Insomnia Horror Collection

Old Nick

The Spirit of Christmas has been a staple in the small town of Mammoth Springs, Arkansas for as long as anyone can remember. Struggling through most of the year, a little after Halloween is when Harold and Sue find their magic. The weather is colder and, with it comes that holiday feeling that makes the small town residents' patron the old corner store for last minute décor.

The humble store that occupies a century-old building finds visitors to be plentiful. Sure, you have friends, family and, simple browsers stop in... The problem is no one is there to shop— only to visit. Since a popular big box store has opened up in nearby Thayer, Harold and Sue find it hard to make The Spirit of Christmas able to compete on, not only prices, but also inventory. This makes the small, single-family-owned shop a specialty and novelty store of Christmas relics long past.

Sue finds it hard to force her stubborn husband and co-owner to retire; something they should have done years ago. Harold, however, is a creature of habit and shows great dedication in swearing that,

"Yes, I know Harold, someone is going to remember the good old days and come in looking for what we will have. You remind me daily, love," Sue says as she passes Harold, who is sweeping the front steps clear of leaves.

The couple makes their rounds in the store, prepping to open as always for the several visitors they may get. Harold finishes dusting some glass ornaments from one of the wooden shelves and then proceeds to the back storeroom area to retrieve and stock some tinsel he had bought off of eBay.

"Harold, did you buy more stuff online?" Sue interrogates.

"Well, folks want real tinsel for their trees, Sue. You know how half this stuff gets stuck in the tree and thrown out with it."

Sue shakes her head as she rests her hands on her hips, staring at her husband from behind the register.

"Yes, dear. But, you see, if you keep buying inventory, you have to actually sell something as well. Otherwise we're just losing money."

Harold just rolls his eyes. He knows they should have retired long ago and the days of the store turning a profit have long past. They couldn't afford it, if not for the fact that the couple lives in the attached apartment above the store.

Sue retreats upstairs to put a pot of coffee on. When she returns she finds Harold in front of Old Nick.

"Harold, the coffee is done. Would you stop talking to that old thing and come move the tree stands from the front to aisle seven?"

Harold dismisses his wife as he returns his attention to Old Nick.

"Don't you mind her none, Nick. She just don't understand that we aren't doing this just for money. We are old and our time is short. This is about memories and hoping these folk care enough about 'em to hang on to 'em and pass 'em on. But what I need to do right now is fix your spectacles, don't I?" Harold says as he uses a half-empty tube of super glue to fuse a piece of black plastic to another on a pair of reading glasses.

He places the glasses on the nose of a six foot two, heavyset statue. He wears a faded red coat and pants bound with a thick, black, leather belt. The faded and yellowing white beard that Old Nick wears tells of years long before he was inherited by the old couple. This routine has been in effect for the last twenty-five years that Harold and Sue have run The Spirit of Christmas and today is no exception.

"Harold, every day you talk to Old Nick and every day you get no response. What in the hell do you think will come of this ritual?" Sue presses as she throws a pile of tree skirts behind a group of neatly-stacked nutcrackers of various sizes.