Santa Claus Is Coming To Town
Channel: Scary Stories
Date: 2022-12-13

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town



Windows boarded. Doors padlocked. Lights snuffed out. Chimney baracaded. With heart pounding I press myself between my parents legs, backs against the livingroom wall. Straining to hear for any sound beyond the house but so far it appeared as nothing was stirring, not even a mouse. 

From across the room I can see there are gaps in the wood giving an obscured look at the two closest houses across the street. Like ours, their house is pitch black but I know that the Johnsons and the Yang's are cowering in their homes just like we are. The whole street is.

It feels like hours have passed but soon I hear the faint sound of sleigh bells and suddenly my shoulders are gripped tight by my mum and dad. He's come. All of a sudden its harder to breathe, I suck the air up but it doesn't feel like enough and my breathing is so loud! Is it normally that loud? Is he going to hear me? My mum crouches in front of me, wipes away tears I didn't realize had fallen and cradles me in her arms. She tells me I have to remain quiet. That I have to be good. I have heard this from her countless times. 

The bells grow louder but remain slow. Each beat painfully drawn out as it passes overhead then circles back around. Its going to stop at our street tonight. I can't help it, a squeak of a cry escapes my mouth before my dad covers it tightly with his hand. I watch as my mother silently prays for our house not to be chosen, her lips moving frantically and eyes shut painfully tight. A thud sounds as a heavy object touches down on a roof... but it's not ours. Dad breathes out a hard sigh of relief but he's still trembling. The three of us creep towards the window and peer out through the few inches gap between the two boards. 

I can't see the sleigh or the reindeers, but I know it must be there. We cant see much at all at first. As my eyes adjust I can finally make out some obscure shapes. A wide shadow figure on the roof of the Johnsons house, it's heavy steps shaking fresh snow off the tiles as it walks. Then, with all its force, it slams itself into the chimney. Brick pieces exploding into the air as he bellows in a voice that sounds like a painfully slow, warped record; "hang your stockings and say your prayers, 'cause Santa Claus comes tonight."

I have never witnessed an attack with my own eyes before, just the videos people have posted online. My parents don't know about those. They don't know that I have seen what is about to happen before, but even so it hasn't prepared me for the real thing. A warmth runs down my legs as my terror escapes in physical form but my wide eyes stay glued to the window. The three of us are paralysed, forced to watch what is about to happen.

He knows he can't get down the chimney, so he's smashing it to pieces in frustration. The Johnsons blocked their chimney too but it will only be a delay for the inevitable. He will get inside. He gets on all fours and crawls over the edge of the roof and down the side of the house, peering into each of the windows as he chuckles his trademark "Ho, Ho, Ho!", searching for the room that the family are hiding inside. He must have found what he was looking for as once he gets to one of the bedroom windows he begins to relentlessly pound his fists into the brick while staring into the window. All the while he jovially sings 'Let It Snow'. With each punch the hole in the wall gets larger and larger until he can tear his way inside the house. We can just about hear the guttural screams of the family now that there is a large hole in their house. 

Wave after wave of screaming. It pierces the silent night. We see nothing for a long time and eventually it falls quiet once more. Minutes pass until a faint glowing can be seen in the otherwise dark house, moving from one window to another. Back to the hole. Out he comes with the two children, Jack and Harry, no more than 5 years old, wrapped up in Christmas lights and dangling by their feet. Their backs are bent back painfully and stockings stuffed into their mouths to keep their screams in. He has hold of them as he climbs back out and up to the roof again. He's covered in blood but most noticeably his mouth has the worst of it. His whole face is covered in red gore which only showcases the whites of his wide, unblinking eyes as he looks out over the neighborhood. He knows everyone is watching. Just like we know he is always watching. He throws them into his sleigh.

Jack and Harry weren't good this year. And they are never seen again.

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