Entry for December contest theme
Shoppers frantically searching for the perfect gift, strings of sparkling lights blinking cheerfully, couples underneath the mistletoe, the sharp scent of a noble fir and friends and family snuggled together with the warmth of eggnog spreading to their toes.
Christmas is certainly a season of giving, but in the midst of good will towards man there are children who become too greedy, too absorbed with their own selves and who have lost the true spirit of Christmas. These children are the ones that will see the darker side as penance and by then… it’ll be far too late…
Shake! Shake! Jingle!
Little hands clasped the brightly wrapped package and turned it this way and that. When a pleasing sound was discerned, a smile rose to the child’s face before the pattern began all over again.
“Keith!”
The little boy glanced up from his investigation. A head popped out from behind the doorway down the hall, and when it saw what the child was up to the face quickly creased into a frown.
In a matter of moments, the present had been taken away and the boy was being rebuked. “Keith! How many times do I have to tell you? The next time you mess with the presents under the tree I’ll have to hide them until Christmas!”
“But Mum-!” He hung his head for only a second before switching to a plea.
The tall, dark-haired woman tucked the gift up on a high shelf out of reach and tsked, “No buts!” She looked as if she was going to say more when there was a sharp ring and she let out a long sigh. “It’s probably your father… Be good while I’m on the phone, Keith and go play with your brother.”
With that, she was brushing by unpacked moving boxes and piles of Styrofoam to reach the persistent ringing. The little boy, Keith, was left staring after her, arms crossed and lips pursed.
His gaze roamed the walls around him, devoid of any decoration. Past the room he was in the desolation only continued with the occasional oasis of comfort and familiarity. He pouted further. He hated moving and he hated this new empty house. It wasn’t home.
Eventually, he decided that his whims would not be tended to and there would be no more gifts shaking and he dashed up the staircase. The railing went on across the landing above before branching off to a short hallway with four doors. One was wide- open, sunlight pouring in and turning the spun-gold hair of his twin brother almost pure white.
Keith’s pout immediately faded as he pranced into the circular room. “Kam! Kam!”
The boy didn’t pause in playing with a bucketful of plastic soldiers that lay strewn across the rug, and another soldier fell victim to enemy gunfire and fell to the floor. It wasn’t until Keith laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder that he turned around.
Their faces were identical, uncanny mirror images of one another.
Kam’s eyes held a note of exasperation, as did his voice. “What is it this time?”
“Bleh!” Keith stuck out his tongue and plopped down across from his twin. “You don’t have to be so mean…”
“I wasn’t I was just asking a question,” Kam sighed and knocked over an entire squadron of soldiers with one flick of his wrist.
But, Keith continued to look anywhere but him, his bullheadedness plain in every part of his body. He was in a decidedly bad mood already and wasn’t up to his brother placating him as usual.
Time ticked by agonizingly slow as Kam continued playing god, ignoring Keith much to the boy’s displeasure. It had to have been a mere five minutes when Keith huffed and clambered to his feet.
“Fine! If you’re going to be this dull I’ll find something else to do in this stupid house!” Keith made to stomp out of the sunroom.
However, a small voice stopped him.
“I found a door in the attic.”
The boy looked back at his twin, who hadn’t lifted his blonde head. But he was indeed the one who had spoke.
A grin spread across Keith’s face and he walked over to Kam again.
“Really? There’s a door in the attic?”
Kam nodded.
“Well, come on and show me then!”
Finally, Kam looked up and rose to his feet. But as he took a step forward there was a distinct crack beneath his shoe. Both brothers glanced down as Kam lifted his foot revealing a plastic lieutenant who had been cracked clean in half.
With a peculiar air of solemnity, and Keith watching, Kam bent down and plucked both halves of the toy. For a moment he gazed at the pieces laying broken in the palm of his hand before dropping them into his trouser pockets.
“Follow me,” he stated quietly and walked out of the room.
Keith followed with a mutter of, “It was a piece of crap toy anyway…”
The brothers swiftly scaled the ladder that was still down from when their father had been moving stuff into the attic, and came out into a wide space of nothing but packing boxes.
Eyes scanned the room and came up empty. “So, Kam… I don’t see any door. Are you sure you aren’t imagining things-?”
