Crazy Claus

Chapter One

I was ...ok... still am afraid of Santa Claus. I'm Twenty-three. Yes, I know. The boogey man is also not real but that doesn't make me any less scared of him. In my mind's eye I could whack the boogey man right off the face of the earth. But Santa? ...there'll be children's hearts littered all over the streets .

My fear of Santa began when I was eight. My dummy head older brother and his friends were watching a Santa Claus movie and like any other eight year old I was excited...until they threw me out. That only enticed me...curiouser and curiouser.

I was too small to watch a movie like that mom said but I had mad ninja skills. I snuck back in. Black Christmas was its name. I watched as that brunette girl was suffocated and by the time by the time the second person was brutally murdered I screamed so loud the neighbors three houses away heard me. I wet myself too.I had nightmares that everyone was Santa. Heard him talking to me in my head. My parents took me to see all kinds of shrinks and eventually I got better. I still fear father Christmas, though, it's not a handicap to me living my life. Christmas time is always a challenge for me.

This Christmas would be my coming out year, I wasn't going to be forced to watch Miracle on 34th Street or sing Christmas carols or leave cookies and milk out for Santa. No, not I. I was going to house sit for my old high school teacher five miles away from all things Christmas-y. Mr. Charles was old money. His house, all ten bedrooms and two miles of open land which we affectionately called The Manor was my holiday destination.

Yep, it was looking up I tell you. I was settled in Christmas Eve. To heck with eggnog, I had coke.

The first tinkles sounded then they became louder and louder, they sounded just like the ones on Santa's sleigh.

My heart rate spikes. Don't get all paranoid Danny. Maybe it's just the wind whistling through the trees.

Ho ho ho!

Ho ho ho!

"no way" I whispered hugging the covers to my chest. It can't be real. I am not hearing him again. The voices stopped a long time ago. They said I won't hear them anymore. A chill runs up my spine and that fear was back. My eyes darting all around the room.

Merry Christmas!

"it's just a dream" I hid under the covers and squeezed my eyes shut. The shakes took over sporadically. Groping under the pillow I switched on the flashlight I always keep there.

"Santa's not real, Santa's not real, Santa's not real" I chanted, my therapist got me in on the secret when I was nine.

"oh yes I am" Santa spoke to me, he hasn't done that in quite a while. I resumed my chants even louder "Santa's not real, Santa's not real, Santa-"

"I am real!" he shouts, a loud thump came from under my bed, like somebody hit the frame. I screamed ripping the covers off I ran for the door but somehow my legs got tangled and I fell. Scrambling back and aiming the light under the bed with shaky limbs. I was breathing hard and the light's beam shook with the full bodied trembles that wracked my being. My teeth chattered, my blood thundered through my veins. I could hear my heart beat, feel the force of it in my chest. My eyes widened with every second that passes me in my statue like state.

"Santa's not real, Santa's not-" I began again on a shaky note, willing the words to be true.

"I am real Danny!" I gasped so hard my throat hurt from the force of it. Tears fill my eyes and all I could do was shake like a leaf in the wind.

I screamed when a black gloved hand shoots out from under the bed and slaps at the floor. And I just kept screaming. Only taking a breath to scream again and again and again. I couldn't move, just watch as the rest of him crawl from below the bed.