They did not succeed.

I was moved from my home to a new place of living and the bell discarded.

I hated to move away from my old house, but I like this new place. The people are nice, and the whole community is really great. I love the walls here; they are so very, very white. Kind of reminds me of the snow.

Ring, ring.

My Heart is Only for You

 My heart beats only for you! Give this heart pendant to a loved one who is into the macabre and she will wear it close to hear heart. This stainless steel heart necklace says it is for a man, but honestly I think anyone who is a little goth and into horror will love it! Your honey might scream with excitement when opened!

I’m actually thinking up a really great story for this necklace right now. After I create today’s episode, I might start working on it.

Scary Christmas Stories | The Christmas Krampus

Have you been a naughty boy or girl? Be careful, because you know the story about Christmas coal! What? You think it isn’t true because you don’t know anyone who has ever had coal in their stocking before? Of course it is true! There is a reason why they never tell you about the coal and it isn’t a pleasant one.

The Christmas Krampus

Every year, around the Christmas Holiday, magical things always seem to happen. Some things are marvelous and joyful, like visits from Santa or a snowman coming alive. Many people say they can feel the Christmas magic in the air or around them.

Some things aren’t so joyful… Around Christmas every year, kidnappings, murder, and suicide rates go up drastically as well. Even when horrid things like this happen, people often feel, yet rarely do they admit, that they still feel a kind of Holiday magic behind it, although be it a dark magic.

One example comes from a Christmas demon known as the Krampus. The Krampus is well known in countries like Germany and Switzerland for taking naughty children in the dead of Christmas Eve night. Here is one such account:

December 6th, 2013
My name is Eli Rockford. I am currently seven years old as I write this. I confide in this journal something I can’t tell my family because they would never believe me.

I am often told that I am very smart for my age, because I say and do things that most kids my age don’t, but if I tell a strange story, no matter how hard I get them to believe me, my parents and siblings say it’s just my imagination. Today I looked out my window into the street by our house and saw a man who looked like a shadow with horns. His eyes glowed orange and seeing him scared me a lot. He was ringing a bunch of bells for something but I just tried to ignore him and sleep.

Then I heard a knock on the door. I went down to see who it was for mommy and daddy but when I got to the door, someone stuck a card through our mail slot and ran off really quickly. The card had a picture of a monster who had bull legs, a tail, and horns on a scary looking goat head that looked half-human. I was so scared that it was the thing in the street, but I don’t know what to do. I think I know what it is, but I hope I’m wrong,

I showed the card to my dad and he said it was Krampus. The bottom of the card said “Gröss von Krampus” Daddy says every year, Krampus punishes bad boys and girls on Christmas, but Santa gives good boys and girls toys. So now I’m not so scared. I always get toys on Christmas, so I must be a good kid. I still didn’t tell him about the thing on the street.

December 24th, 2013
My parents will be gone for most of tonight and Christmas morning tomorrow for some stupid work thing they both have. We usually have a Christmas at 6:00, but we have to wait for Mommy and Daddy to get home first.

Mom told Brad, my oldest brother, that we would have a babysitter because she didn’t trust him to watch all five of us by himself. Mom often let Brad watch us, but we had broke a lot of things the last couple times we were left alone, so mommy said she would get Rebecca to watch us.

Rebecca came to the house at 5, she was very pretty and Brad couldn’t stop staring at her. Mommy and Daddy left a couple minutes after Rebecca got here. This was the the first time Rebecca had watched six kids at the same time before, and I don’t think she knew what she was getting herself into. My youngest sister, Molly, who’s three, threw a tantrum after our parents left. Levi and Garret, my younger twin brothers who are both five, started fighting. Brad talked with Rebecca most of the night and Rachel spent most the night in her room. Mom and Dad said that we would still get Christmas gifts tomorrow, but we had to wait to open them until they got home. We made hot cocoa, but the cocoa maker is broke so the hot chocolate burned our mouths, and we all got candy canes too!

Rebecca started to put us to bed at 8 and finally succeeded at 9:30. Even though she was clearly exhausted and frustrated with us, she told us she had fun and that she wouldn’t have spent Christmas Eve any other way…

I awoke in the middle of the night at about 11 to see a crimson moon casting a dim, red glow on the winter snow. I looked out my bedroom window and saw a red object coming towards our house, fast. It was hard to make out, but it looked like a red sleigh being pulled by reindeer. I instantly recognized this as Santa’s sleigh and ran to hide on the stairs and waited for him to come down the chimney anxiously.