His implication was cut short as Kam stepped back from the far right wall to reveal a miniature door. A door that Keith was sure hadn’t been there a minute ago.
“W-what? Where’d that come from?” he stuttered.
Without replying, his twin grasped the door handle and pushed inward. The door swung in silently, revealing a gaping mouth of darkness. Kam took a step over the threshold and into the abyss when he noticed his brother wasn’t following.
He raised a thin eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Are you scared?”
Keith scowled. “Of course not!” But his protest came out weak, especially since Kam had seen him jump a little at hearing his voice.
No matter, Keith brushed past his brother angrily and plowed ahead.
Sometimes he wanted to wale on the prick and nearly did so. But every time, something stopped Keith. It was as if he was receiving a warning from inside him, saying that it was bad luck to strike a face identical to your own; that nothing good would come of it. But, still!
When Kam opened his mouth, something blunt and neutral would surely come out. Normally, this wouldn’t cause one offense, but it did to Keith. It was because, even with his normal speech, free of suspicion to strangers, it seemed as though his twin was faintly implying that he was stupid, that he was unimportant, that he was so childish that it was embarrassing to be seen with him. Despite, Keith actually being the older of the two.
This kept Keith so occupied that when the path they’d been walking on, having to bend ever so slightly even with their 8 year old bodies, opened up, he was steaming and didn’t notice.
That is, until the toe of his shoe caught on something and he tipped forward.
“Wah!” Keith just managed to catch himself, but as he opened his eyes that had squeezed shut in bracing for impact, a dim light shone on what was in front of him.
“Ack!”
He scrambled backward, breathing hard at what had given him quite a fright. Then, he heard the soft laughter and turned around to glare at Kam. Who was holding a small flashlight that pointed straight ahead and trying to muffle his amusement.
“Damn it, Kam! Whatcha you do that for?”
His brother abruptly stopped laughing. “I wasn’t the one who tripped and nearly ruined everything?”
“Ruined everything? What are you talking about…?”
Kam pointed and Keith’s gaze followed. To the glassy eyes of porcelain doll with curled hair that had startled him and past that to shelf upon shelf holding a wide assortment of toys from aeroplanes to dollhouses. They continued along the entire side of the wall of the tiny room past the door they had entered and around the corners to cover all the walls.
Keith had to suppress a shudder as he stared, wide-eyed at the odd assortment of playthings. It wasn’t the toys so much that bothered him, but the nature of the objects and the very room. First of all, there was not one toy that wasn’t covered in a fine layer of dust. They were in various stages of neglect, a teddy bear with the stuffing sticking out and the same porcelain doll, with a closer look, had spider webs spun into her curls.
And from each and every one of them, Keith sensed a mournful air, as if they knew of something that he did not or of something to come…
He brushed off his trousers right then and walked briskly back the way they had come, completely ignoring the odd, questioning look Kam was giving him. The boy continued in that way up to when they finally exited the secret room and passageway, the musty smell of the attic replacing the scent of mothballs behind the door.
“Keith! Kam!”
Both boys started when they heard their father’s voice coming from below, before gathering the wits to close the door and hurry down to welcome him home from a long day’s work.
* * *
The next day the discovery of the secret room in the attic filled with its collection of toys had all but disappeared from the twins’ minds amidst the hustle and bustle of Christmas.
Their excited voices rose through the chilly air as they piled into the backseat of the car. No child could resist the magic of Christmas, and even the calmer of them, Kam was exclaiming loudly about the pleasures to come, his cheeks flushed red from the cold.
For several days, their parents had planned taking them out to see the sights of their new town decked out in holiday cheer. As soon as they had settled in more and the boxes were becoming scanter, they finally gave in to the twins’ pleas and set off for the plaza where most of the shops were located.
Merely passing the light poles decorated with wreaths, elicited sharp intakes of breath. Keith was particularly high-spirited on this day.
“Ah! Look horses pulling a sleigh! Oh! And carolers right there! We must be getting close, right?”
“It’s not like Christmas is going anywhere, Keith,” his brother muttered as he stared out the window a slight smile on his lips.
