Giving

Disclaimer: This is the final entry for the Christmas competition..
== Introduction ==
For years on end, an aging house subsisted. On the other side of a gaping ravine, to be precise. For many years it rested on the grassy land which then overtook it as time grew weary. Vines climbed the rickety spires and hung over the broken crosshead windows. The wood was weakened by years of merciless weather. But the interior stood strong, for reasons no one could ponder on. For many years it stood boldly, the sun would strike its back, sending a shadow to loom over the other side of the ravine; where many came to stop and stare at the unfathomable sight. 
Then the snow arrived. It blanketed the house, weighing the roof down like a soaked rag. Yet the house still has thrived from many people’s perspective. The houses everlasting existence was a mystery in its own. For there was something else; something that made people keep their distance for their own well-being. Once a year, the time in which many get together (no matter what condition) and celebrate with great joy. Christmas, the happiest holiday of the year. But the ones who live near the ancient two-story house wouldn’t go without a little sense of paranoia.
On that very night, the light would break through the house. A mysterious entity lurked within the abandoned structure. A looter perhaps? But a strange coincidence it would seem, that they came back once a year. What could they be up to? Many bystanders who see the lights coming from inside the house remained cowardly, only theorizing. However, there was one man who was brave enough to investigate. 
With that, he built across the ravine and went inside the house carrying not more than a torch and his utter curiosity. To the dismay of many, he never returned. Everyone there was too afraid to go rescue him from his unknown fate. One thing was for sure however he was certainly dead. And so, the house and its residence remained shrouded in utter conundrum until one day…
== Story ==
My name is John Carell. I was in search of my older brother named Lee Carell. About eleven months had passed since he stepped in that godforsaken house. He was yet another person in my family who disappeared when trying to set food on the table. The idea of getting paid a fortune had driven him into that house, just like my father who suffered a grizzly death while working in the mines. 
Life at the time was disastrous. The only thing I wanted to do was get my brother back. It was Christmastime, and I figured if that ghostly entity shows up, I might be able to locate Lee as well. I am truly not sure why I thought that, but I wasn’t the only one that came up with the idea. Someone once said that the illuminating glow that moved within the old house was a spirit of some sort that once lived there. This gave me the hair-raising thought that Lee most likely died and was living with the unknown entity. I quickly shook that off as a foolish feeling. There is no such spectacle being. 
The simplified bridge Lee had built was still there, left as a memorial and a temptation device. Many have been dared to walk across that bridge, but they were all later marked as cowards. Serves them right; I suppose. Not in my case though, I was determined to figure out what happened to my best friend and family member. He was always there for me. He never left my side unless there was an opportunity to give us all a happy life. We were very poor, my mother and I lived in an aging survival hut. We would encounter a leak here and there, a few patches of tangled, lush grass. It was no paradise, that’s for sure. Especially with the freezing winter.
I felt more prepared than Lee. I brought a wooden pickaxe, two torches, and a few pieces of dried bread. Not the best inventory but it would do, it’s not like I was going to spend the night there. I mean—I was afraid. I had no clue what I would find there but I predicted it would be nothing good. Still, my brother was the bravest guy I knew. So why couldn’t I?
The frozen night went on with gusts of the wind and snow swirling around the overworld. At times like these creatures like zombies and skeletons hated the cold just as much as the sunlight. Therefore, it was safe to get outside and play on the white powered ground. I, however, left the joyous crowd and went up the bridge filling the gap between the safe zone and the mysterious land beyond. With one uneasy breath I stepped onto the bridge, it creaked beneath me eerily. I looked up at the house, and my heart skipped a beat. Its shadow stared down at me in a mocking sensation. The farther I walked, the bigger the house seemed to get.
The snow got deeper as I walked slowly toward the entrance. The door was blocked off by warning signs which I destroyed with my wooden pickaxe. The door creaked open to reveal seemingly impenetrable darkness. I whipped out a torch and without a moment of hesitation, I stepped inside. The interior of the house was shrouded in darkness and the torch illuminated not more than a single chest in the center of the room. I shrugged and popped the top open. The rancid smell of rotten flesh filled the room, and I gagged dramatically. I quickly slammed the chest shut and the terrible aroma ceased. 
I looked around the room, holding my torch high. I was surrounded by three doors, including the one I came through. I walked through the one to the left and discovered what was obviously the kitchen. A few broken-down furnaces were placed on either side of the room and signs with faded text naming foods, hanged above chests. With not much to look through, I exited the room and went into the next one. It was completely empty aside from the shattered flower pot and a staircase leading to the second floor. I slowly made my way up, gripping on the fractured banister. The stairs felt hollow and I felt as if I was going to fall straight through at any moment. Luckily that didn’t happen. 
The second floor was constructed like a hallway connected to five or six rooms. I found a dusty black disc on the floor; it had a chip in it, but it looked like it still would work. I scooped it up and stuffed it in my pocket. I figured it would be good to loot the place, so I could probably sell what I found. Who knows, some of the stuff could’ve been worth a lot. I was beginning to think that maybe the place wasn’t so bad after all. But the fact that my brother went missing there still made me a bit worried.
