Christmas Coffin
Book #1 in my “Holiday Horror” series
By Michelle Lundy
© Copyright 2008
ISBN 978-0-557-03751-3
Prologue:
With his back arched and his chest thrust out in pure pleasure; he licks his lips with a satisfying moan, tasting the last drops of fresh blood from the warm body beneath him. An orgasm of this magnitude always hits him at the peak of this very moment, causing him to want to scream at the top of his lungs in erotic delight. Although, he can’t help but to regret how they all have to die in the end, it’s an aphrodisiac he can’t resist.
“Oh well,” he shrugs off a quick moment of remorse as fast as it had come, “tomorrow is a new day with new women to seduce. Women with tight bodies and hot blood pumping through their veins, I can smell them coming from a mile away.” At the very thought of it, he started to get another erection, but the lifeless body before him wasn’t up for the challenge. “I guess some things never stop working,” he laughed, looking down at his protruding manhood.
Rolling off the bed he stood up and stretched, admiring the woman who was full of life only ten minutes ago. She was lying on her stomach with her face towards him, holding an angelic-like, satisfied expression. She looked as though she would wake up at any moment and beg for more.
“My god, she’s beautiful,” he thought. Her long black hair was wisped away from her face revealing her perfect full lips, lips that he had kissed over and over again until the demon within him took over. Her milky white breasts were small yet perky with pinkish brown nipples that protruded like Christmas gumdrops. He laughed at himself for comparing her to a sweet and delicious holiday treat, yet the comparison seemed more than appropriate for this time of year, and she certainly was delicious. Being that she was a fitness instructor, her waist was very small with rock hard abs. He had enjoyed running his hand down them, lingering at her belly button for a moment, before continuing with a downward caress to her hairless heaven that awaited his every move with warm and wet desire. She was the image of perfection personified. It was a real shame that he would never be able to relive this night with her again. Then the reminiscing moment passed and he was ready to move on to the next.
Looking back at her one last time before he left, he noticed there was a small stain of blood on the sheet below her chin. The blood must have dribbled down from the two incisions on her neck when he couldn’t hold back any longer. Normally he tried not to leave any trace that he was ever there. Aside from the unexplained bite marks on her neck that detectives usually write off as an animal attack, he never left a drop of blood behind. He was getting sloppy, but her jugular had been calling to him in the heat of the moment. Not being able to resist any longer, he kissed her neck tenderly, then savagely sank his teeth into the pulsating vein as he penetrated her from behind. Hot blood instantly poured into his open mouth, some of which drizzled in a small stream down her neck and onto the crisp white sheet. He hungrily lapped up the running blood with his tongue in the most sensual manner, making her toes curl in ecstasy. As the last of her blood was sucked from her body, she slowly faded away, as if going to sleep, never to awaken again.
He woke up with a start, sweating profusely and terrified. His eyes were out of focus and his head was throbbing with the pain of a million jack hammers. The image of the blood stained sheet burned in his minds eye. “Please, don’t let that be true” he cried “that can’t be me, could it? I would never hurt anyone like that, would I?”
When his blurred vision cleared, he was able to see that he was in a strange place with strange people hovering over him. Everything seemed all so confusing. He couldn’t remember how he got there or where he came from. Trying to remember even the smallest detail of his life, he realized that he couldn’t even remember his own name. Dear god, who am I? He prayed. He had no recollection of anything that had happened in his life prior to waking up in this strange place, except for the dream. All he could remember was that horrible dream that frightened the hell out of him, yet somehow excited him at the same time.
Hyperventilating and on the verge of a full blown panic attack, he felt himself slowly slipping away into darkness again. He could hear voices talking to him, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying, except for this one sweet angelic voice that stood out among all the others. “Its okay, Santa’s little helper, we’ll take care of you.” He tried to hang onto that voice with every ounce of energy left in his body, but alas, the struggle for consciousness was lost and the power of the darkness took over once again as he blacked out.
Once again it was Christmas Eve, the Noels favorite time of year. Dion and Tasha were busy in the kitchen preparing a huge holiday feast when they received a mysterious knock at the front door. Little Holly ran in anticipation to see who was there. “Maybe Santa’s come early” she squealed excitedly.
With Mom, Dad and Nick on her heals, she turned the knob and thrust the door open in hopes of seeing the man in red, standing there in the flesh, with a bag full of presents. Instead, no one was there. Her eyes quickly scanned the yard to find nothing more than the bare leafless trees, all the pretty Christmas decorations that she helped her mommy put up, and the beautiful white snow covered lawn, but not a soul was in sight.
Tires squealed down the road and they looked up just in time to see a black Hearse speeding around the corner at the end of their block.
“I wonder what that was all about.” Dad said while wiping the remaining turkey grease from his hands onto the already saturated dish towel.
“I don’t know,” said Nick, “but that Hearse sure was in a hurry. What could they possibly be rushing for? Whoever they’re carting around isn’t in any hurry anymore.” He laughed hysterically until his dad nudged him to stop with a look of disapproval on his face.