Keith shrugged. “It’s still fun and I know just what I want too…”
Resigning himself to his brother’s rambling, he hunkered down to listen none too attentively to the wish list he railed off. And it was long too.
Their mum and dad had been listening as well, though and they chuckled just a tad nervously.
“Ah, Keith…” their mother started, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye. “You have big dreams… but I hope you know Santa won’t be able to get you everything you want.”
There was a pause in Keith’s rapid talking as he considered this. A familiar pout began to form on his full lips. “But you and dad can get the other things, right Mum?”
“That’s not how it works, son,” their father intoned lightly, but with just a touch of irritation worming its way in.
“Wha-?!” Keith’s eyes grew as big as saucers. “But I want everything!”
Their mother turned in her seat to give Keith a smile. “You don’t get everything you want honey, but I’m sure you’ll get some nice things-“
Unfortunately, Keith only seemed to hear the first part.
“That’s not fair!” he wailed and Kam was sure that his brother would stomp his foot if they weren’t currently in the car. But, perhaps he would anyway…
“Keith! You are not allowed to speak to your mother that way! Nor are you going to get any presents for Christmas if you continue behaving in this way!”
Kam and Keith both froze and Keith didn’t utter another word during the rest of the drive. Their father was usually a very mild-mannered man and he hardly ever got angry with the boys, so when his temper did break… they knew his punishments would be followed upon.
Arriving at the plaza, with its giant, marvelously decorated tree in the very center and the Christmas spirit everywhere he glanced, eased the family back into a light-hearted mood.
Yet, the mood only lasted for so long and extended so far for Keith.
Though, window shopping wasn’t as fun as real shopping where you actually purchased what you were looking at, it was still mesmerizing to look at all the displays, especially for one young, blonde boy whose hands were on the glass and a dreaminess to his features.
Whirling scenery of winter wonderland, soaring stacks of Christmas sweets and endless ensembles of toys greeted his wondering gaze and he often stopped as his family went ahead to see something new. It was during one such time, that Keith was startled out of his gumdrop fantasies.
The oversized toy soldier in front of him was back to normal and the bear’s head turned back to its original position. It had just been his imagination. Nothing had moved, it was impossible for toys to move on their own.
Shaking his head, Keith hurried to catch up with his family.
However, the entire time they spent in the plaza he couldn’t shake the feeling that the toys were staring at him; watching him as one would to make sure someone behaves accordingly. Yet, every time he swiped his head around to catch their eyes following him or their immobile bodies moving they were the same as they were before.
Toys, they were just toys, childhood playthings that couldn’t move on their own.
Had they learned their lesson the first time he’d caught them?
The thought sent chills down Keith’s spine much like the feeling of the room of toys in their attic. Finally he could stand it no more and walked faster so that he right beside his brother.
“Kam.”
No reply.
“Kam?”
This time he got a bored glance.
“Kam!”
Their parents turned and his brother relented.
“What is it?” he hissed, obviously having been disturbed by his oh-so-important thoughts.
Keith looked around to make no one was listening and ducked his head low. “Have you noticed anything strange about the shop windows?”
Curiosity appeared briefly in Kam’s eyes. “Like what?”
He dropped his voice to a whisper.
“Like the toys staring at you.”
There was a silence where Kam said nothing for several seconds and when he did it was decidedly unhelpful.
“Are you mad?”
“Did you see them or not?” Keith hissed.
His brother blinked as though he’d been sprinkled with frigid water.
“No.”
Keith slumped forward and lapsed into silence for the remainder of their outing.
* * *
Was he mad? Keith found himself repeating Kam’s question not only immediately after the incident at the plaza, but for days afterward.
His answer if it had not been applying to his own sanity would’ve been a definite yes.
Hearing voices probably qualified as being unhinged.
It began the night they returned and Keith was having trouble falling asleep. He would toss and turn, incapable of ridding his mind of unwelcome thoughts. He was moderately surprised that he didn’t wake his brother, as they shared a room- a twin bed on each side with a lamp in between.
The voices weren’t loud. They were whispery, spidery things, speaking in murmurs that he neither understood nor wanted to understand. But, he understood that he was the only one who could hear them and so Keith spent many sleepless nights with the covered pulled over his head, knowing no one would believe him.
