A Christmas Creepypasta: Difference between revisions
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I wanted to call out to him, to tell him to stay right where he was, that these two were strangers, that there was no way to tell what would happen once they knew we were there, but that would have given us both away. It's not like he wouldn't have listened to me either. How many kids out there can't help but trust Santa Claus?
"
At this both Santa and his elf turned to find Chris standing in the middle of the room. Both had this faux expression of surprise that only served to unsettle me further.
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Turning to his elf Santa barked out a command, "Annabelle! It's time! Change him now!"
"No! Pl-please, I-" the elf stammered. "Please don't make
Santa gave her a cruel look of distain and waved his hand towards her in an odd way. I was horrified to see the elf suddenly start clawing frantically at her face, digging her nails into her own skin. She screeched in pain, unable to stop harming herself. Santa waved his hand again, releasing her from her torture. Her face was now covered in scratches and dripping with blood.
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To this day I won't have anything to do with this terrible holiday. I don't decorate. I don't give out gifts. I don't go to parties. I won't even live in a house with a chimney or fireplace. Hell, I even refuse to visit houses with one this time of year. Don't even get me started about the mall or streetcorner Santas; I just keep to my apartment as much as I can. In my paranoia, I really just turn into a cheerless shut-in a month out of the year because I know that somewhere in the world there will be more unlucky children going missing.
I still don't know why I didn't meet the same fate as my brother. Has he never told his captors that I was there too? Could he really keep a secret for that long? Could they
Perhaps what keeps me safe is the fact that I've stayed quiet all these years, never telling anyone what really happened. I can only assume that Chris has done the same. Anyone out there must be wondering why I'd say anything about it now. To be honest, I want to
But most of all I want to know what's become of Chris. It hurts to think what could have happened to him over all these years, and I need to find out. Maybe if I share my story with the world, somebody out there will give me some answers. Maybe there's some way I could help him. I'm willing to take the risk.
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Christmas Eve is coming. Wish me luck.
{{v|reading|s3TxU9S4n5o}}
[[Category:Bad Creepypasta]]▼
[[Category:Holidays]]
[[Category:DIALOGUE!]]
[[Category:Pointless Violence]]
[[Category:Read by MichaelLeroi]]
▲[[Category:Bad Creepypasta]]
[[Category:FOTM]]
{{Comments}}
[[Category:MOTHER OF FUCK THIS PAGE IS LONG LIKE MY PAINIS]]
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