Out of the window to the right of our fireplace I saw the sleigh fly overhead and heard many hooves trotting on the roof. I made sure to remain perfectly still and silent as a mouse. I waited for what felt like an eternity while soft foot steps echoed on the roof above me, getting closer to the chimney. I heard scuffling as ash and dust started falling from the fireplace. Soon, two black boots landed, then the rest of jolly old St. Nick came through the fireplace with a bag of toys on his back. Without speaking a word, he went straight to our tree, he took gifts from his bag and scattered them under our lit-up, plastic evergreen then started on the milk and cookies we left for him. I felt that I had held my breath the entire time I was hiding on the stares.

I couldn’t believe I was spying on the real Santa Claus in my own home! Eventually, he made his way over to our stockings and started putting various knick-knacks and candies in our stockings starting with Molly. When he got to Levi, he took out a small, black rock and eyed it sadly before placing it in Levi’s stocking. It took me a second to realize that he gave Levi coal. I tried to stifle a laugh to the best of my abilities but a small squeak escaped my lips anyways. Santa turned around and scanned the room. I remained as still as ever. He turned back to the stockings, this time keeping his back to me, and put a piece of coal in Garrett’s stocking too. He put a candy cane in Brad’s stocking, along with a pocket knife. Rachel got a new phone and some kit-kats. Finally he moved to my stocking, which is always furthest to the right, even though I’m the middle child. He began rummaging through his sack as I leaned forward excitedly to see what presents I was getting.

Santa pulled out a large jet black piece of coal and stuffed it into my stocking. I felt a wave of anger, sadness, and regret all at once. I almost stood up right then to tell off the jolly old elf, but when he turned around I saw tears in his eyes. He looked as if he was filled with similar emotions as I was, like he didn’t like to have to give bad kids coal. It was for this reason, that I remained quiet as Santa climbed back up my chimney, got into his sleigh, and flew away. I watched out my downstairs window as the sleigh flew from the roof and into the black abyss of Christmas night.

I sat there, still in place for a very long time, pondering how I could be a better child next year when I spotted something out of the window again. It looked like the same figure I’d seen before, but this time, the sleigh looked as if it was black. I wrote this off as it was really dark outside, except for the moon’s red glow. I wondered why Santa would come back. Maybe he forgot something. Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe, I wasn’t naughty and he was on his way back right now to fix his mistake! My mind was racing from one thought to another as I began to hype myself up for all my possible Christmas presents. I’d stopped watching the window and had begun to daydream about the next morning, until hooves on the roof interrupted my thoughts. I heard loud, heavy clacking this time as he got closer to the chimney.

Ash began to fall down the chimney, creating an ashy cloud around the fireplace as what I assumed to be Santa began coming down and landed with a loud clash. My final thought before seeing what came next was “How has no one noticed all of this?” Through the cloud of thick, black ash protruded two large horns with stripes of red and white like those of a candy cane’s. As the dust settled, the rest of the figure was revealed.

His skin was a pale, icy looking blue. His beard was like Santa’s, except it was black and came to a point. His nose was long, and his face looked grizzled, but more human then I thought. His horns looked like they’d touch the ceiling if he jumped. His body looked human in shape, but animal in appearance. His legs were twisted and ended in hooves, like that of a cow/bull. He had a long tail. His torso was contorted and everything but his face and palms was covered in fur. He had broken chains around his wrists and what looked like a heavy, red Christmas ornament attached to his tail by another chain. His ears were pointed, and so were his yellow teeth. Despite his horrid, outlandish appearance, the most noticeable things about the creature were it’s bells that it wore, and the basket on it’s back that had the limp arm of a child hanging from it. The stories were true, and so is Krampus.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had seen sleighs go by, magic reindeer fly overhead, and had even seen Santa Claus himself, but none of that could have prepared me for the beast that is Krampus.

He moved around the room with such speed that I was caught off guard. This thing looked about 8 feet tall without it’s horns, and with them he towered over everything in our large home. He made his way to the fireplace and took the coal from Levi’s stocking. He rolled it around in his long, bony fingers for a moment, then took the coal from Garrett’s stocking, then finally mine. He studied the coal for a moment. A wide smile full of pointy, yellow teeth beamed across his face. “Naughty little children.” I heard it say in a cold, raspy voice. A shiver ran up my spine as he, it, spoke.