Then, miraculously, three days before Christmas, they stopped.
And though, one would think Keith would be grateful and spend the nights after in blissful rest, they would be wrong. For, his muscles trembled at every little sound and his mind screamed out that those shadows must be the owners of those suddenly silenced voices.
Keith would wake up in the morning with bloodshot eyes and dark circles that announced he had not slept a wink. His parents worried and fussed, proclaiming he needed to eat better meals and go to sleep earlier. His twin brother, usually so reserved, offered to read him a story before bed and often watched him with justifiable concern.
Then, the time came. Christmas Eve, the most awaited evening of the year for all the children of the world who celebrated it and of which Keith would normally be a joyful part of.
If only he wasn’t so haunted.
But, he had tried to heed his family’s advice and as he climbed into bed that night, his cheeks were a little less pale and his movements a little less weary. For tomorrow would be glorious, and his paranoia would not diminish his love for this holiday, not even if he was right in being so cautious.
Keith had barely drifted into the realm of dreams when he heard them. The voices. They were back and they were louder than ever. Even covering his head with the blankets, pulling a pillow over his ears and plugging them with his fingers wouldn’t block the incessant murmuring.
And now, it wasn’t just murmuring.
He caught snatches of words among the indistinguishable nonsense.
“Help us…. Please… Keith…”
The order would be jumbled around, but he continued to hear those words beating into his eardrums. His name, how did they know his name? And who were they?
Finally, the blonde boy could take it no longer, rolled over and let his feet touch the cold floorboards. He needed help. He didn’t care if his mum, dad, or Kam didn’t believe his tale, as long as they could be there with him.
He shuffled over to Kam’s bed, not wishing to startle him. But, as he reached the bed he saw that the covers were thrown back and the sheets were cold. Kam wasn’t there and he hadn’t been for a while.
His breath caught in his throat right then and he forced himself to take several deep breaths before turning and running as fast as he could.
Keith didn’t know where he was going, only that his heart was thumping madly in his chest and the sound of his feet on wood echoed in the empty hallways of the house. When he came to a breathless halt, an unimpressive white door with a wooden handle squatted before him, somehow smaller than the last time, but no less terrifying.
Somehow, his reckless flight had taken him here. Back to the place he never wanted to return and the place that, he abruptly realized, the voices were coming from.
He didn’t hesitate as he flung open the door and bent over raced down the passage, clutching a flashlight he kept on the table beside his bed, just in case. Its light was meager compared to the oppressive darkness, but at least it was something.
Yet, even that tiny hope was shot into pieces as a pain pierced both his wrists and he tumbled to the floor. Keith immediately struggled to get back up and searched desperately for his flashlight.
There! It lay mere feet from him, the light flickering alarmingly, but holding on tenaciously. He lifted his hand to reach for it when a bolt of pain shot through his wrist.
Wincing, he glanced at what bound him and saw two wooden nails, one in each wrist and tied to those nails were thin pieces of white string, nearly invisible. He followed the line of the string to where it vanished into the darkness his flashlight could not penetrate.
From which, eerie laughter twisted and curled, making Keith’s hair stand on end and going on and on and on. Though the agony of the nails made him whimper, Keith tugged at them, trying to pry them from his flesh. But they were impaled deep.
The laughter began to quiet into chuckles and something stirred among the shelves of toys.
Those accursed toys that had transformed from mournful into figures of the utmost despair; mouths were open, eyes were trained wide and unblinking on him, glass hands gestured wildly, all pleading.
Their voices were the ones he had heard and now they were desperately loud. So loud, that Keith felt the warm trickle of blood coming from his ears.
“Keith!”
“Danger!”
“Please!”
“Run!”
“Hurry!”
“All will be lost!”
Keith struggled against his bounds again, a burst of adrenaline allowing him to pry one nail free, but as he set to work on the second… a monstrosity appeared.
