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- [00:00]
Host
Hey, welcome to Scary Stories and Rain. I really hope you enjoyed this episode. And don't forget you can subscribe to this podcast for just $2.99 a month. You can get rid of all of the irritating ads and be automatically entered to win a Nintendo Switch 2 Mario Kart bundle. Only $2.99 a month. No more ads. I have all the info you need in the description to this episode. And one last thing. Thank you so much for being here. I really hope you enjoy.
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- [00:56]
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Foreign.
- [01:02]
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- [01:29]
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- [01:32]
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We're talking puzzle, toys and lick pad delivered so fast you can get this puppy under control. Fast. Pads, Coleman, Peg, Hammer. Fast and fast. And those training T R E a T s faster than you can say sit. Fast. Fast. Free delivery. It's on. Prime I come from a very strange town full of very strange things. From a diner appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye to a GH ghost ship that seems to border our sea. Let's just say when it comes to strange things, this town does not disappoint. My name is James and I have lived in this town for 30 years and for as long as I can remember, there have been no children other than the ones born here that have ever lived in this town. Well, I wouldn't say never. You see, in this town, children just simply disappear. I don't know if it's cursed or if this town simply does not like outsiders. The year is 1990. I was an 8th grader in junior high and captain of the school's basketball team. We had a pretty solid record so far and we were set to face our arch rivals. This team was no joke either. After all, they were undefeated and had one of the best scorers in the state on their team. 12 year old Jack Harvey. He was considered to be the prospect everyone wanted going into high school. Well, that all changed the night of the big game when he disappeared. The day everyone was waiting for had finally come. The final bell had rung and school was let out for the weekend. While many paired off and did what they wanted, most were excited to attend the late night November game that would soon change the town forever. It was 5pm, November 16, 1990 and everyone was filling up the Central Middle School gym for what should be the game of the year. Buses pulled into the oversized parking lot and the rival team poured off of them like they were a bunch of sweaty nerds at a convention. The time was soon 6:30pm and both teams were taking the court one by one. The score went up and the parents at both sides were erupting into what seemed to be a mix of cheers and boos as if this place was about to be a riot zone. I passed to Ryan, who passed to Josh who went for a layup to tie it up. But just as he did, the whistle blew and it was half time. We all went to the locker room to either get hydrated or snack on something when a scream was heard from the opposing locker room. The coaches rushed in to see what was going on and to everyone's horror, Jack was gone. Only his shoes with blood stains all over them remained. The coaches backed out slowly into the hall where all the kids from my team were now waiting to see what was going on. The coaches shielded us from the view of the locker room and we quickly realized Jack wasn't the only one missing. The coaches were overheard by some of my other teammates talking about how three other young boys from the opposing team were also now missing. The sheriff's department soon arrived and an investigation was underway. Everyone from my team to their team, including coaches and parents, were questioned, but nothing ever came of it, as if the boys simply vanished into thin air. The rest of the game was cancelled and an early curfew was put into effect for the town. Any and all children under 17 had to be inside by 5pm and were not to leave under any circumstances until 9am the next morning. A few weeks have passed since their disappearance and that's all the cops talk about. That was until another boy visiting his grandmother from a neighboring town town also went missing. The sheriff's department, now on high alert, started shifting their attention to predators that lived in the area. Of course they turned up nothing with this and by the end of December, the case went cold. The new year came and went with no new leads, and the families were starting to give up. Then came February 10, 1991, three months after the kids went missing from the Central Middle School, the sheriff's office finally got their first break. A homeless man by the name of Carl Adams reported seeing the boys wander into the old mining shafts outside of town at 2am Saturday morning, one day after the big game. The sheriff's department rushed to the mines and searched them from top to bottom, only for them to disappear too. The search for the missing deputies and children went on for three weeks and turned up nothing. That was until June 2, 1991, four months after the sheriff's deputies went missing and one of them actually turned up stumbling into town, babbling about a force of nature taking them away. Deputy Morrison looked to be out of his mind. The sheriff took his report and pretty much tossed it out, as well as locking him away in the state's mental asylum, where he remains to this day. The mines collapsed in 2004 and nobody has been in or out since. It remains a cold case 33 years later. My heart truly goes out to the missing, but to be honest, I'm just glad that it wasn't me and that it's just another blip in our town's weird history. This just happened to me two weeks ago and the situation still frightens me whenever I think about it. I live with my boyfriend, who I'll call Jake, in a 12 story building right in the heart of a big city. The building itself is relatively new, but one thing I've noticed is how much the residents