Curse of Christmas: A Collection of Paranormal Holiday Stories

by Thea Atkinson

  Okay, I was rambling now, but I had never tried to coax a spirit out before. It was always about waiting for them to come to me.

  With so many things on my plate as it was, I’d rather just get it over with. Call it a day in the Medium department.

  Striding around the center island and dough raising racks, another shiver snaked up my spine. I whipped around but, again, saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  I sighed. So much for trying to speed this up. Looked like I was on the spirit’s time. As usual.

  How did my grandmother deal with this so easily? Growing up, she never seemed bothered by her gift. I barely ever saw her even communicating with spirits. It was something she did in private. I had no idea how she was able to keep them away until she deemed it was their time. And unfortunately, she died before she could share that secret with me.

  While I waited for this shy soul to come out, I might as well get started on my to-do list.

  Wiping my hands on my apron, I took one step forward, suddenly glancing up, and was stopped dead in my tracks at the sight before me. There, right above Zach’s crib, was floating wisps of black smoke. Or maybe not smoke. I wasn’t quite sure what it was. The way the ends stretched out, slightly transparent, but floating in slow motion, as if they were being manipulated by a breeze, was majestic and slightly unsettling to look at. It was densely black at the center, reminding me of bunched up tulle or another kind of fabric drifting in moving water.

  It was…entrancing. I’d never seen anything like it before.

  I stared at the thing for a while, wondering what it really could be. The goosebumps covering my arms told me this was, in fact, a spirit, but it certainly wasn’t like any other spirit I’d ever seen. And I’d seen my fair share over the years.

  There was no human shape to it; no recognizable features at all. Just a black, smoke-like handkerchief in the wind.

  Despite its almost serene appearance and nonaggressive floating, uneasiness skated through me. I didn’t like how close it was to Zach—friendly spirit or not. I didn’t trust many living people with my baby as it was. I wasn’t about to trust something nonliving like that.

  I shifted two steps to the left, hoping the spirit would follow my movements, but it remained in place, still over Zach.

  My anxiety spiked. Maybe I needed to try speaking to it again. It had worked the first time—I think.

  Couldn’t hurt, right?

  “Hi there. My name’s Kay. I’m sure you’re wondering how I can see you right now. Possibly even where you are…”

  The spirit’s tendrils twisted and darkened as if reacting to my words. I wondered if it was trying to communicate with me somehow, only in a way I couldn’t understand.

  I kept going. “I’m a Medium, meaning I can see spirits, like you. You’re here in the living world. You must have stumbled through one of the openings in the veil by accident. If you’re looking to—”

  There was a loud, guttural noise, like the deep blare of a freight train’s horn—powerful enough to rip through you and make your bones rattle. In the next instance, the black form doubled in size and flew at me.

  With my arms up to shield myself, I stumbled backward, colliding with a cooling rack and toppling over with it. As I landed half on the floor and half on the metal, pain ricocheted through my hips and backside. But everything stopped when Zach’s terrified screams pierced my ears.

  Chapter 3

  Terror stole the scream from my lungs. Scrambling to my feet, I found Zach’s pack-and-play crib turned over, and him on the floor, tangled in the blankets that were supposed to be lining the mattress. Frantic, I rushed over, scooped him up, and peeled the fabric away. He continued to wail as I examined his face and head, and ran my hand over everywhere else to check for anything broken.

  Nothing that I could tell, thank God. He’d just been spooked badly, like me.

  Chills ran rampant across my skin, and holding Zach close, I spun around. My heart hammered against my ribs, and nausea spun in my stomach as fear seized me. The transparent black spirit hovered in the far corner of the kitchen, watching us. Even more horrifying? It was growing larger again, building up its strength for another attack.

  Zach’s crib hadn’t tilted over on its own, and that meant…

  A spirit that could touch things in the living world? I’d never heard or seen such a thing. Grandma had never mentioned anything like that either.

  One thing was for sure, whatever this thing was, it wanted to hurt us.