It was a thing of nightmares. A twisted vision of the court jesters that entertained the kings of old with a frilly shirt, puffy pants, white tights and black, buckled shoes. The traditional outfit was splattered with colors of bright crimson, dark purple and a green almost akin to black. But the worst part was its face, grotesque and deformed with a wide forehead, pointed chin, bulging eyes without pupils and a red painted mouth from which the chilling laughter still came. The creature’s face was painted with white make-up and blue diamonds over the eyes. Its jester’s hat was lopsided and the bells at the ends jingled as he slowly approached Keith.
“Caught another one did we? Now won’t the master be pleased.”
The boy all but forgot his struggles to escape when the deformed jester spoke- its voice high and darkly amused. He felt the shadow of hopelessness pass over him.
“The Jester needs new faces for his collection yes? My darlings, you are in need of repair, but we desire the very best. The very greediest,” the creature cackled as it continued speaking, whether to Keith or itself, or, he was beginning to think, the toys watching the scene fearfully.
Slowly, the creature was inching closer to him, and its left arm gradually rose.
Thok!
“AHHHHH!”
The agony was even worse than before as the Jester, or whatever it was called, drove another wooden nail into the wrist Keith had removed the last from, and, if that wasn’t enough torture for the young boy it hammered them in so far they pierced the ground. Keith was effectively rendered immobile with no means of escape and the toys seemed to realize this as their screams turned into moans.
As the Jester hummed to itself, pulling more threads like the ones attached to the nails out of his sleeves, Keith worked up the courage to speak.
“What are you? What are you doing?” he demanded, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
The creature tilted its head so its chin was on top and its eyes were on bottom impossibly. “Jester is nothing and everything. Doing the job we do best, the best toys from the worst boys and girls.”
Keith choked on the insults he had been planning to hurl at the thing. What was it talking about? Toys? It made toys? These toys? He glanced anxiously at the groaning specimens.
Toys did not move and speak as if they were alive.
He was staring at the strange toys, anything but the Jester when a new figure stepped into view in the flickering light.
A familiar figure and an identical face that made Keith gasp.
“Kam! What are you doing here? Are you okay? Kam!”
Yet, his twin brother, dressed in nothing but his pajamas like Keith, only looked straight ahead, eyes blank and emotionless, going right through him.
“Kam!” with his brother still not responding, Keith jumped to a conclusion and turned to look at the Jester who was humming jauntily.
“You! What did you do to my brother?” he cried, tears beginning to run down his cheeks.
The Jester turned his head upside down again. “Brother? What brother?”
Keith growled through clenched teeth, propelling all his terror, fury and hatred at the blasted creature with the primal sound.
It laughed.
The boy swore he heard something snap in his head and body when it laughed. Then, it was scooted so it was right next to Kam and grabbed his arm as one might a stuffed animal’s.
“This is your brother?” The Jester didn’t wait for an answer and instead lifted Kam’s arm and stared at Keith with its pupil less eyes. “This isn’t your brother anymore.” He dropped the arm and it went limp, flopping back down like a lifeless fish.
“Yes, he is! Kam! KAM!” Keith tried again even louder. “What did you do to him?!”
“Me?” It pointed to itself. “I did nothing.”
“You-“
“He sold his soul to me.”
Keith’s eyes bugged and he almost swallowed his tongue.
“You’re lying!”
The Jester’s grin spread wider, showing sharp, pointed teeth. “No~! He wanted this to happen and became my puppet to get to you.” The teeth glinted menacingly. “He didn’t like you very much.”
“What?! You lunatic! Let him go! Let me GO!”
He struggled again and it seemed to provide more amusement for the Jester. In one deliberate movement, he took his hand and pushed Kam forward.
As he fell, Keith could do nothing and as he fell the Jester suggested, “Why don’t you take a look-see?”
He did, though he desperately wanted to look away as Kam made a clattering sound as he hit the ground. When Keith looked into his brother’s face, all he saw was a wooden doll, a puppet with familiar, but dead features.
Keith couldn’t tear his eyes away, couldn’t stop himself from trying to reach out to his twin brother and a wordless sound of despair and sorrow clawed its way up his throat.
“Kam…Kam… Kam… Kam!”
Cheerful laughter contrasted starkly with his grief and the Jester spread out the threads on its fingers, grinning its maniac grin.
“It’s your turn now! Have a merry Christmas!” The creature bore down.
And the clock struck midnight.