insist on frequent renovations around here. Therefore, it's very common to spot workers of various places walking around. We live on the 10th floor with our dog. One irritating aspect of my current living situation is that my boyfriend is incredibly distracted about everything, especially when the issue is locking the door. Even if we do live higher up, I still religiously lock the door every time I get home, leave the house or go to bed. The same, however, cannot be said about Jake. He frequently takes the dog out twice a day and goes to the gym a few times on the week. Jake has the hazardous custom of leaving the door unlocked even after I asked him not to. This story is about one of the times this got out of hand and traumatized me for life. It was a regular Thursday afternoon and our dog was with the pet sitter for the day. Since it was very hot outside, I hopped in the shower earlier than usual. Jake went out for his Exercise and as usual, left the door unlocked. I didn't realize this because he left without letting me know that he was leaving. Everything was fine at first, but then I started hearing some noises outside the bathroom. I thought it was one of two possibilities. Either my boyfriend was just moving about and being loud, or maybe it was just normal noise from the street. I quickly finished showering, got dressed really fast, and opened the bathroom door. Imagine my total shock when I walk out into the living room and see a man that I have never seen before roaming around my apartment. This guy was stocky, dressed in what seemed to be a work jumpsuit of some sort, like a mechanic would wear. He had greasy, wavy hair and kept opening cabinets around in my living room. I was stunned, but immediately felt fear like a punch in the gut. I can defend myself with punches and knives, of course, but not many people actually want to go through this kind of situation. So, shaking, I asked him who he was and what he was doing in my house. He turned around, clearly startled, and mumbled something about being the Internet guy because somehow he had seen that we were having issues with the wifi. We weren't, of course, and of course I didn't believe him since he didn't have a badge or anything on him. Nervously, I confronted him with that. That was when he stared at me, seemingly deciding what to do next. His face looked average and. And honestly, it's hard to describe. I could not wait though. This was too weird. So I walked to the front door and opened it for him, telling him to leave right now or I would call the police. To my absolute relief, he did. When he walked by me, I could smell strong body odor wafting from his jumpsuit. As soon as he left, I quickly locked the door with my heart pounding so hard, hard it actually hurt my rib cage. I cried a little, nervous about having my privacy invaded like this. What if he had a weapon? What if he had violent intentions? What if he knocked me out before I could defend myself? It's a kind of horror that's very hard to convey unless you've been through a situation like this. I immediately called the doorman downstairs to let him know what happened. I described the man and asked if I should call the cops. He persuaded me not to, saying that it was probably a confused workman that didn't mean any harm. Then I called Jake. He was startled, but he was getting home by this point and told me the same thing the doorman did. Eventually, I calmed down and thought about what to do, deciding not to call the cops after all. We live in a big city and they are infamous for not doing much around here. Anyway. I also scolded Jake for not locking the door again and we had a huge argument about it, but he promised that he would never do it again. We haven't seen that man ever since and if we ever do, I will not hesitate to make a scene and call the cops immediately. Ryan Reynolds here from Mint Mobile. With the price of just about everything going up, we thought we'd bring our prices down. So to help us we brought in a reverse auctioneer, which is apparently a thing Mint Mobile Unlimited Premium wireless better get 30, 30 better get 30, better get 20, 2020 better get 20, 20 better to get 15151515 just 15 bucks a month so give it a try@mintmobile.com Switch upfront payment of $45 for a three month plan equivalent to $15 per.
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- [13:03]
Host
Busy taxes and fees extra see mintmobile.com she's made up her mind to live pretty smart. Learn to budget responsibly right from the start. She spends a little less and puts more into savings. Keeps her blood pressure low and credit score raises boring money moves. Make kind of lame songs, but they sound pretty sweet to your wallet. BNC bank brilliantly boring since 1865. This episode is brought to you by Liquid IV. In heart pumping moments, you need hydration that can keep up. That's where Liquid IV comes in. Scientifically formulated to quickly replenish electrolytes and fluids lost from your well earned sweat session. Hydrate your favorite mode of movement with Liquid iv. Made with triple the electrolytes of the leading sports drink plus eight vitamins and nutrients also available and sugar free tear pour live more. Visit liquidiv.com to learn more. In 2002 I was a junior in high school. 