  As if it had read my thoughts, the black billowing mass flew at us again, its tendrils outstretched. I ducked just as it flew over, but its tentacles snagged my hair and wrenched me backward. I was dragged across the tile floor, the pain in my head breathtaking. In my arms, Zach continued to cry.

  The spirit let go, and I slammed into a worktable. Pots, pans, and trays tumbled from their hooks, and I curled my body around Zach to shield him as they rained down. When I heard the familiar swish and felt the pressure of something sliding across my shoulders, I knew one of my bags of ingredients had fallen over, too.

  When the ruckus stopped, I lifted my head and saw that both me and Zach were coated in white powder. Flour.

  I struggled to stand again. My legs wobbled, but I straightened them. The spirit was back in its same spot, the dense middle pulsing as it grew larger. Definitely gathering energy from somewhere and readying for its next attack.

  My gaze swung right, toward the backdoor leading to the alley behind the store, and contemplated making a run for it while it was immobile. I didn’t fight evil. That wasn’t who I was.

  Remembering my grandmother’s rosary around my neck, I clutched the cross at the end. Did I call on the guardian angel, Elijah, for help, like he had told me to do if something went wrong?

  “Kay?” Laurence’s voice came from the front of the shop. I could hear his footsteps getting closer to the curtain that separated it from the back kitchen. Immediately, relief flooded me, just knowing he was close, but it was quickly replaced by dread at the sight of the black mass gliding toward the doorway.

  Pulling the curtain back, he stepped through, holding two take out boxes in his one hand and a bouquet of white lilies and roses in the other. “Surprise! I thought Zach would be sleeping by now, so I brought us lunch. Figured you’d like some company. Cuban sandwiches and spicy sausage soup. Your favorite.” He held out the gifts with his normal shy smile.

  When he saw me—really saw me for the first time since coming in, covered in flour and clutching a crying Zach—his face fell. “Kay? What’s—”

  Without saying a word, I hurried across the kitchen, snatched him by the arm, and tugged him back toward the exit door. The lunch boxes fell out of his hand, soup, bread, and all spilling all over the floor. In any other circumstance, I would have gushed at his surprise visit and gifts. Laurence really was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, even more attentive and romantic after little Zachary was born, but right now, I couldn’t think about anything but the evil spirit so close to him, preparing for another strike.

  Before I could push him out the exit, he planted his feet, stopping. “What’s going on?” he half-yelled over Zach’s screams.

  I didn’t have time to answer fully. Only a strangled cry escaped as I watched the spirit behind him lunge again, coming right for us. Seeing my panic, he turned, just as one of the see-through tendrils whipped out, slicing through the bouquet in one swift motion. Petals flew, and he dropped the decapitated flowers as if they were suddenly made of acid.

  Gliding through the air, the spirit circled toward us again, and my stomach dropped. “Laurence!” I yelled.

  He swung his arms so fast, and right as the spirit was about to crash into us, it hit into something invisible and solid between us before falling on the floor, motionless, like a clump of dirty laundry.

  Magic. He’d used some kind of blocking spell.

  Laurence stepped back, forcing me closer to the door. “What was that?” he whispered o
ver his shoulder, never taking his eyes off it.

  “I think it’s a spirit,” I replied, voice still shaky from the whole ordeal.

  “Not a very nice one.”

  No. Not at all.

  As I bounced Zach in my arms, trying to soothe him, I realized something important. “Wait…you can see it, too?”

  “The weird balled-up wad of black silk that almost sliced off my head a second ago? Yeah. I can see it.”

  That was strange. If Laurence could see it, then maybe it wasn’t a spirit, like I had originally thought.

  He leaned closer to it cautiously. “Reminds me of a mini dementor or something.”

  Harry Potter reference. Since I hadn’t had time to read the books, he’d made me watch the movies with him and had done so at least a dozen times. Dementors were these black-cloaked like figures that sucked the souls out of their victims, if I remembered correctly.

