Christmas Day II

There was a sudden banging sound that came from the other room in the basement. We journeyed into the game room, and I realized that it was coming from the crawlspace.

I remember just when the house was bought I used to go in there for fun until I cut myself on a nail. It was not a fun experience, and since then I hadn't returned.

I wish he could have ignored it. I wish I could have told my parents. I wish I could have done anything other than go in.

But if it meant their wrath focused on me and not the people I loved, then so be it. It used my nails to pry open the long shut door and carefully opened it.

There was no one inside, but there was a small chest fixed with four locks.

I knew what they wanted us to do. I wasn't stupid. But even if I left it here it would still have found a way to us. I picked it up and brought it into the center of the room. My girls all looked more than just a little perturbed.

"Dude, seriously. I'm getting freaked out." Vivian tried to laugh through her fear with little success.

Naomi looked at her key and then at the chest. She said, "Hey, my key might fit this lock."

And it did. With one turn of the key the lock fell to the ground. Only three to go. I was almost helpless as each lock was freed from the chest.

"Did you plan this at all?" Naomi looked at me, curious to see my answer. I shook my head. I slid the chest ajar and found that it housed a rat skull resting comfortably on an old pocket watch. Rebecca shuddered at the sight while Florence fearlessly reached in and inspected them. As her fingers moved over the skull it cracked and turned to dust within seconds.

The pocket watch was in perfect working condition, yes, but the arms moved in the wrong direction--backwards. I held it in the palm of my hand...and then it stopped.

That's when we heard the sound of rats in the walls. The squeaking and scratching was seemingly everywhere.

The game room door slammed shut without anyone prompting it, trapping us. The lights went out, and though we were grown adults, we screamed.

The door slowly, ever so slowly creaked open. The light that came out was sterile, harsh, and I hesitated to even go near it.

But I did. I looked outside and saw that we had transported into a silent winter tundra. We were all so confused and frightened, but I saw no other way out than through. The snowflakes were thick and heavy and came down at a steady pace.

"This is impossible," Rebecca murmured. "Christ Almighty, what is going on?!"

"I don't know...I honestly don't know." I reached over and held her trembling hands. This all went against the reality she so cherished--she was probably holding back a nervous breakdown. I looked back to the silent playroom and saw that everything was beginning to rot and rust away.

The only way out was through.

We ran into the snow as the room fell to pieces, crumbling in on itself as we watched helplessly. We were stranded in a whiteout, so cold and so frightened.

Naomi gasped out, "Elizabeth! What's happening?! What was that?! Why is this--how is this--what is going on?!"

"I don't know! I just don't!" I screamed it out louder than I should have. "But this is kind of what happened on Halloween."

"Are you serious?!" Florence blurted out.

"Yeah, but this...this is worse. So much worse. I don't even know what it wants. Last time they demanded that I leave before midnight or everyone dies."

They all believed now. I wish to God they didn't. I looked around and saw nothing but grey clouds and snow as far as the eye could see. The farther we walked the worse the weather became.

And then there was an icy wind that seemed to blow right through us, the cold chilling the tips of our hair and fingers.

When I opened my eyes I saw a man, dressed all in black and a Venetian mask concealing his face (a patch covered the right eye), appeared before us. He extended his gloved right hand, as if asking to dance. We backed away from him.

Behind the man was the Fear Dubh, as black as the world around us was white. Its arms were like a gnarled, diseased ridden tree. The man still held out his hand.

In a split second I became overridden with anger. Here they were--toying not only with me, but with my dearest friends. I screamed out curse after curse, demanding that they stay away from me and the people I loved. I felt my girls' arms struggling to drag me back, but I didn't relent.

Looking back it was probably so stupid of me to even try to challenge them. There was a blinding flash of white, then nothing.

The next thing I knew I was in the woods near my once. Again. Flat on my back and my Christmas dress gone from my body (the shoes, however, were left), I laid there for a few minutes to try and process what just happened. Outside of the now functional pocket watch, there wasn't anything cryptic or useful on me or around me.

