A Christmas Eve to Remember...
The next twisted Bugtime Story where YOU pick how it ends!
Happy Holidays you Bad Bugs! Here is the next twisted Bugtime story that I coughed up after a wicked eggnog hangover… (Remember to read to the bottom to vote on the ending for next week! Lives depend on it this time!)
Santa Claus heaved the scarlet sack of gifts into the chimney.
As usual, it magically contracted and slid down into the hearth below. With a tap to the side of his nose, the jolly Saint Nick himself changed into a blur of color, not unlike the lights on the roof, and flowed down into the home.
Once inside he crept on his tiptoes, filling each stocking with care. For little Cindy, he left candy canes and bubblegum. For Arthur, it was baseball cards and chocolate oranges. For the parents, Bill and Suzy, he left some lottery scratch-its. Next, he moved to the tree: a gorgeous fir that twinkled with black and orange lights.
“Black and orange,” he thought. “This isn’t Halloween, you morons.”
Now slightly less jolly, Santa sat down his gift sack and went about tossing the larger gifts under the tree. No doubt Bill and Suzy would take credit for his gifts, as all parents did, and the magic of Christmas would fade a little more this year. He shrugged as he pushed the BB Gun further back under the tree. Maybe this meant he could retire soon—if the elves didn’t revolt first.
When the presents were placed, Santa searched the room for milk and cookies. He took a few bites of the stale cookies and dumped the souring milk into the fireplace. The quiet rustling sound of velvet drew his attention, and he spun back around. Perhaps Cindy or Arthur was coming down the stairs? To his relief, no child appeared. The sack of gifts seemed to have shifted closer to the tree than he had left it, but he thought little of it.
“I really need to retire,” he whispered.
Then, with another tap to his nose, Santa and the bag of gifts floated back up the chimney. He climbed aboard his sleigh and commanded the reindeer to carry him to the next rooftop. It was about an hour later, when he was feeling around in his bag of gifts, that he found the half-eaten remains of the chihuahua.
“Aww fuck,” Santa said.
Cindy awoke to a light scratching sound, like little claws on the hardwood floor.
“Santa!” she thought.
It had always been her dream to see Santa Claus on Christmas Eve. In years past, she had tried to stay up late enough to see him but had somehow always fallen asleep before he arrived. But this time, she had heard him!
Climbing out of bed and crawling to her door on all fours like a cat, she gently pushed her door open and made her way to the stairs. Creeping down as quietly as she was able, she debated stopping to wake Arthur to prove to him that he was wrong about Santa.
“No,” she thought. “I don’t want to miss my chance.”
When she reached the bottom of the steps, the black and orange lights of the tree flickered in greeting from around the corner, and the smell of the tree was mixed with the smell of old pennies. Taking a deep breath, Cindy slid around the corner to greet Santa.
Instead of a large man in a red coat, Cindy saw a pale figure the size of a child with its back to her. The pale figure was dressed in red and green clothes and wore the cutest little pointed hat that she had ever seen. Surely this was an elf!
“Is Santa with you?” she asked.
The elf turned to look at her. Its eyes burned like black coal. Blood covered its hands and face. And worst of all, the still-twitching gray fluffy leg of her cat Mittens was hanging from its mouth. Cindy screamed and tried to run back up the stairs to the safety of her parents. The elf snared her and lunged, claws swinging wildly.
“On Dasher, on Dancer, on Donner, on—“ Santa began, “Jesus Suffering Christ, just hurry!”
Retracing his steps from the previous hour, Saint Nick hurried to find the house where the rabid elf had escaped. A dead dog he could handle—Christmas puppies were easy enough to come by—but if that elf was left alone for too long it could slaughter an entire family.
He checked the Tener house, and they were fine. Next were the Romeros, and they were fine too (though he thought there had been a cat there previously…) Then the Wilkes, the Pells, the Roses, the Dunfords, the MacLeods and the Bowkers, all free of any sign that an elf had been there. Santa shuddered at the thought of what he would find inside the unfortunate home that now had one of his “little helpers” inside. His mind wandered back to how he had found Mrs. Claus the first year he truly noticed the Christmas spirit starting to fade…
There were only a few houses to go, and he needed to hurry! The dog had belonged to the Calhouns, which meant he had to be close. He would check there next.
“Jiminy Christmas, let me be close,” he whispered.
Bill sat up and rubbed his eyes. He thought he had heard a scream or something from downstairs. He looked at the clock and saw that it was close to three in the morning on Christmas. He supposed that he might as well check it out, take a leak, and put his kids’ Santa gifts out before crawling back into bed. He looked over at his still-snoring wife and smiled. She could sleep through a massacre.
Bill slid into his slippers and walked down the hall toward his kids’ rooms. Cindy’s door hung ajar for some reason—maybe that silly girl had snuck downstairs to try to catch a peek at Santa again? Bill continued on and down the stairs into the living room. What he saw next stopped him dead in his tracks.
Cindy lay on the floor in a pool of blood, with some green and red creature ripping out her intestines. Bill resisted the urge to vomit, instead charging blindly through tears at the thing that was eating his daughter. It looked up at him and hissed just as he kicked it into the tree. Gingerly picking up the body of his daughter, he retreated to the stairs where he finally began to scream.
“Suzy! Help me—oh Jesus—Suzanne! Help! Call 9-1-1!” He shouted.
Santa floated out of the chimney at the Salviejo house and jumped back into the sleigh. There were only two houses left: the Kelly family and the Lentz family. He knew that with the amount of time he had already wasted, the elf had likely caused irreparable damage. If he chose the wrong house now, it could mean that he would be too late.
As the sleigh lifted into the air, Santa stared at the twinkling lights of the final two homes: one was likely quiet and serene, while the other would be hosting a bloodbath. Which was which? He hesitated before barking out his command to the reindeer.
Tune in next week to read the conclusion!
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That’s it for this week! We hope you have a happy holidays!
Bugs and Kisses from Kris and the Bad Bug Family!
Looking forward to the next chapter!
Awesome!