DEAD WINTER: A CRYPTIC Anthology

How the Boogeyman Stole Christmas • Sal

For those of you who don't know me, I'm the boogeyman. At night, I ride a carousel that allows me to visit you in your dreams. I control your nightmares and sometimes, I ask you to ride the carousel with me. Don't piss me off by refusing me – because if you do, I will kill you.

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Christmas is my favorite time of the year. Giving people nightmares is always fun, but visiting the dreams of children who eagerly close their eyes in the hopes that Christmas morning will arrive sooner is epic. Their tears are like sweet drops of honey. If I get them to start hating Santa on top of that, my mission to thoroughly ruining their Christmas dream is complete.

This year, I decide to take Amilia, my latest disciple, with me. Ever since she started riding the carousel with me a few months ago, she has surprised me with her viciousness. I have rarely met an eight-year-old who is able to hold a grudge the way she does, even for the smallest of things. She loves inflicting pain on those she perceives her enemies and I pity anyone who gets on her bad side.

It's Christmas Eve, just a few minutes before midnight. She runs across the fairgrounds with her pigtails whipping in the wind. The thinness of her nightgown is making me shiver, but she doesn't seem to mind. Her cheeks are flushed with excitement.

"Where are we going tonight?" she asks as she swings herself on the horse next to me.

I smirk when I notice the vicious sparkle in her eyes. "Wherever you want to go, my dear."

A smile lights her face – she likes the answer. "There is this girl in my class..."

I drown out her words, taking a quick peek at the memory instead. I cringe when the girl Karen calls her "stinky horse", making fun of her slight overbite. Since her father died, Amilia has always sucked her thumb to comfort her through her sleep. Teasing her for it was just plain mean.

I crack my knuckles. Ruining Karen's Christmas is definitely not something I will lose any sleep over – pun intended. With a stroke of my palm over my horse's mane, the carousel starts to spin. Amilia giggles next to me as her own horse rolls up and down, sucking us both into a twirl of lights that ends up on the offending girl's doorsteps.

"That's Karen's house," Amilia whispers.

For a second, my eyes scan the sky. The milky moon barely breaks through the gaps in the thick clouds that hover not too far above the ground. The crisp scent of snow stings my nostrils. Some people hope for a white Christmas to get into a festive mood – I like the cold and ice because it adds to the creepiness when I chase my victims in their dreams.

My hand stretches out and Amilia and my fingers intertwine. The heat of her palm feels amazing against my cold skin. For a second, I indulge how her blood pumps through her veins, wondering how it would feel to breathe and be alive. My senses are limited by the confines of my body and just once would I like to experience sensations like laughter and tears.

The house is quiet and dark. Only the living room is covered in the surreal glow emitting from the sparkling lights of the Christmas trees. Karen's parents already piled the presents underneath the thick branches. It appears they considered their daughter a very good girl this year – clueless that she is nothing more than a big bully at heart.

Amilia kneels next to a big box and shakes it. A deep wrinkle cuts across her forehead as she gazes up at me. "I wonder what's inside."

"Well, you gonna have to wait until you see her in school again and mayhap she'll tell you."

"Can't we just open it?"

"I'm afraid not, my dear. That would be interfering with an area outside her dreams which is not allowed."