by Tim Curran
A scraping sound broke their focus and their heads jerked up simultaneously. A nefarious, ragged shape scuttled from beneath the shadows of the bed and raced across the floor towards the door. Jess screamed and pushed herself further up the bed trying to distance herself from the creature. A liquid heaviness settled in Callum’s gut and he felt his cock shrivel like a crisp packet thrown into flames as the shape disappeared through the open door. Muffled chuckling rose up the staircase.
“What the fuck was that?” Callum was already on his feet zipping up his jeans. His fear had been surpassed by a primitive need to protect Jess. He grabbed a heavy decorative candlestick from the hearth and stalked towards the door.
“Wait!” Jess’s demand cut through his impetus and he stopped. “It’s…it’s that child. The one we saw outside.”
“Jess, it can’t be. There was no-.”
“Yes! There was.” She had jumped off the bed and was pulling on her robe again. “He must have ran past you in the snow. I said it felt as though someone had pushed into me. I was watching you and didn’t see him come through the door.” She shrugged. “It makes sense.”
There was an insane logic to her words. Callum’s mind was desperately searching for a rational explanation for what had just happened and he couldn’t think of one more believable than Jess’s. Kids like to hide and where better than under a bed. It was always his favourite hiding place when he was little. His heart rate began to return to normal. Of course she was right. It couldn’t possibly be anything else. It was far too big to be a squirrel or a rat, or any other wild animal that may have crept into the cottage to seek shelter. And yet…it didn’t look like a child, he thought. He’d only caught a glimpse of the creature for a brief second but it looked, no not looked, it felt old. It resembled a very small man dressed in ragged, dirty clothes. He shook his head. Pull yourself together. You’ve had a scare. Probably had too much to drink and it’s been a long day stuck in Christmas traffic on the motorway for hours. He replaced the candle stick. There was no way he could explain to the authorities that he had threatened a child with a blunt instrument.
Jess was already at the door. “Wait!” he called. “Let me go first.” She pulled a face in protest but catching sight of his expression she kept quiet and waited for Callum to take the lead.
The staircase groaned as he took slow careful steps. He could feel Jess’s eagerness almost like a physical force compelling him to go faster but he ignored her silent coercion. Their shadows followed them on the wall beside them until suddenly they were drowned in darkness.
Callum stumbled as Jess squealed and crashed into him. His fingers groped frantically until they latched onto the handrail and he managed to stop his uncontrolled descent into the abyss. The sound of malignant giggles drifted from the darkness, throatier and deeper than any child’s voice he had ever heard. Splinters of ice stabbed at his spine and the hairs on his neck stood proud. “Go back to the bedroom and lock the door,” he hissed.
“But it’s just a child…” Jess’s voice quivered. Her tone implied she was trying to convince herself as much as Callum of the creature’s origin. Nevertheless she took a couple of steps back towards the bedroom.
“It…it didn’t look like a child.” Speaking his thoughts aloud gave life to Callum’s fears. Whatever he had seen scramble across the floor of the bedroom was not a child, although there was a semblance of humanity to it.
“What! What do you mean?” Jess’s voice trembled an octave higher. “What else could it be?”
“I don’t know but I’m going to find out.” It took all of his resolve to sound confident. He didn’t want to alarm Jess any more than she already was. “Please do as I say.” He sensed rather than saw her nod in the darkness but he heard the creak of the stair as she edged away. Knowing Jess was safer in the bedroom he felt a surge of confidence. Whoever the person was, he couldn’t be a match for Callum. The intruder was small, very small, and Callum stood at six-foot two with a body that knew it’s way around a gym. Callum had the upper hand now that the element of surprise was lost.
As soon as he heard the click of the bedroom door, Callum cautiously made his way downstairs, holding his breath so he could hear the slightest sound. A red glow emanated from the sitting room as the dying embers of the fire strived to bring cheer to his trepidation. The wall was rough beneath his fingertips as they explored their way towards the light switch. He flicked it and light filled the room, startling him, and he realised he hadn’t been expecting it to work. His imagination had convinced him there was no power. That he would have to stumble around in the darkness searching for the creature.