11th grade grade to be precise. At this time, Terrence Cook was a junior in high school as well, and for the second time due to being held back. The town that I went to high school in does not have anything to be considered a bad area. But we've got some latchkey keys who live in the trailer park on the other side of the train tracks. And that's about as close to a ghetto that we have. Terrence was one of these latchkey kids. I don't know that for sure, but he always seemed like he was and that he had a rough home life at school. Every year when everybody had brand new clothes and backpacks, Terrance showed up in the same worn out hand me downs as the year prior. Sometimes I would walk to school early in the morning and I'd see Terrence stumbling out of the park with a blanket wrapped around him and little branches with leaves in his afro. If ever a fight broke out at school, 90% of the time it was Terrance. He was a real meet me at the flagpole in the parking lot kind of guy. Whenever somebody defecated in the urinal stall or the sink or a teacher's desk, most assuredly, it was Terrance who always admitted to it when he would be caught with an excited, crude eating grin on his face. He was that kid who would set off stink bombs in the the gym before an assembly. He would streak across the field during our football games and he would pull the fire alarm at least once a month. Nobody could prove it because nobody was ever caught pulling it. But it went off three times in a day, and the very last one ended up being an actual fire that had started in the center of the football field, burned all the grass on the pitch, and had it not been for the ring of concrete track that rounded our field, that fire would have spread out into the bleachers and beyond. These were the type of fire alarms that if you pulled it, a nasty blue ink would squirt out and get everywhere. So when Terrence was questioned about it, he said nothing. He didn't do it, he claimed. To make matters more difficult, there was no blue ink on his hands or arms, on his person at all. Nothing provable. Faculty and staff alike were stumped. Three different fire alarms were pulled with inky blue streaks on the floor and the walls. And somehow this kid flipped them without getting a drop on himself. When his backpack and his locker were searched by the administration, there was nothing to indicate that he had anything to do with starting the fire. There was just nothing to point at him for committing the crime. It was just right up his alley and the kind of thing that he would do. Terrence never once bothered me. In fact, he never said a word to me in all my years. I saw him bully other kids and boy, we would just get so annoyed. Every day he'd be asking somebody for money or a cigarette, or he would ask to come along to go smoke in the creek. I know. He was also supposedly really bad to girls. Hitting them, pushing them. Just evil acts inflicted on people for never a good enough reason. There were a few other kids that hung out with Terrence, Ethan and Otho, but for some reason, it always looked to Me like they did not care for this kid at all and were in his company, perhaps because they were scared of what he would do to them. As Terrence had a big mouth and had no corps qualms about giving you a quick punch to the gut. Many were worried that one day he would graduate from fighting with his fists to stabbing people in the hallway. I think that Ethan and Otho had no genuine liking for Terrance, but kept him around because he was amusing. So, yeah, Terrence was a real piece of crap. As I stated earlier, I felt a little bad for him. He seemed embarrassingly poor and grossly neglected and probably some other issues. We all suspected that his dad beat the crap out of him. All we knew about his dad was he just lived in a bottle and was known to yell and scream, which could be heard all over the trailer park. His mom was supposed to be no better. At lunch, we would have an open campus and we could walk off from the school and go downtown to get burgers or fries or tacos or just anything quick enough to buy and consume. In an hour, poor Terrence would have one of those paper cards that the school would hand out where you would get a free lunch from the cafeteria. This food, of course, looked like prison food, and if you were seen eating from one of those, your other classmates would ridicule you. It's just a fact. This led to poor Terrence following people around my friends and me sometimes. Hey, can I get a dollar? Can I get the rest of that sandwich? You got a cigarette? We'd tell him every different version of no we could think of while still seemingly polite because we did not want to send Terrence off on one of his irrational, violent tirades. Early into the school year, maybe starting in early October, we had the arrival of somebody who would come to be called. Called the pizza lady. From what I recall, she just showed up in the creek one day where there were a couple of picnic tables and benches and set 30 large pizza boxes down. 15 cheese, 15 pepperoni. She sat there and waited and waited, and sure enough, some high school kids snuck down into the creek, smoked, and there she found four high schoolers with the munchies. Hey, guys, she said, I'll charge you a dollar a slice if you're hungry. I remember hearing how those kids ate three or four large pizzas between them, and the words set off like wildfire. You've gotta go see the pizza lady after school. Let's go get a cheap slice. The pizza lady is the bomb. There was no way I wasn't going to check this out. Even in 2002, this was a steal of a deal. I wanted to get down there and see the whole operation. So it's the next day and my friends and I get out of class and we smoke on our way down to the creek. When we get down there, there are about 20 high schoolers, maybe more, freshman to senior, all gathered around anxiously waiting. Some were smoking, others were sipping off some bottles. Of course Terrence was there, just capped on caffeine or something because I remember how hyper he was, jumping up and down. Pizza, pizza, pizza. He had a large stick in his hand and was whacking at trees and dirt and even motioning for other kids to get out of the way or he would thwack them. Man, it was as if this kid never had a slice of pizza before. When I thought about it a bit more, it's sad because it was probably true. Within 10 minutes, the pizza lady arrived and pulled her car up off the road and onto the side of the creek, got out of her car, walked to the trunk, opened it and lifted out a pile of pizza boxes. I'll carry those for you if I can get a free slice, terrance said. Yeah, she said in a monotone whisper. With that, Terrance zipped into the car and began taking out all the pizza boxes and rushing them to the picnic tables. The line started to form and Terrance was