  I could see the connection.

  “It just turned up and attacked us,” I explained and peered down at Zach. He had finally settled and was staring up at me with his flour-covered fingers in his mouth. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “A spirit that I can see and can touch things on this side of the veil? It’s nothing like I’ve seen either.”

  Suddenly, the fabric-spirit quaked and rose an inch off the ground. Laurence’s arms went up again, ready to throw another spell, but the thing slunk across the room to the wall and twisted its form through the slats of the air vent, disappearing.

  We stood there in stunned silence for a long moment. Waiting. Just in case it decided to come back. When there was no sign of the black tendrils, I pushed out all the held breath in my lungs. My muscles ached from being tensed during the ambush.

  Was this what scared stiff felt like? Between the bruises I surely had on my lower half and the throbbing in my head from my hair being pulled, I hurt all over.

  Laurence looked at our baby. “How is he? He didn’t get hurt, did he?”

  “He’s fine, thank goodness. Just scared,” I said.

  “I don’t blame him.”

  “Me neither.” I glanced at the vent where the thing had disappeared. The chills were gone, but my body continued to tremble from lingering fear. “Maybe we should get out of here for a while.”

  Laurence nodded, then spotted the ruined food scattered all over the floor and frowned. “We could get lunch?”

  “I’m sorry your surprise didn’t go as planned. But I appreciate it.” Stepping over the crumpled flowers, I plucked my and Zach’s coats from the hooks near the door. “It was really thoughtful. And the flowers were gorgeous.” I wrapped the baby up the best I could and locked the backdoor’s deadbolt.

  “That’s what I get for trying to be spontaneous,” he grumbled.

  I placed a hand on his cheek and dipped my head to catch his gaze. “Hey,” I began, my tone gentle, “you are my hero. You came just in time and saved us both.”

  That got a warm smile out of him. After he scooped a bundled up Zach from my arms, we walked into the front of the store. I was relieved to see the place was still empty.

  As I flipped the open sign to close, the phone rang.

  “Let the machine get it,” I said to Laurence and shrugged on my winter coat. I was almost positive it was just another Christmas order coming in. “I’m off the clock right now.”

  We walked out, and I locked the door behind us. The temperature outside was so biting, it stunned you for a second. Especially after coming out of the comfort and warmth of the store.

  Laurence hurried to his car, which was double-parked by the curb, and started getting Zach into his car seat. Pausing on the sidewalk, I took one last look at the shop’s tall windows. I didn’t know how I would be able to eat anything after being ambushed in my shop for the second time.

  For some reason, all the feelings I’d experienced after the incident with Xaver came rushing back. The debilitating anxiety, the need to look over my shoulder all the time, heart-pounding What-if? thoughts of the situation going different and someone I loved being hurt… From this one moment, I felt like I had taken a step back from all the progress I’d made over the last few months. Because of some intruding spirit, I was lost again.

  “Kay? Are you ready?” Laurence asked.

  I turned and saw him sitting in the driver’s seat of his blue Toyota, window rolled down. I hurried to the passenger side and slid in. “Yeah, but I’m not sure about lunch. Unless you’re hungry, then we can go.”

  “Stomach sour?”

  I nodded.

  “Honestly? I’m right there with you. That was too much excitement for me.”

  I smiled at him, thankful to have found someone who knew me so well.

  “I think we should go to Divine Magic,” he suggested. “We have a better chance of finding out what that dementor thing is by asking Arianna. She may even have something in her shop to repel it, something stronger than my protection spells.”

  He frowned as he threw the car in drive, obviously upset his magic hadn’t been strong enough to shield me from danger. Again. I could almost hear his destructive thoughts in his head. I knew him and the way his brain worked.

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” I told him. “You know spirits are trickier. They don’t react to magic the same way the living does.”