Pouting, Holly stomped into the living room and plopped heavily onto the couch with her arms folded across her chest in disappointment.
“Santa won’t come while you’re awake, stupid,” Nick laughed while sticking his tongue at her, but got caught in the process.
“Nick, how many times have I asked you not to pick on your sister? It’s Christmas Eve for goodness sakes,” Mom scolded him. “Since you think you’re such a funny man, then I’ll be laughing the entire time I watch you do the dishes.”
“What? No…” Nick pleaded, but could tell by the look on her face that he wasn’t going to talk himself out of this one. Huffing, he marched off to the kitchen to do the dreaded chore with the echo of Holly’s snickering following close behind him.
Awaiting him in the kitchen was stack after stack of dishes lining all the counter tops and even the table. Every year Mom and Dad cook a huge feast to take to the church for the homeless. Instead of using the kitchen at the church hall, they always insist on cooking at home, leaving us with the mess, of course. Ugh! Why did I have to pick tonight of all nights to get into trouble? He thought to himself as he watched the bubbles rise and pop as the sink was being filled with hot soapy water.
To Nick it had felt like days had passed when he finally finished washing all of the dishes. “At this rate, I’m going to totally miss out on Christmas” he mumbled under his breath. As he finished wiping down the counter tops and the dining room table, his dad walked in.
“It’s good to see you have the Christmas spirit, son. I’m very proud of you for helping your mother out like this. Now, you can take out the trash to help out your dear old dad” he said, chuckling.
“But…” Nick began to argue, but thought better of it. After all, it was Christmas Eve and he couldn’t afford to get himself into anymore trouble or he’d wind up with nothing more than a huge lump of black coal in his stocking tomorrow morning. The thought of Holly giggling and poking fun at him was not something he wanted to endure on a holiday. With a heavy sigh he trudged over to the trash can, pulled the large bag from within it and headed for the front door.
At only five o’clock, it was already dark out. The only light to show the way came from his porch, a dim street lamp on the curb three houses down and the Christmas lights they had used to decorate with on the front lawn. The trash bins were located on the other side of the garage, the side that no light touched. Nick threw the garbage bag over his shoulder, pretending to be Santa with a bag full of gifts. “Ho… Ho… Ho…” he giggled, sticking out his gut and rubbing his not so big belly full of jelly. He kept up the act all the way to garage, but suddenly came to a dead stop.
He never really thought of himself as being afraid of the dark. Looking ahead, at the corner of the garage, the darkness seemed to warn him otherwise. He had taken the trash out many a dark night with no problem, but for some reason tonight was different. He couldn’t get over the strange sensations that something was out there, something blood thirsty and horrifying. Over active imagination from watching too many horror movies, he thought, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling. “Knock it off,” he said to himself as he tried to pry his feet, which felt like a ton of bricks, from the ground and make them move forward. Slowly he made his way to the trash bins and lifted the lid, anticipating the worst. He thought for sure something was going to jump out and attack him, so he threw the bag in and ran as fast as he could back to the sidewalk.
Panting heavily, he stopped when he was safe in the light that shined from the porch lamp in front of his house. He waited for a minute, trying to catch his breath before going in. If Holly saw that he was afraid of the dark he would never hear the end of it. “Big brothers aren’t supposed to be afraid of anything” he told himself. “I will never let her see me like this and give her more to laugh at me about.”
He gathered himself and was about to go in the house when he heard a dog growling and barking as if in pursuit. Startled, he jumped and quickly turned around to see if there was going to be rabid teeth at his heels ready to chew through his pants and spew blood from his ankles. There had been rumors going around the neighborhood about sightings of a rabid dog recently, which terrified him into nightmares after seeing that old horror flick, “Cujo.” Frantically he looked around, shaking his feet and jumping up and down in a rather epileptic looking dance, just in case there really was an angry, mouth foaming dog ready to attack him. Feeling rather silly, he saw that there was nothing there, nothing at all.
Looking back one last time, he climbed the porch steps and was about to turn the doorknob when the barking started again. Nick spun around on his heels so fast that he almost fell down the stairs. This time the barking sounded a little more distant. Squinting to see through the dim lights and darkness, he noticed a dog at the end of his driveway, just below the embankment. The dog did not run up the driveway to chase after him, but instead, stayed at the end of the yard barking and growling. It was circling something that appeared to be sticking up from out of the snow. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like wood, some sort of wood box perhaps, except not shaped like a normal box. “Hmmm… I wonder what in the world that could be and why is it in my yard?” he asked out loud.
He thought about going in to get his dad to go investigate this unusual object with him, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to give Holly something else to call him a chicken about. At fifteen he was almost a man, after all, so he would be a man and go down there to check it out himself.