A weight lifted from his shoulders and he almost felt himself grow in stature as his confidence returned. Quickly scanning the room he reassured himself there was no one there and he moved towards the kitchen. He flicked the light switch and another room flooded with harsh fluorescence. The stench of sour sweat and stale musk filled the room making his eyes water. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked around. Beneath the kitchen table, in a puddle of shadow, lurked a small hunched figure. Black eyes gleamed from deep sockets and dirty teeth were visible behind a malevolent grin. It was dressed in the strangest of clothes. Soiled red trousers tucked into worn-down, scuffed boots, a dirty, shabby jacket and what looked like an ancient Christmas hat. The point of the hat flopped to one side of his head and there dangled what looked like a rusted bell from its tip.
Callum took a step back before recovering his composure. He held the high ground. This less than a person that lurked beneath the table was no match for him. He crossed his arms and glared at the odorous creature. “I suggest you come out from there right now. I don’t know what sick games you’re playing but if you don’t fuck off out of here this minute, you’ll be leaving in an ambulance.” He was answered with a gurgled chuckle.
“You think you’re so fucking funny but you won’t be laughing when I’ve finished with you.” Callum’s face burned with anger. He stomped towards the table and reached beneath, fingers outstretched in readiness to grab hold of his pathetic adversary. God help him, he was going to tear this piece of shit apart.
A scream ripped the night apart and it took Callum a moment to realise the shrieking came from himself. He staggered backwards into a dresser. China danced and chinked, and a teapot crashed to the floor. Agonising pain pulsed through his hand and he raised it before his face. Blood dripped from the stump of his thumb and flaps of ragged skin revealed the gleam of bone beneath. Dizziness swept over him in a wave weakening his legs. He grabbed hold of the dresser with his other hand to steady himself and more china skittered to the floor. Then he heard something that chilled his blood.
The bedroom door creaked open and soft footsteps padded across the landing. Jess had left her sanctuary and was on her way downstairs. “Callum,” she called.
Her voice sounded distant yet Callum realised she was only moments away from encountering this vicious imp. He battled his shock and ran to stop her, gasping as shards of shattered porcelain buried themselves into the soles of his bare feet. He reached the bottom of the stairs at the same time as Jess. Her face was masked with fear and confusion.
“Get back upstairs!” he yelled. “Now!” He turned her around and pushed her back in the direction she had come from, smearing crimson stripes across her silk robe.
“Callum. What’s happening?” Her head twisted around to look at him and her eyes widened in fear. “W…what’s that?” Fear stiffened her body and the force of Callum’s shoving unbalanced her. She landed on the stairs with a thud and Callum spun to see his attacker emerge from the kitchen.
The figure stretched himself to his full height. He was barely more than three-foot tall, but what he lacked in stature he remedied with muscle. Callum’s view had been obstructed by the kitchen table but now he could clearly see his enemy as he moved like a hunter towards them. Its mouth was stretched into a wide grin displaying pointed teeth stained with Callum’s blood and it
s tiny eyes shone with an evil lust. He must be a dwarf, he thought, but he knew he was miles from the truth. Something buried deep in his mind fought to get out. An echo of a memory swam just out of reach. There was something familiar about the stocky creature that stalked towards him. A scrabbling sound behind him alerted him to Jess’s retreat upstairs and he followed her backwards, one slow step at a time, never taking his eyes off the figure that drew closer. He prayed that Jess would have the initiative to call the police. He had left his phone on the bedside table and it was fully charged.
“Oh Callum,” snorted the creature and, at the sound of the phlegmy voice, Callum stumbled. His hand snaked towards the bannister banging the stump of his thumb against the oak rail.
He screamed with pain and the realisation that this thing knew his name. “Who are you?” Terror tinged his words and he heard Jess emerge once more from the bedroom, alerted by his cries. “Jess! Go back,” he yelled. “Call the police! Now!”
“I tried. There’s no signal.”