With as much dignity as I could muster, I made my way out of the woods and began the slow trek back to my house. Along the way I worried sick over my friends, my girls--where they were, if they were okay.

The rest of my family was asleep when I unlocked the front door (thank god for the spare key under the happy Santa statue). The first place I went to was the basement, and much to both my confusion and relief, it was as if nothing had happened.

The nutcracker was gone as was the chest, both of them nowhere to be seen. I was happy I would hopefully never have to see either of them again.

Much later my parents interrogated me on where I went last night and why we all left. They were fuming, which was more than understandable. I didn't know what to say or how to say it. I made up a story about how we all took long walk which ended with us getting lost. I don't think they bought it.

I'm happy to say that all four of them are fine. They were teleported to odd places around their homes (Florence in an old fire pit, Naomi in a pool, Vivian in a tree, and Rebecca in her garden). It's hard to laugh about it, since it was so terrifying, but I'm scared of what else is going to happen.

Christmas Day part I

I am currently recovering from what can only be described as the most unnerving Christmas of all time. I'm lucky to be alive, to be honest, and now my poor girls are roped into this, too.

Christmas Eve was spent at our cousin's apartment. We chatted, drank out after dinner coffees and exchanged a few gifts here and there. We stayed until nine-thirty, in which we returned home to wait the arrival of St. Nick himself.

Our house had been Christmas central for a long, long time, becoming a tradition. My family and I threw ourselves into the holiday and every level was exquisite. In the happily blinking outdoor lights I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a flash of someone moving to a darker area. I blinked and my heart began to race a bit. Would I have another note tapped to the door in the morning...or something worse?

As soon as we got into the house I made sure that all the doors and windows were locked. I chastised myself for doing something so foolish--they would find a way in no matter what, and that alone made me terrified for my family.

Sleep didn't come easy, but I managed.

Christmas morning should have been a happy one, and at first, it was. We opened up presents and ate Christmas-y pancakes, drank eggnog and played with the gifts we so loved.  For a few hours we watched classic movies and enjoyed one another's company until it was time for the party. I went upstairs to my room and stopped dead in my tracks.

The Nutcracker was out on its box (which had been shoved in the back of a closet) and stood proudly on my bed, staring at me intently. I honestly didn't know what to expect from the thing, but I was terrified of going any closer. I grabbed what I needed and ran out of my room like a coward. I refused to go back into my room.

Finally it came time for our little party, and just as promised my girls came. There was a  voice in my head that wanted to tell them that the party was cancelled and that they had to go home, if only for their safely. The only good side to what happened was no mysteriously locked doors.

We mingled, we laughed, they asked me how I was doing after the Halloween incident, and even though I said I was alright, I could tell they weren't buying it. Eventually I would have to come clean about everything.

Then Naomi looked behind me, her brow furrowing into a confused knot, and said, "Hey, who brought your nutcracker down?"

I spun around and there it was again on the dessert table as if it always was there. Florence was the first one to make her way over to it, and soon they all crowded around the table.

"Woah, it looks like someone put a lot of love and effort into making it." Rebecca sounded really, really impressed. "This is something you would see in museums or sold online for hundreds of dollars. Who sent you this?"

So I told the rest of them what happened. Vivian smiled a bit, "looks like someone likes you enough to do this. Save those notes and call the cops if they try to do anything funny. Until then, maybe we should try breaking a walnut with its mouth, just to see if it works."

"We didn't buy any walnuts, Vivian. Where do you see them?" I was out shopping with my parents the majority of the holiday season. I would have known for sure if we got any. In a small bowl near its feet were several nuts, all of which seemed to beg to be crushed. Without any prompting, Vivian took a walnut and was seconds away from trying it out.

Rebecca grabbed Vivian's wrist. "Vi, no! This looks priceless! That's actual gold leaf and Swarovski crystal on this thing! Don't break it!"

"She's not gonna break it, Becks. Chill out." Florence almost rolled her eyes. "I don't see the point of a nutcracker if it doesn't crack nuts, you know what I mean? Just one isn't going to kill it."