I suddenly wondered what I was even doing at that place. Was I searching for my brother? What was I expecting? Nothing really made sense. 
I then thought about what was left of my family. My mother and me. We were living in execrable conditions, and to make matters worse it was marked the happiest day of the year. I should’ve been there for her. Family. That’s what Christmas was all about, wasn’t it?
I shook my head. I felt foolish for coming. My mother must have been worried about sickly. I was gone for at least a little over an hour. I was about to go downstairs when I heard something. Three or more voices whispering amongst themselves. I heard a door swing open, then another and another. The voices slowly grew in numbers and volume as they wandered around the first floor. I could see a yellow light traveling up the staircase. I stumbled backward. I then quickly scrambled to my feet and ran to the end of the hallway, making a turn and dashing through a door.
I barricaded it with a nearby crafting table. The door shook widely, and I backed up against the farthest corner. “Get away from me!” I yelled. The door suddenly busted opens, the crafting table slid away on the icy floor. Soon enough a cloaked figure stepped in carrying an active torch. To my surprise, another one came in, and another. It wasn’t long before I was encompassed by a society of strange beings. One took a step closer to me. I closed my eyes and turned away, and the figure bent over me. Then it spoke, “it's been a long time, hasn’t it?”
I opened my eyes. That voice. He sounded like someone I knew. I turned my head back. The figure was no longer hooded. My eyes widened. “I missed you, brother.” He said in a soft voice. I didn’t know what to say, how to react, what to do. I just wanted to know what was going on.
“I…I thought you were d-dead.” I stammered. 
My brother smiled, “Lee Carell, in the flesh.”
Tears began to flood my eyes. I wrapped my arms around him. He gladly excepted my hug. “Where were you?” I asked him through desperate sobs. 
“I love you and mother,” he said empathetically, “but there was someone who needed me. Who needed all of us.”
I loosened my loving grip on him and responded, “What are you talking about?”
Suddenly, another cloaked figure pulled back their hood. He was a bearded man with a bald head. He looked to be around fifty years old. He spoke in a deep voice, “The meaning of Christmas is to give.” Another cloaked figure stepped out from the crowd and revealed their face. A woman with black hair and an eyepatch. “We are family.” Another women much older than the first spoke up, “He brought us all together.” Then someone else said, “And we must pay him back.” I began to feel scared again. More and more cloaked people gave their words until the final one said, “He is our creator, and we must please him or else.”
“What is going on?” I shouted.
“Hey, hey. Calm down.” My brother put a hand on my shoulder, but I slapped it away.
“So, you just ran away,” I hollered, “is that it? You just went with these cultists to worship some fictional being? You're insane! You had a family for fuck's sake! How could you do this?”
Lee simply smiled broadly and said, “Fictional? Ha-ha. You’ll understand very soon.” He then motioned to a fellow cultist who stepped in the center of the room. They pulled back their hood. He was a boy around my age. Lee turned to the crowd and said, “this young lad has been chosen as the gift to sustain our mighty savior and us. He will walk parallel along beaches and ponder upon existence for eternity. He will guide and be guided by the God of Gods. Clause!”
The cultist began cheering. They threw glow stone dust on him. He had an expression of pure happiness and excitement. They placed redstone torches around him. I watched in confusion as the ceremony went on. Then the room went silent abruptly. A few minutes passed before Lee said, “Merry Christmas, Drew.” Lee pulled out a book and recited a speech written in a language I didn’t know. All of the sudden, the young man began convulsing. He still managed to remain standing. His body was slowly lifted off the ground by an unknown force. His eyes rolled in the back of his head. An eerie red mist seeped out of his ears, mouth, and nose. I continued to stare in horror. 
The red mist swirled around him, before long, his body wasn’t even visible. After what seemed like forever, the mist lifted to reveal a terribly mutilated body. The skin was completely torn off and his arms and legs were sinuous and contorted. The mouth suddenly opened unnaturally to reveal something horrifying. It looked like there was another humanoid being with the same appearance. It was inside. Two hands shot out of the mouth and gripped onto the face. After about fifteen minutes the whole upper half of another body was crawling out of the other. The back on the second entity tore open and two blood red wings were revealed. The appalling entity lifted itself off the floor with its large, elongated winds. The cheering among the crowd started up again.
The creature dashed upward and tore through the roof, I could hear it’s laughing maniacally as it flew off into the night. One of the cultists said, “Do you think Clause will like it?” I vomited on the floor. Lee put a hand on my back and I flinched. 
Lee craned his head to my ear and said, “You’ll get used to it. After all, the gift of giving is the greatest gift you can receive.” 
He wasn’t wrong. Gifting somebody will make you just as happy as they are.
It could even save your life.
Category:Shrautsticks
Category:Creepypasta
Category:ACPT 2019 entry