The killer Santa claus

"Hhhh!" Emily's breath came in short, ragged gasps as she sprinted up the narrow staircase, sweat trickling down her temple. Behind her, the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed, each one louder and closer than the last.

She reached the top, her heart pounding, and turned sharply, nearly stumbling. "Go that way!" she hissed, shoving her hoobaes toward the lounge room.

The group of students huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling. Emily pushed the door closed behind them, pressing a finger to her lips. "Stay here," she whispered sharply. "Please, teach. Don’t move. It’s dangerous—he’ll find you if you go."

"But what about you?" Madison whimpered, clutching Emily’s arm.

"Everything will be fine," Emily said, forcing calm into her voice, though her hands were trembling. Her gaze darted to the dark hallway behind her. "If you hear me scream... run."

The door clicked shut. Emily turned back toward the empty corridor, her fingers curling into fists. The footsteps had stopped, but the silence was worse. Somewhere in the shadows, he was waiting.

And she was the only thing standing between him and them.

"Don’t go!" Madison whispered desperately, her voice trembling with fear. Emily turned to look at her, a faint smile flickering across her face before she turned her back and walked away, leaving Madison and her friend Charlotte behind.

Madison’s instincts screamed at her to run after Emily, to pull her back, but Charlotte grabbed her hand, holding her firmly in place. "Don’t," Charlotte muttered, her grip tightening.

Then, they heard it.

Emily’s scream tore through the silence, chilling them to the bone.

It was the signal.

If they heard the scream, it meant Emily was gone—just like all the others before her.

Two Hours Earlier…

It was a special afternoon at school. All the English teachers had organized a "Creative Writing Day," giving students the chance to unleash their imagination and craft their own stories.

Madison and her group of friends, passionate about writing, couldn’t miss this opportunity. They arrived early, buzzing with excitement.

Twenty minutes later, the event officially began. Only a few students from the school had signed up, but that made it even better—a more intimate atmosphere. Madison and her best friend Charlotte were thrilled, their notebooks and pens ready to dive into the topic.

When the theme was finally announced, the room fell silent, save for the soft background music the teachers had chosen. Snow fell gently outside the frosted windows, and Christmas songs hummed faintly through the air. The room itself was a winter wonderland: a large, beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood proudly in the center, its twinkling lights casting warm, cozy shadows.

Everything seemed perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

A boy named Jackson stood up to go to the bathroom. He walked out casually, but when he returned a few minutes later, the entire room froze.

Jackson was unrecognizable.

Blood smeared his clothes and face, his movements slow and uneven, as if something inside him had broken. He stumbled forward, barely able to walk.

Everyone stared in stunned silence. Then, someone screamed.

Jackson collapsed to the floor, his body convulsing as blood poured out, draining him of the life he once had. His best friend, Aiden, rushedbtoward him, but when he reached Jackson, it was too late. He froze, staring in horror at his friend’s lifeless, blood-soaked body.

Emily, their class teacher, panicked. "Everyone, grab your things and get out—now!" she shouted.

Most of the students, paralyzed by fear, snapped into action and rushed for the exit. But not Madison, Charlotte, Aiden, or Alice. They stayed behind, unable to move, terror rooting them to the spot. Aiden remained standing over Jackson’s body, his face pale and stricken with shock.

Suddenly, a deafening splash echoed through the room. All at once, the windows were drenched in blood, the crimson liquid dripping down the glass like rain.

Emily was the only adult left standing.

And then they realized—he was coming.

Aiden turned his head, his eyes widening in horror. "Madison!" he screamed, his voice cracking. The figure was right behind her.

Aiden didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, pushing Madison out of the way, shielding her with his own body. The killer’s blade struck deep, and Aiden let out a choked cry before crumpling to the floor. Madison stumbled, watching in frozen disbelief as the boy she had loved for two years lay dying before her.

Nobody could see the killer’s face, but Emily knew exactly who—or what—he was.

