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Title - Seven Thirty: a perfect Christmas eve 709Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh6tzlDfoEL
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Cover:709Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4NX00qz24Y
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Genre - Horror 709Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpYSTZYR8DM
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Themes - dreams, imagination, Christmas, horror, Santa 709Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQCtMTAJhmd
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Penname: Boakye D. Alpha [Alphawrites ]709Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYqtyOw1mdy
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Blurb: Sometimes, the horrors we meet in life are a figment of our own imagination. What happens to the perfectly perfect Christmas eve Nailah planned when her town gets drowned in total darkness - a darkness that is almost absolute and an evil creature looking like Santa appears from a fog that formed on top of her television? What happens to her when she felt her life in danger when the creative attempted to kill her?
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TITLE: Seven Thirty – a perfect Christmas eve.
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"Seven-thirty. That was the perfect time to watch a perfect horror movie in a perfect Christmas eve."
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I said as I pulled up my blue pyjamas and walked over to the TV room paying no attention to the fireworks and constant shouting outside.
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walking past tobby, my pet cat who meowed in agreement to the perfect Christmas eve date I had planned with him, I went straight to switch on the television then a strong wind blew from outside forcing the windows open.
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"Ahhhh…" I groaned, walked over to the window, closed it and walked back to the television.
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Then the wind blew again but this time, stronger. It sent chills down my spine that made me more scared than the angry I wanted to be. Tracing my steps back to the window. As I forced to close it, there was a thump! Then the whole house went black. I couldn't figure out where the sound could have come from considering all the Christmas-ish happening outside in the town square but the blackout? It made things weirder than it was supposed to be.
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I rushed outside to see what could be wrong then, I got a shocker of a lifetime – the whole town had also being drowned in darkness.
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it was a blackness that I couldn't recall seeing before - one that was almost absolute. It was strange the town could experience a power outage when there was no rain, typhoon or anything and worse, on a Christmas eve.
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As I stood out there in the drily-crisp harmattan weather of the night turning the gears of my mind to make sense of everything that was happening, I heard distant voices. Then a light shone brighter and brighter behind me. Up in front of me, the shadow of something or someone, I couldn't exactly make the figure out well, projected on the floor.
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I froze.
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For seconds I thought maybe it was my mind playing games with me. Maybe I had been watching too many horror movies but it looked too real to be any mind game of a sort.
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"Whoever it is, I have a gun!" I said and in what seemed like the slowest motion ever, paralyzed in fear, I turned to face whoever or whatever was there to haunt me.
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"What the - " I cursed as I let out a large amount of air I never knew I was holding up all that time. It was just the television and the movie had started playing.
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Relieved for a second then reality dawning on me later, I got confused with what was happening.
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"But the whole town is in a blackout," I said as I walked closer to the television both curiosity and fear were written all over my face.
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Gradually, heart hustling quicker than expected, unadulterated fear flooding through my veins, I drew nearer to the TV.
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Silent night!
Holy night!
All is calm!
All is bright!
Round yon virgin,
Mother and child!
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A heavily distorted and low-tuned guitar with deep growling vocals and aggressive drumming version of the famous ‘silent night' Christmas carol abruptly roared through the stereo that stood at a far end of the room which sent a large amount of adrenaline in me, my heart raced at a tremendous speed and my lungs shallowly rose and fell. I stood there, my shaky feet refusing to move as I wondered what could be going on.
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The constant purring from tobby didn't make the situation any better. Maybe it had seen something but I couldn't see anything. I had never been a fan of myths and the stories of how cats have heightened senses and eyes that could see ghosts but there, I wanted to believe in all the scary stories I had ever watched and laughed my way through.
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All is calm!
All is bright!
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"Yeah right." I scoffed at the all-is-calm death metallic tune that echoed through the room at the very moment I was literally shitting on myself out of fear.
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I turned around to leave then I heard my name.
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A dark fog floated over the TV which was creating the only light source in the room. It twirled sluggishly as though the dull particles were substantial, streaming like plasma. I could hear the plants stir outside and feathered creatures taking off startled by the vicious swirls of wind and the boisterous snarling that accompanied it. From the fog comes just the stench of the dead at first and it made me hurl all the food I had that day, at that point a solitary match of sparkling eyes that changed from emerald green to peruse with the recurrence of a thumping heart appeared from the fog.
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The figure of a man became clearer to my vision as the black mist vanished gradually. He wore a white fur-trimmed red jacket and pants with a broad-buckled belt, a matching hat and black boots – the exact look of Santa, well, in clothes but not the person.
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His bloodshot eyes twitch uncomfortably, under his un-brushed, jet black hair. Bloody red crossed stitches climb his crooked neck, under his corruptible and perpetual grin. He had in his hand a red sack I guessed was full of goodies until the point that I heard a snarling sound come from it.
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He turned his head slowly to where the stereo stood and the song changed to another death metallic version of the famous ‘Santa Claus is coming to town' carol.
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You better watch out!
You better not cry!
Better not pout!
I'm telling you why!
Santa Claus is comin' to town!
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In my attempt to flee, I stumbled backwards, tripped over the carpet and landed face-down on the floor. Hastily getting up and seeing him standing over me, I screamed with all the strength left in me, my eyes wide with repulsiveness, my mouth unbending and open and my nails digging deeply into the palms of my clench hands.
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I gathered my thoughts back, pushed myself from beneath him and rushed out like an Olympic hero at the start gun; quickening my pace to a full-scale sprint as the carol music from the stereo faded behind me and the ear-piercing laughter of Santa followed me.
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After running for minutes, still finding my way through the darkness that engulfed the town, my long legs broke from beneath me and I collapsed under a tree. I wheezed as my burning lungs gasped for air. My throat felt dry, so uncomfortably dry – the effect of running in the harmattan. I had not caught my breath for long before I could smell him - the stench of death.
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My heart started racing and I knew that night would be my last Christmas Eve.
I tried to move but my legs wouldn't move. He walked over me and pressed his knobbly hands against my throat. His long thin fingers felt like tendrils around my neck. I clawed my fingers at his hands uselessly and tried to pry them away as life left me.
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As I gave up any hope of surviving through the night, the dark sky bit by bit transformed into diminishing dim and the light of stars got drowsily dull. A great many stars in the coal black sky began concealing their brilliance and got gradually disperse, as though somebody was chasing them away. Birds gently flew in the sky and their dulcet dawn chorus was easily audible. The first orange hued rays appeared on the skyline, which went through the clouds and the prodigious sky was easily visible. The sun came out of its abode across the brilliant orange horizon and glimmered in the sky.
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He loosens his grip as the sun continuously shone on us. He turned, looked at the sun, turned back at me and whispered into my ears.
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"Nailah? wake up. Nailah? Wake up!" I heard my name from the distance and felt a strong magnetic force pulled me.
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"Nailah!"
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I wake suddenly, every thought in high definition. My eyes take in every ray of light that penetrated through the windows as my mother walked over to my bed and shouted,
"Merry Christmas lazy bee!"
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I faked a smile as I thought about what the evil-Santa whispered in my ears his voice echoing in my head.
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‘Sometimes, the horrors we meet in life are a figment of our own imagination. Merry Christmas.'
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WRITTEN BY: Boakye D. Alpha [alphawrites]
Wattpad: @let_alpha_write
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