I was paralyzed in both fear and aw at the creature that roamed my living room beneath me. I thought he was moving towards the tree, but it walked passed it and started going down the hallway into… Into Levi and Garrett’s room. I remembered the things my father used to say about it, that he whips bad kids, takes them away, sometimes he eats them, sometimes he shakes them and scares them into being good. All these horrid thoughts and more danced through my head as the monster creeped into the twins’ room.

I tried to scream with all my might but no sound would escape my mouth. As I finally was able to choke out “Levi! Garrett!” Screams had already filled their room. Levi came running out of his room screaming his head off as Garrett followed suit. The creature’s long, twisted arm reached out from the room and grabbed Garrett’s leg, pulling him back into the room. I stood up from my spot on the stairs and motioned for Levi to come to me.

Garrett’s screams fell silent. The Krampus emerged from the room alone, his nose seemed shorter now, his face even more deformed now. I gripped Levi’s hand tightly and we ran for Brad’s room. I wailed on his door again and again, but he wouldn’t come out. I would have tried harder to get his attention, but I could hear it coming up the stairs as each hoof hit each step. I took Levi to the the laundry room and told him to hide in the laundry shoot. Once he was inside I began lowering the laundry hamper so he could get downstairs without confronting the monster. Before he was lowered out of sight, I told Levi to go start the hot cocoa maker, because I had a plan. He nodded, and once he got to the bottom, I felt the hamper get lighter as he climbed out. I heard the hooved foot steps getting louder and closer to the laundry room. I began pulling the laundry hamper up and climbed in just as the door was violently flung open, despite the locks on it.

The beast licked his lips with his long, skinny tongue as he slowly approached my trembling body inside the hamper. I began to bounce myself and rock the hamper as Krampus got closer and closer. The hamper wouldn’t fall no matter how hard I rocked it, and the creature was nearly upon me. I felt it’s breath on me as it excitedly panted, getting further. I expected it’s breath to be hot like that of a dog’s, but instead it felt like the coldest winter chill caressing my skin.

I shook the whole hamper as savagely as I could before it finally budged. The hamper fell and before I knew it I was on the first floor. I crawled out of the shoot and ran to the kitchen as the demon rampaged upstairs. As I came into the kitchen, I noticed no signs of my little brother, but I did see that the hot cocoa maker was on. The stomping of the creature upstairs continued but didn’t seem to be near the stairs so I focused on finding Levi. He wasn’t hiding in any cabinets, and he wasn’t anywhere in the living room. I decided that he might be in his room, so I quietly creeped to it slowly, but steadily. The twins’ room was trashed entirely, and Levi wasn’t there. There was blood on the wall. I shudder to think that it once belonged to my baby brother. A small, bloody hand print was smeared on the wall by the door. Dread was all that I could feel in that moment. Dread for misbehaving all year. Dread for what had become of my little brother. And dread for the silence that fell in place of hooves stomping around upstairs.

I quickly and silently made my way back to the kitchen and took out a large coffee pitcher of scolding hot cocoa. As I kept out of the kitchen into the living room, I had a ominous feeling of dread as if I were being watched. I could barely see in the dark of the night and I couldn’t locate our light switches, the only source of light I had was the dim, eerie glow of the lights from the Christmas tree. As I scanned all entrances to the dining room, something moving caught my eye. The chandelier had began to start swinging as if something had bumped it or hit it. There was soft thudding that accompanied the squeaking of the rocking corona. As I looked around to make out another vague shape in the glow Christmas lights, I saw what bumped the chandelier.

The monster was crawling on my ceiling like a large, twisted spider. His arms were bent in excruciating looking ways to grip the ceiling and watch me with his eyes that burn like fire. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs at the very sight of it, but instead I held my ground. A cruel smile spread across the face of the predator who was stalking me. He undug his fingers from the ceiling and landed on the floor in front of me with a thunderous crash, mere inches away from me. This was his mistake.

I threw the entire pitcher of burning hot cocoa on his face and the beast immediately started writhing in agony. He covered his hands over his quickly blistering face. He took his hands off of his face just as it began to melt and peal off, the bits of flesh and blood melting away to reveal his horrible skull with it’s eyes still in their sockets. It froze for a while, and for a brief moment, I was happily assured and content that the Krampus was dead. But then it only started cackling an awful and disturbingly malevolent laugh. It pierced my ears like knives and over loomed over me to instill as much fear as it could.