"I think we should go play some games and forget about this. Come on, my brother got a new fighting game I think you'll like... guys?" I tried to sway them away from their object of interest, but they were so fascinated by it that it was hard to drag them away.

Without even a second thought Vivian took her nut of choice, opened its mouth and pushed the handle down.

It cracked the walnut perfectly. But the shell didn't yield anything edible--inside was a tiny skeleton key. Vivian whistled her surprise. Next thing I knew, Florence took another nut, and yet another key appeared. Soon all four of my girls had beautiful keys as their prizes.

I didn't like where any of this was going. Unluckily for all of us, things didn't get any better. It was just getting started.

New Year and a Gift

2014 is upon us, sooner than I thought. Every new year seems like it comes quicker than the last one. It's freaky how every future becomes the present, and how every present becomes the past. In a way it's almost maddening. I wore  purple in honor of Catherine and the year she would never see. I tried calling her parents to wish them a happy new year, but they didn't pick up. I feel bad for them and I miss them terribly. I hope 2014 is kind to them.

On Christmas day I found a folded up piece of paper with my name on it taped to the front door. I already got a sense of dread before I even opened it. I nearly choked on my own air when I saw what it was.

[edit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8kILY6ZFFkk the video.]

Merry (late) Christmas

So hopefully you all enjoyed the holiday season as much as I have. I was supposed to write this yesterday, but I was swept away by presents, pancakes and parties. It was a lovely day, though I wish that Catherine was here with me. My girls celebrated it with their families, I celebrated it with mine. We're going to get together shortly to exchange the gifts we got for one another.

I hear we're supposed to get a lot of snow this winter. Here's to having snowball fights!

White Out

Months went by, and life continued as normal. Catherine and I proudly wore our engagement rings for the world to see, continuing to make plans and saving up.  But she still avoided forests (and any wooded area) and playgrounds like the plague with no real reason.

Sometimes Catherine would not return home for long hours after her shift at work without explaination, and Mr. Moore called more than once to see if she was with me or anyone else, as he could not reach Catherine by phone. But each time she would come home as if nothing happened, confused as to why we were all nervous. She told us that we had absolutely nothing to worry about. One thing you should know about Catherine: she never lied. Ever. So we all believed her.

One cold night we decided to go somewhere nice to eat, since we thought that it would be good to get out of our respective houses. We decided on a new German restaurant that opened up near us.

An old woman, so old we thought she would fall apart at any second, gently grabbed Catherine's sleeve and asked politely if she could have a sip of water. The poor woman was without any money, and she had been thirsty all day. With a smile Catherine gave her the entire water bottle. She drank it down in what seemed like a single gulp. The old woman tossed the bottle into the nearest garbage can and thanked my fiance many, many times as she hobbled away. We never saw that woman again.

That Christmas my family came over to our house to celebrate. Nothing unusual happened at all that night, but I did see Catherine look through the windows once or twice. My gift to her that year was a purple floral headband, her gift to me was a necklace.

The day after a heavy blizzard came in and covered our world with pure white. That was pretty much the sign that the time had come for an epic snowball fight. The roads, however, were far too dangerous for any of my friends to come by, so I instead played with my brother. He won, in case you were wondering.

Later in the week, Catherine texted me to go take a walk with her in the snow, which I of course agreed to. As we walked down the street, we talked about where she had been and what she had been doing. Catherine confessed that she had been looking for an apartment for us to rent out and had been doing research on where we could go for our honeymoon. It was supposed to be a surprise, she said.

That still doesn't explain why she hated forests and playgrounds. And not soon after our walk she began to dislike snow. No matter how much I tried to get her to open up and talk to me about these new fears, she refused. Even when I told her that I wouldn't judge or make rash assumptions. Catherine's parents, when they questioned her, had the same amount of luck as I did.  I don't know what else I could've done to ease her fears. If she was nervous about the upcoming wedding, she never said anything. Catherine was never the one to hold feelings in.