Before starting his journey to the unknown object at the end of the drive, he had to be sure that he wouldn’t get attacked by the rabid dog. He figured he should go inside and get something to distract it. He snuck into the house, slowly turning the door handle, careful not to make a sound. He slipped his shoes off, knowing he could get by much quieter in his socked feet, and peaked around the corner to see where everyone was. Dad, Holly and Mom were sitting on the couch together watching Holly’s favorite Christmas cartoon, “Disney’s Scrooge.” Nick tiptoed across the hardwood floor leading to the kitchen, ducking behind the coat rack until he was sure he hadn’t been seen. Peaking between Dad’s jacket and Mom’s scarf, he saw that they were still engrossed in TV land. He tiptoed quietly the wrest of the way to the kitchen. Like a ninja, he slid across the floor and grabbed one of the fresh baked rolls from a basket on the counter.
Feeling rather clever, with his ninja like moves and detective like senses, he proceeded to slither and slide, unseen, back the way he came. In a side stance, he slid back across the kitchen floor, not making a sound with the help of his soft cotton socks. Not seeing his mom coming around the corner at the same time, he slid right into her, knocking her off her feet and onto her butt.
“Mom… uh… are you okay?” he stuttered while helping her get up.
“What in the world are you doing?” she laughed. “Why are you hiding that roll behind your back? If you’re hungry, eat something. You don’t have to hide it.”
“Sorry Mom, I just… there’s a poor stray dog… I didn’t want you to get mad…” he stammered on, while his mother stared at him with the kindest smile on her face.
“Absolutely not,” she said.
Shocked, Nick stood there with a look of disappointment on his face. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His mother, of all people, was the type to feed the homeless, volunteer at the animal shelter, and feed the local strays herself. Now on Christmas Eve, the most giving holiday of all, she’s telling me that I can’t give one simple roll to a stray dog? “That’s messed up.”
“What? What’s wrong dear? You look so sad. What is it? Is the dog okay?” she asked, rather concerned. “Should I start the car and take it to the animal hospital?”
Nick stared at her with one eyebrow up in confusion. “No, the dog is fine. I just wanted to give it something to eat. It looks so hungry, Mom.”
“Well, what’s the problem then? I already told you that I would absolutely not mind if you feed the poor dog that nice fresh roll. So what are you waiting for?”
If at all possible, Nick’s eyebrow arched up even further until he laughed out loud, realizing that he had just misunderstood her the first time. “Thanks Mom, I will,” he declared as he ran to the front door, throwing his coat and shoes on and heading back out into the cold.
Running down the porch steps he could hear the dog was still barking its song of aggression. He slowed down to a turtle like pace the closer he got to the object in the snow with the temperamental dog still circling it hysterically. Something about this box sure did get this poor hairy scoundrel in an uproar, which made Nick’s approach all the more cautious.
He had reached as far as the mailbox at the end of the drive when he stopped to way the odds. Should I get any closer at this point and have the chance of being attacked by the possibly rabid dog? Or should I throw the bread as far as I can down the street to divert its attention long enough for me to see what this mysterious box is? While he was trying to figure this all out in his head, he realized that it was suddenly quiet. The dog had stopped barking and was sitting at the end of the driveway just staring at him with frightened eyes, shivering and whimpering. Nick immediately realized, this dog was no threat, he’s just scared. Nick pulled the half smashed roll out of his pocket and slowly crept up to the dog. “It’s okay little guy, I’m not going to hurt you. I bet you’re hungry, here’s a nice roll for you.” He tried to make his words sound as calm as possible, even though his own heart was racing at the speed of light.
The closer he got, he could see that this dog wasn’t a he after all. She was a beautiful black and white long haired collie mix with a gorgeous fluffy tail. Her big brown eyes looked sad, yet terrified and her waist was terribly thin to the point of showing protruding ribs through her thick winter coat. She lay down onto her side as he approached, putting her paws up in the air in an almost playful gesture. “You poor thing,” Nick said as he reached down to stroke her matted head. He held out the roll and she took it instantly with her tail wagging in appreciation.
Nick noticed that the dog wasn’t wearing a collar and assumed she must be a stray. Judging by how skinny she was and how fast she gobbled up the roll, he guessed she hasn’t eaten for quite some time. He could tell by looking at her that she was a very good dog and a smart one at that. Feeling a strong bond growing for his new found friend already, he decided that he would ask his mom if he could keep her. He just couldn’t bear the thought of sending her back out into the cold, not knowing if she would ever eat again or have a warm place to sleep. But first things first, he had to finish what he set out here to do. He would investigate this strange box at the end of his lawn.
“Well, Angel,” he said, not wanting to call her just dog, “here I go. Wish me luck.”
When she saw Nick creeping towards the box, Angel let out a cry, as if trying to warn him of some danger that only she knew about. “It’s ok girl, I’ll be alright.” he tried to reassure her, but she only continued to wine and pace back and forth between the mailbox and driveway. He continued slowly until he was at least two feet away from the box and stopped, suddenly frozen in horror. His eyes widened in disbelief as he realized that it was a box alright, but not just any box, it was a coffin. An old beat up black wooden coffin that looked like something out of a horror movie. Wrapped around it was a fancy red bow that held a large gift tag that simply read, “Merry Christmas.”
You can pick up a copy at Skyemark Gothic Horrors: http://lulu.com/skyemarkgothichorrors.
Or, Christmas Coffin is now available on Amazon.com.