It was working. Before my very eyes the muscles around the creatures skull started to grow back and in seconds it’s new face had formed. It looked more like a goat with pointy teeth than a human, but you could still partially see it in there. It’s beard was still as long as before, but now it looked almost out of place on the demonic beast’s head. I turned and ran behind the Christmas tree, avoiding the abomination’s lanky arms as I ran by.

The Krampus immediately started coming towards the tree intent on harming me. I push the large plastic evergreen on the monster and ran back upstairs to find my little brother. I wailed on my other siblings’ doors, but no one would wake up no matter how hard I pounded on their doors. Everyone locks the doors to their rooms when we go to sleep so we’re not bothered, but the doors are also heavy and not much sound get through them. I began to shout for Levi as loud as I could hoping he’d respond.

Then Levi appeared at the top of the stares. We stared at each other, he looked terrified and sad. I started to walk towards him, when suddenly my baby brother was impaled by the Krampus’s horns. His body was thrusted up and thrashed around by the savage creature as he convulsed and shook spastically on it’s horns. I’ve seen people die on T.V. before, but watching it in real life is entirely different, no one should have to go through it. My brother didn’t deserve that, no one deserves that. Santa and Christmas are about love and cheer. Krampus made Christmas about hatred and retribution. I watched helplessly while the thing ripped my brother’s shaking body from it’s horns, and dropped his lifeless body into the basket on his back.

The demon began to strut towards me with malicious intentions, so I ducked into mom and dad’s empty room and opened the top right drawer in my dad’s dresser. I wasn’t tall enough to see what I was reaching for, but when I felt it, I pulled out my dad’s pistol. I opened the other dresser, and had put two bullets in the pistol by the time the creature burst open the door. I shot it twice and hit it both times, but it was unfazed by the bullets. The loud noise clearly hurt both our ears, and as the monster clawed at it’s ears while screaming in pain, I began to quickly crawl towards the window until something long, thin, tight, and slimy gripped my right leg and began pulling me back. I looked behind me to my terror to see the Krampus was using it’s incredibly long tongue to pull me to it’s mouth full of sharp, jagged teeth.

I began to breath in and out quicker and quicker, and began panicking as my foot got closer to it’s mouth. I lifted my left leg and kicked it in the face twice before it’s tongue finally loosened. Before I could breath Krampus picked me up and began shaking me wildly. I kicked him a second time, this time with my right foot, and he flung me into the hallway where I began limping away.

I had reached the end of the hallway when I heard a loud popping crack sound, moments before feeling a sharp sting all across my back. I looked back and saw that the holiday devil had whipped me with a whip like a lion tamer would use. I felt the warm ooze onto my back as new pain started setting in. I started to limp away to safety when I was picked up by Krampus again. His long, cold fingers wrapped around my back and stung my cut even worse. He looked at me, right in the eye, before lifting me behind him and dropping me into the birch basket on his back.

On the outside of the basket, it looks like it could only fit a couple kids inside, but the inside was massive. I fell into a mountain of bodies. There were hundreds or thousands of kids in that one basket, piled on each other, not all alive. Where you couldn’t see other kids which made up the trembling ground, you saw only darkness. No sounds could be heard from inside, or outside really, either. Kids would scream, mutter, shout until their throats clearly hurt, but no sounds came from their mouths. Every time I thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, it got way worse. I waited what felt like millennia to escape, as new kids would fall in and join the confusion to show how much time passed.

Eventually, the Krampus reached into the basket and began to pull out another child. His arm became larger as he reached in the basket and stretched out to a panicked girl. I grabbed onto her leg, and let myself be carried to salvation. When we were pulled from the basket, I let go of the kid and fell behind Krampus. He didn’t notice I escaped, he was to focused on the girl. He looked at the small girl for a second before biting into her flesh with his large sharp, teeth. I never knew the kid’s name before the creature devoured her, but I owe her my life for helping me escape. I backed away slowly from behind as Krampus feasted on my fellow child at it’s dinner table. I had no idea where I was now, but it was dark and it was cold. I think it’s where the creature lives. After the monster was finished eating, he picked up a small wooden box, opened the top, and spat something that glowed a bright green into it. He then took the box over to a rusted doofus that he opened, entered, than left a few minutes later without the box. He then left the room, leaving the child’s remains on a large platter and a rusty door to my curiosity.

