Bloody Santa: Short Story

 

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I had never ever believed in Santa but what I had always believed in are psychotic murderers who just loves to murder people with no reason. It all started a week ago when the people living four houses away from mine was found dead. They were believed to be killed and hung from the ceiling fan, to make it seem as if it was a mass suicide when its obvious that it was murder. The next day, 4 houses from that house burned down, killing everyone inside. It was an intense moment as firefighters tried their best to go in but failed miserably.

Then, another family was brutally murdered and by then, 80% of the residents in the neighbourhood left, some leaving everything behind. The number of police forces patrolling the area increased significantly too but nobody trusts anybody anymore especially when too many deaths took place in such a short period of time. Nobody among the people who stayed were convinced of anything but after 80% of people left and every street covered by at least 5 police cars, the mood suddenly felt like christmas again except this time, we felt more like in prison.

I was sleeping soundly in my room with my cats when I heard someone knocking on the door. I ran downstairs, thinking it was the police but when I peeked through the window, I could see that the person was wearing a santa suit. Thinking it was one of my friend, I took out my phone to see if anyone was there. Surely enough, I had indeed received a message from my friend saying that he needed the keys to come in.

I unlocked the door and froze in fear when I heard my friend calling my name saying, “Where are you going?”. Immediately, I could feel ‘Santa’ pushing the door, trying to get in. I held it with all my might and with my friend’s help, we managed to lock the door. “How did you get in?” I asked. “You left the keys outside,” he said and I froze in fear of how forgetful I had got. Then, the knocking started.

“Open up!” the person outside shouted. “Call the cops,” I said to friend who was already on the phone. “Santa’s here!!” the person outside said in excitement as if we were kids, waiting for presents on Christmas Eve. I could literally feel my legs shaking as I waiting for the police to arrive. Without any warning, the psycho outside took an axe and swung it at the door, creating a crack. “LET! SANTA! IN!” he shouted and I ran to my room, locking the door behind me.

At this point, my friend was already yelling on the phone, asking where the hell the police are. I opened the window and saw dead bodies outside. “They are all dead!” I screamed as I heard the front door fell apart. “Don’t be a naughty kid….Santa don’t like it……” the man started to sing. “Open the door now….you want your presents don’t you?” he asked and I remained quiet. As he swung his axe at the fragile door, breaking it, I could see that he really dresses up as santa, with all the wigs and beard.

He stood in front of me before asking, “What do you want for Christmas this year?”. “I want you to die,” I said before pushing him to the ground. “Your wish is granted,” he said to me as I took the axe and hit his head with it. Of course, I got away a free man even after I killed my friend too for annoying me with his anxiety and fear of going into prison and all that ridiculous things. From that day on, I became Santa, going from door to door, asking what people want for Christmas. Of course, they all have a price to pay, even when it involves death.

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