“Oh my. You’ve got a pretty one there. Do you deserve her though?”
The lasciviousness in his voice sent a shudder through Callum’s body and he retreated a couple of more steps. “Leave her alone,” he hissed.
“Oh. Leave her alone, he says. Don’t touch her, he says. Leave her pretty little pussy alone, he says.” His hand rubbed against his rapidly swelling crotch.
“I never said-.”
“But you were thinking it Callum. Yes you were.” He was creeping closer to the stairs, his eyes shining gleefully as mischief danced across his face.
Callum’s arse hit one of the steps as he fell backwards. His legs kicked out and he pushed himself further towards the landing. Fear squeezed its grip tight around his chest. Why should he be so afraid of this little man? He’d bested far bigger men than this one, but something crawled beneath his skin at the sight of this malignant imp.
The little man reached the bottom step and started to crawl up towards Callum. He licked his bloodied lips as his smile widened and his greedy little eyes narrowed.
Callum found himself hauled to his feet as Jess’s hands were thrust under his arms and she pulled. Her robe gaped open and her nipples had escaped the tight confines of her basque. Callum noticed but arousal was a million miles away. Don’t let him see them. Don’t let him see them, played on a loop inside his head. Thrusting Jess before him they tumbled into the bedroom. There was only a flimsy lock on the heavy door but he slid the bolt anyway. A chunky chest of drawers stood to the side of the door. Wedging his shoulder against the chest, Callum pushed as hard as he could. The furniture was weightier than he imagined and he thought it wasn’t going to budge but inch by slow inch he manoeuvred it across the doorway. Nothing was getting through.
Jess had pulled her robe closed again. “Who…Who is that. Why does he know you?” There was accusation in her tone.
“I don’t know,” snapped Callum. He looked at his hand. The stump of his thumb was throbbing in time with his heartbeat but at least it seemed to have stopped bleeding. The blood had congealed in a thick, viscous clot. His stomach clenched as he wondered what had become of his thumb. Had it been swallowed? “Did you call the police?”
“I said there’s no-.”
“Pass me the phone.” Jess scrambled across the bed and picked up the phone. Callum snatched it from her trembling fingers.
“Oh my God! Your thumb.” Her face whitened to match the thick blanket of snow outside.
Callum jabbed at the screen and held the phone to his ear. “Fuck!” He tried again.
Jess jumped as the phone smashed into pieces against the wall beside her.
“There’s. No. Fucking. Signal!” Callum paced the floor, his hands gripping the sides of his head. "Why the fuck did we come here, to the middle of nowhere. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Jess ran over and hugged him. “It’s okay. Nothing’s going to get through that door. We can wait it out. We’re safe in here.”
He took a few deep breaths letting Jess’s words soothe his fractured nerves. Maybe she was right and they were safe. He had struggled to move the large cupboard so the little guy wouldn’t stand a chance. He flopped down on the edge of the bed taking Jess with him. She took hold of his hand and inspected his thumb. “How did he…?”
Callum shook his head, “I don’t know. I…I guess he bit it.”
Jess shuddered and nestled in closer to his chest.
Bang!
The door shook and the chest jumped a couple of inches. It’s not possible, he thought. There’s no way he can get through that.
As if to prove him wrong the door was pounded again, the lock snapped and the chest creaked further forward. Long, dirty fingers reached around the door and Jess screamed. Callum startled by Jess’s scream jumped up looking around for something to defend them with. The candlestick. He grabbed it again and waited.
The next assault splintered the door and the chest skidded several feet across the floor gouging furrows in the wooden boards. It’s not possible. The phrase had almost become a prayer to Callum. If he kept thinking it, the words would eventually ring true. They didn’t. The nightmare man stood framed by the doorway and in his hand was the bottle of brandy from the kitchen. Before Callum had time to react the bottle flew through the air and shattered against his temple. The room blurred as blood ran into his eyes and nerves exploded in his skull. The muscles in his legs failed him and he slid to the floor. The candlestick rolled from his grip as he watched the stranger saunter into the room. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Jess screaming.