I opened the door to see dozens of more wooden boxes. I also saw many creepy looking porcelain dolls and other creepy toys. The door behind me closed and I was emerged in total darkness. I got out my phone and used it to barely light my way. I walked past a jack in the box with a scary face, I walked past a baby doll that looked withered and old. I found a sac doll that looked like a creepy rotting skeleton too. I thought it was like Santa’s rejected toy shop until I found the word “MISFITS” smeared in red paint next to a clown with a skull for a head, blue eyes in it’s sockets and big fleshy hands. I was terrified someone else was caught in that room before. When I got closer to the clown, it jumped towards me and yelled “Wanna play?” I got really scared and jumped back as the clown let out a scary laugh.
I heard scurrying and tiny footsteps of other toys from all around. I started catching the dolls and ginger bread men turning their heads as I ran along the walls trying to relocate the door. I found another message on the wall: “Why can’t we die?” was scratched into the wall by something. I wanted nothing more than for this night to end.

When I located the door, I bolted for it as soon as I saw it, but was tripped by a toy soldier with realistic burns on half of his face. I kicked the tiny hunk of plastic away and moved closer to the door when a deformed baby doll bit appeared from the darkness and sank her teeth into my leg. I felt a surge of pain and fell to the ground. I furiously punched the doll’s head repeatedly until it unlocked it’s tiny teeth from my flesh. The porcelain atrocity scurried off as other terrible toys danced around me in the darkness. More and more of them kept popping up and coming out of…. Out of the boxes like the one Krampus spat the glowing thing into. The the toys began muttering words, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. The muttering got louder and louder until I understood some of their words. “Feel our pain.” “He killed us, but not entirely” “He gobbled me up and spat my soul into a puppet.” “Kill us.” “Let us die”

The things they said were terribly dreadful to say the least. I got up and started to make my way to the door as the dolls chanted more obscene things yo me. “We’re gonna eat you alive like he ate us!” “I’m gonna rip out your eyes!” Although they continued to chant none of them came towards me again as I moved around the dark room. I saw a small toy skeleton in Santa’s clothes with a beard move by. A puppet with many nails sticking out of it’s wooden head was strung up to the ceiling, moving and wresting with its strings.

I spotted a stool that was pulled up to a work bench with tools and a teddy bear on it. The teddy bear had real bear claws sticking from his paws and real human teeth in its mouth. I reasoned that this was Krampus’s demented toy shop and decided to leave before it was to late. I walked past the bench to the door, and started pulling on the rusty metal handle. The door was extremely heavy, but slowly budged and started opening as I pulled back with all my might. Light began to bathe the room and the misfit toys dashed to the shadows to avoid the light. I ran from the dark room, closed the door behind me, and leaned on it for a while to catch my bearings. I looked around at the only other room in this place that was familiar to me. I went by the long table the monster ate the nameless girl at, trying not to think about it. Trying to think of something, anything to distract me from the horrors I have bared witness to on the most unsuspecting and happiest time of year.

I walked to an open door and poked only half my head out to scan the perimeter of the room. It lead to a large room that had various whips, saws, and various other torture devices. I kept in and kept to the wall. I spotted three dark wooden doors amongst the darkness and concrete walls. I also found a window, and the snow outside was falling so slowly. So peacefully. Two doors were on one large wall, opposite of the window, and the other was on the wall to the right of the window. I first tried on one of the doors on the long wall, but had decided beforehand to go to the door right of the window thinking it would lead me closer to a door out or something. The walls were lined with racks, and racks were lined with hellish masks. Some had horns, some had long serpent tongues sticking out, some had teeth, some had patches of skin, some had antlers, one was a wired skull with antlers and the antlers had lit candles on them. It was so strange. The room was so large, the other door led to the same room. I left with out moving the door in fear that closing the heavy door would create noise and would lead the creature to me.

I walked along side the wall to avoid the equipment, straight to the only door I had left. I opened the door slowly and with caution. The first thing in the room I noticed was a strange tree, that looked like an upside down, purple Christmas tree. The trunk in was on the bottom, but the pines and branches looked upside down. The tree was decorated with red and green lights, and… Small bones.

There was another window in this room, but it was on the same side as the last. There was an open doorway that led to a hallway that T’d off and two signs labeled the directions. The right one said “Surveillance Room” and the left one said “Stables.” I went to the stables thinking I might be able to find a reindeer to fly out of that place with. It seems like a silly plan now in hindsight. I opened the stable door and awful smells invaded my nostrils immediately. There was frost on the floor as well.

