As you place another log into the fireplace, the sound of the crackling fire pulls you back to a better time. Maybe not better days, but a better time. Placing a second stocking on the mantle, a single tear rolls down your cheek, slipping into your mouth—a salty reminder that your beloved couldn’t make it this year.

Another lonely Christmas Eve, you start to think, before the sharp sound of the doorbell shatters your thoughts. You swing the door open, and you can’t believe your eyes. It’s your beloved Spudley—the potato!

Before either of you can speak, you sweep Spudley up and begin spinning.''I thought you missed your plane'' you cry out in happiness.

“...” Spudley replies.

“Wow! I can’t believe you went through all that just to come see me.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night drinking wine, reminiscing, and catching up. As the evening stretches on, you can tell something is on Spudley’s mind, but they won’t say what it is.

“Hey, Spuds, can I ask you something?” you venture.

“..?” Spudley replies.

“No, it’s not that,” you begin to say, but your words are cut off by a breeze so cold it extinguishes the fire.

“..!” Spudley shouts, alarmed.

From the fireplace comes the horrifying sound of choking and gargling. A long, gnarled arm emerges from the shadows, its skin stretched tight over sharp joints, reaching for a hot coal. Another hand follows, pressing into the embers, and the sickening smell of burning flesh fills the room.

A tall, grotesque monstrosity pulls itself out of the chimney, dragging a sack in one hand. It wears a blood-soaked Santa suit, ill-fitted to its unnaturally skinny and towering frame. As it stands upright, its head hits the ceiling with such force that its neck snaps, leaving its head hanging upside down as it stares at you.

Without hesitation, the creature charges toward you.

Pee your pants
Jump out of way