The grubby figure swaggered towards Jess who had backed herself into a corner, her arms outstretched to ward him off. It was a futile attempt. His hands grabbed her wrists and her shrieks grew as he crushed the bones in his grip. He dragged her towards where Callum slumped bleeding and weakened on the floor. “Let her go,” Callum slurred.
“Let her go,” mimicked the man. “I don’t think so.” He wound the long fingers of one hand around both of Jess’s wrists and she whimpered in pain as her bones crunched. He extended a finger of his free hand and drew a pointed, black fingernail down the front of her basque. The lace fell apart revealing her pale trembling flesh. A crimson line bloomed from between her breasts to her navel following the path where his nail had travelled. Without releasing his grip on the girl, he kicked out sharply, landing a booted foot in Callum’s groin.
Callum shrieked and tears of pain and fear tracked down his cheeks. “W…why are you doing this. Let Jess go. Please.” His hands cupped his aching balls and his knees were drawn up in a belated attempt at self-protection.
“Oh dear, Callum. Do I really have to explain why I’m here? I thought you were smarter than this.”
“I…I don’t understand,” he sobbed. “Who are you and why are you doing this?” Callum’s bloodshot eyes begged for mercy but none was forthcoming.
“My name is Malgath,” came the reply. “But the name won’t mean anything to you, though we have met before.”
“No. You’re wrong. I’d know if I’d met you before.”
“You’ve just forgotten Callum. It’s been a long time. Twenty years in fact.”
“But I would have only been nine then.”
The imp laughed and a dislodged lump of grey phlegm splattered the floor next to Callum. “And what a nasty little nine-year old you were.” To add emphasis to his statement he kicked Jess’s ankle, the crack of splintered bone was briefly audible before being drowned by her scream of agony. She collapsed to the floor and a gash opened on her cheek as he once more dragged a blackened fingernail across her skin.
“I don’t understand-.”
“No. Of course you don’t. You’ve always been too selfish, too mean and too cruel to understand how your actions damage other people. You’re the reason I have to mutilate this pretty little plaything you brought with you.” He plunged a fat thumb deep into Jess’s right eye. It slithered from her socket with a wet plop.
&nbs
p; Jess screamed and convulsed in her torture and Callum tried to crawl towards her. A crunch of shattered teeth halted him in his tracks and pain exploded through his shattered jaw. Through a crimson haze he saw their tormentor absently rub the blood from his boot down the back of his stained trouser leg.
“Still can’t remember can you? That was the year you found your sister’s Christmas presents and smashed every single one. You told her Santa had sent his elves to break them because she had been such a naughty girl. She was only four years old.”
Callum recalled something from his past. He’d never told anyone what he’d done. How could this freak possibly know?
“It was the same year you told all the kiddies in the queue waiting to see Santa Claus, that he was dead and no one would be getting any presents that year.”
Callum shook his head from side to side, instantly regretting the movement. He remembered that day. The tears and cries of the other children. The angry parents. It had been a wonderful day. Well worth being grounded for a week. He’d done something else that day too. But what?
“And there was the elf you kicked. The one who had to stand there in silence when he really wanted to slap the mean little smirk from your face. Yes, I can see you remember now. That was me.”
Disbelief possessed Callum. This thing couldn’t be the man who was dressed as an elf all those years ago, and why would he do this because a little boy was a bit naughty twenty years ago?
“I can see you still don’t believe in me Callum but you will.” He fish-hooked a finger into the corner of Jess’s mouth and pulled, ripping her lips into an extended bloody grin. “Poor, poor little girl,” he sang. “But you don’t care about ruining Christmas for anyone. Do you Callum?”
Callum tried to phrase some words but his flapping jaw refused to comply with what his brain commanded. Blubbering noises slipped from his ruined mouth along with bloodied saliva.
The elf giggled, an obscene resonance in the room. “You never grew out of your spiteful streak either. You stabbed your best friend in the back to steal his promotion and screwed his wife at the same time.”