There were 8 stables lined up along the wall to the right, each with demonic reindeer heads sticking out. Below each head was the doors to each stall, each with pendants of names on them. I read the names out loud as I started down the row. Each deer was grotesque in their own right. One or two had exposed skulls. Each had jagged teeth, some had manes and others had dried blood on their fur. Seven of their eyes glowed red. “Slasher…” I said as I passed the first one. “Wrathful… Gorgon… Putrid… Cyclops…” Cyclops was missing one fiery eye. “Rabies… Goner…” The last monstrous reindeer looked like a hellish Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer. His head held flames that danced from its gnarled snout to the back of its mane. Between its sharpened, bloody antlers furiously flickered bolts of electricity.


I decided riding one was out of the question and began searching for an exit. I realized the only door to the room was the one I came from. I looked all over the room looking for some other way out and saw the reason for the cold. The top crease and upper part of one wall was missing and led outside. It was far too high to reach. I left the stable room and went into the surveillance room. The handle felt icy cold as I slowly opened the door. The room like all the rest, was large. One wall was covered with monitors. The bottom, middle monitor stuck out more than the rest and had a keyboard below it. A chair was also pulled up to it. Each screen had various kids on it, some in dreadful conditions, others minding their own business. No sound came from the monitors, but I started to notice I was hearing a ticking noise. A clock above the door I came in read “5:45” Christmas Day didn’t start at my house until six o’clock. The wall opposite of the monitors had many names scratched into it. I wondered if the dead girl’s name was scratched into the wall.

A door that read “EXIT” was to the right of the monitors, but the computer said “Search Name.”

I sat in the large chair and typed in “Garret Rockford.” A nutcracker that had two bodies attached from the sides of it’s head popped up. Each body seemed to be trying to yank away from the other. Its face looked like it was in pain, and it had the same color of eyes as Levi…. And Garrett.

I looked up “Levi Rockford” and the same thing popped up. I sat frozen in aw for a moment. Tears filled my eyes and ran down my cheeks. The ticking of the clock seemed to turn into clopping as I sobbed. I was crying more than I ever cried before. I cried so hard I’d began hearing a ringing. Than the chair I was in was spun around and I was face to face with Krampus.

He looked menacing and insidiously sinister. His horns were partly covered in blood, his long fingers looked sharp, and his eyes burned like never before. He waved his long, sharp, bony finger at me and tsk’d. “Naughty, naughty.” He said cruelly and mockingly. He licked my face with his incredibly long tongue, than began to wrap it around my throat. He started constricting his tongue and choked me. I was gurgling and coughing and struggling did close to nothing. I started feeling weaker and weaker as my head heated up my lungs screamed for air. My vision even started to become blurred. Then I knew if I didn’t do something quickly, I was going to die.

I punched him in the face with all my might and knocked him back for only a brief moment as his tongue recoiled into his mouth, I utilized my time and ran toward the exit. I felt the ground shake directly behind me as heavy hooves shook the floor violently in their wake. I felt the creature’s cool breath on the back of my neck. I pushed the door open and ran into the freezing cold as my pursuer followed suit. I ran until I was knee deep in snow, until a lanky hand gripped me and started dragging me back. The dark sky slowly lit as the sun started to emerge from the bottom horizon.

The Krampus stopped dragging me. He dropped me and stared briefly at the rising sun. “I’ll come get you again.” He said as he dropped my leg and retreated to his lair as I lay in the snow. A silhouetted figure came from a distance. I closed my eyes for what felt like seconds, but when I opened my eyes, the sun was higher in the sky, and the figure was closer. I could make out that he was wearing red, than I passed out again.

I opened my eyes to see an outstretched hand with a black mitten on it. It belonged to A fat, bearded man with a silly hat. “S-Santa?” I inquired.

“Ssshhh, child,” he said in a soft soothing voice. “let’s take you home.”

The next thing I remember was waking up in my bed at home. Levi and Garret were “kidnapped” in the middle of the night, I found out from Rebecca, Brad, and Molly who already told our parents and the cops. I tried to tell them what really happened but no one believed me, they only got mad when I tried to explain it to them. So I gave up on trying to tell them. That’s how I spent MY Christmas.

Original Story

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