  He nodded, but his sadness lingered on his face as he drove. I don’t know where his self-doubt came from. My guess was from his childhood, but that was a part of Laurence he didn’t like talking about. Even to me. After dating for so long, he still refused to tell me anything about his parents or where he used to live. And when I pressed, all I got was a brushed off statement of, “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You did a really good job with that blocking spell thing you did back there,” I said. “I’ve never seen you do that before.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “A shielding spell,” he corrected. “It’s an upper level one spell Arianna just taught me. She’ll be happy to hear I got it to work.”

  He turned onto Divine Magic’s street. Since it was located in downtown Fairport, like my store, it was a short drive to it. We could have walked if it wasn’t mid-December and we didn’t have a baby to worry about, but since both those things were true, walking this time was out of the question.

  Laurence pulled over in front of the magic shop and parked by a meter. Because of the upcoming holidays, the town had covered all the pay meters to allow shoppers free parking to get their last-minute Christmas gifts.

  We hurried getting the baby out of the car. In the short drive over, he had fallen asleep, so we settled for keeping him in the carrier this time and walked into Divine Magic. At the sound of the bell, twenty-one-year-old Arianna—accomplished level three witch, magical artifact hunter, Laurence’s mentor, and our new babysitter—strolled through the beaded curtain. When she saw us, she paused, brows pinched in confusion.

  “Wait, I’m not supposed to watch Zach today, am I?” she asked. Sporting her usual dark, gothic aesthetic, with heavy eyeliner, tight ripped jeans, and a band t-shirt, she came around the counter to greet us.

  Maybe it wasn’t gothic. Punk? I wasn’t sure what the kids were calling it nowadays.

  “No, we’re here because there was an incident at the shop…” Laurence began. He placed Zach’s carrier on the ground.

  Arianna’s gaze roamed over me. “Yeah, I was going to say you look a little shell-shocked, Kay. What happened?”

  “She was attacked by a spirit,” Laurence answered for me.

  “At least, I assumed it was a spirit,” I added before he could continue. “I got the same feeling I normally get when it appeared, but it could touch me and Laurence could see it, too, so now, I’m not so sure.”

  Arianna leaned against the counter as she took my words in. “A spirit that can manipulate things in the living world?”

  I nodded. “Dragged me across the room by my hair and turned over Zach’s crib.”

 
“And sliced the flowers I got you in half with its little tentacle things. Don’t forget that,” Laurence said.

  “Tentacles?” She rubbed her bottom lip with a black polished nail.

  “It reminded me of the dementors in the Harry Potter books. Have you read them? Black, fabric billowing…but no distinct features to it.”

  “Who hasn’t read them?” she barked a laugh. Laurence looked at me, and I recoiled, knowing exactly what he was getting at. I was one of those people who hadn’t.

  “I’ll get to it,” I grumbled under my breath. I really didn’t want to talk about my nonexistent leisure time right now. I was barely sleeping as it was. “But that’s not why we’re here. Remember?”

  “Yeah, I’m just trying to give Arianna a visual. Think…a floating, violent black handkerchief.”

  Arianna stared at him blankly.

  When she didn’t offer any suggestions right away, Laurence turned to me. “We could always ask Sean over in Smithfield. He’s got to know.”

  “Woah, woah, woah,” she said, glaring his way. “What makes you think I don’t know?”

  Laurence snapped his mouth shut, suddenly looking sickly. He was regretting his words.

  “Do you know?” I pressed to try and get some of the pressure off of him. “It’d really help us out if you did. I’ve experienced many spirits in my life, and I’ve never seen anything like this one. I’m not even sure it is a spirit.”

  “It is,” she replied shortly. “It sounds like a poltergeist.”

  “Poltergeist? Like the movie?” Laurence asked.

  Arianna rolled her eyes. “Where do you think the ideas from books and movies come from?” she asked. “The general idea is the same. They can make contact with our side of the veil and cause quite a ruckus, but a real poltergeist is much more dangerous than the ones in the movies. And here’s why.” She paused for dramatic effect, eyes flickering between us. “They were once living people.”