The figure loomed in the doorway, dressed in a Santa Claus outfit. His white beard, once a symbol of holiday cheer, was matted and soaked with the blood of his victims.

“Run!” Emily screamed, snapping the others out of their shock.

Leaving Aiden’s lifeless body behind, the group sprinted through the halls, their breaths ragged and their hearts pounding. The killer Santa followed, his footsteps heavy, unrelenting, and filled with murderous intent.

Alice, with an air of arrogance, stopped abruptly and turned to the rest of the group. "I’m tired," she said, exasperated. "I need a break."

But before anyone could respond, he was already there.

It happened in an instant.

A sickening crunch echoed through the hallway as Alice’s head split cleanly into two, spraying blood in every direction. Madison screamed as the warm, sticky liquid splattered across her face, blinding her momentarily.

Panic took over. Without thinking, the others turned and bolted, leaving Alice’s lifeless body behind. Alone.

"Hhhh!" Emily's breath came in short, ragged gasps as she sprinted up the narrow staircase, sweat trickling down her temple. Behind her, the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed, each one louder and closer than the last.

She reached the top, her heart pounding, and turned sharply, nearly stumbling. "Go that way!" she hissed, shoving her hoobaes toward the lounge room.

The group of students huddled together, wide-eyed and trembling. Emily pushed the door closed behind them, pressing a finger to her lips. "Stay here," she whispered sharply. "Please, teach. Don’t move. It’s dangerous—he’ll find you if you go."

"But what about you?" Madison whimpered, clutching Emily’s arm.

"Everything will be fine," Emily said, forcing calm into her voice, though her hands were trembling. Her gaze darted to the dark hallway behind her. "If you hear me scream... run."

The door clicked shut. Emily turned back toward the empty corridor, her fingers curling into fists. The footsteps had stopped, but the silence was worse. Somewhere in the shadows, he was waiting.

And she was the only thing standing between him and them.

"Don’t go!" Madison whispered desperately, her voice trembling with fear. Emily turned to look at her, a faint smile flickering across her face before she turned her back and walked away, leaving Madison and her friend Charlotte behind.

Madison’s instincts screamed at her to run after Emily, to pull her back, but Charlotte grabbed her hand, holding her firmly in place. "Don’t," Charlotte muttered, her grip tightening.

Then, they heard it.

Emily’s scream tore through the silence, chilling them to the bone.

It was the signal.

If they heard the scream, it meant Emily was gone—just like all the others before her.

The door was just ahead. Freedom was within their reach, but the killer Claus was still there, blocking their path. They both knew the truth—one of them would have to die so the other could survive.

Madison took a deep breath, her heart racing as she made her decision. "I’ll do it," she whispered. She was ready to sacrifice herself for Charlotte.

But just as Madison stepped forward, Charlotte grabbed her shoulders, shoving her aside. "No," Charlotte said firmly, tears glistening in her eyes. Before Madison could stop her, Charlotte sprinted toward the killer.

She glanced back one last time, waving her hand and flashing a bittersweet smile. "Goodbye, Madison," she called.

Charlotte collided with the killer, her bravery short-lived. The monster grabbed her with terrifying ease. In a single, gruesome motion, he ripped her head clean off, holding it triumphantly before throwing it to the floor. Blood splattered across Madison's face as she froze in horror.

The killer turned toward her, but this time, Madison didn’t wait. She ran. Sprinting past the carnage, she burst through the door and out into the cold night. She barely managed to call the police before collapsing onto the snow-covered street, trembling and broken.

The next day…

Madison woke up in her bed, her body drenched in sweat. She sat up abruptly, her chest heaving. "Was it all real?" she whispered to herself, her voice shaking.

Relief washed over her when she realized she was safe. It had only been a nightmare—a vivid, horrible dream. She exhaled shakily and glanced at her phone to check the time.

Then her stomach dropped.

The screen showed the date: December 24th.

The day it all began.