handed a slice of pizza, and he looked rather stoked with himself for not having to wait in line to get the first slice. The pizza lady was interesting. She seemed to lack the ability to be nice or mean. Every day she would park and say, hey guys, and that's about it. She'd hold out her hand and you'd put the dollar in her hand and take your slice. Every day it started to get a bit crazy, though. It went from 20 students at what we named Pizza Creek to 40 students within a week. 30 pizza boxes turned into 50. Cars were like sardines in a can on this creek, completely boxing each other in with their stereos blaring. And some kids would bring alcohol and some brought smoke, and we would just smoke in the creek and eat cheap pizza every afternoon the entirety of the time. The pizza lady hardly spoke, hardly smiled or frowned or even moved. She just kind of stood there smoking, staring off into space, waiting for the pizza to run out, surrounded by teenagers who all of us were smoking and drinking, and all the while she didn't seem to care. She didn't appear to like it either. I recall it made Me nervous, though. I had never smoked in front of an adult before, and in 2002, it was still illegal in California. And it just all seemed so odd to me that a grown woman would stand in a creek with teenagers getting all messed up. And of course, Terrence was there every single day. Terrence was the first to arrive and the last to leave, assisting the pizza lady with the unloading of the pizzas from the car, handing out slices while scoring two free slices a day. It irked us quite a bit. Fit. Why were we not allowed the privilege to be a helper for a day? Why should he have gotten all the free pizza? It didn't take us long to figure out that this was not a classroom, she was not a teacher, and she could play favorites if she wanted to. It got to the point, though, where Terrence was just so bad he got worse than normal. The whole situation was as if it were his idea to have the pizzas and it was his little side business and oftentimes would not ask, but start to demand things and getting very, very physical when he received an answer that he didn't like. The fight outbreaks got to be too much, and kids stopped going to Pizza Creek little by little, tapering off one by one. One time, the only time I saw the pizza lady do or say anything much was when she walked up to Terrence, pulled him by the arm away from some kids he was harassing, and said quietly to him, I don't like what you're doing. There was no firmness in her voice, no threat, not much of an emotion. Whatever it was, I had never seen Terrence hang his head like a sad dog before. He seemed disappointed with himself instead of defensive for the very first time ever. You keep doing that, she continued, quiet as ever, and you're going to get was Thursday, November 7th, and my friends and I decided we would go to Pizza Creek one final time. After that, we would just let all the other kids deal with Terrence's tyrannical reign. However, that day after school getting quite dark quite early, we found Terrence in the creek, the pizza lady with the pies, and a modest line of kids, maybe 10 or so, paying for their slices. Terrence was quiet as a crypt and stared at the ground with docility, the pizza lady stone silent, her hand outstretched, holding a pile of dollar bills, stoked that we could finally enjoy the creek in peace, we just munched away at our pizza slices, smoked a little bit, and sensing the darkness coming upon us fast, we decided to head home. I remember my friends and me gathering our stuff. We were the last ones to be leaving and walking up past the creek to get back to the road, Turning back and looking for a reason I knew not. I distinctly saw Terrance staring up at me with a look of loneliness and shame. He seemed lost and scared. I'll never forget that look on his face. He seemed almost as if he desperately wanted to come with us. He did not want to be alone with this woman who was whispering something under her breath that I could not hear. I unfortunately ignored all of this, thinking Terrence had always been a jerk, even if not to me, and that it served him right to be humbled a bit. I didn't notice, of course, that Terrence was not at school the next day, Friday. And after school, I thought that perhaps pizza creek had chilled out. So as a group group, my friends and I decided to go out one last time. This was to be the last time for sure. We promised ourselves. Well, when we got there after school, no pizza. No pizza lady. No Terrence. And the weekend went by and nobody noticed. Monday night, I guess somebody in the attendance office finally noticed. Something from what I've heard but cannot confirm, is that the school had not set off any alarm as Terrence was regularly truant and many times had to spend a week or two in a detention center. His absence wasn't so much of a shock. It's just that usually his absences were verified. The police would often find him and drag him back to school or back to his house. Oftentimes, during class, Terrance would be wandering the halls, placing fireworks in trash cans and just making mayhem. But this time, he was just nowhere. He wasn't at the school. He wasn't in a juvenile detention or the hospital. He wasn't stealing from liquor stores. He wasn't playing with weapons down by the train tracks. Terrence was just gone and nobody knew where. So the administration tried to contact Terrence's parents. The phone number they dialed seemed to be no longer in service. They had the parents address on file and decided immediately to call the police and report a lost child and that the parents probably needed a welfare check. When the police arrived at the house, they found Mrs. Cook with an arm and a sling and some black eyes. Jet skiing was the cause of the injuries. She claimed Mr. Cook was on a bender and smelled strongly of some illegal drug. Confronting Terrence's parents as to Terrence's whereabouts proved fruitless. They had not seen Terrence in over a week. They said they hoped he was in prison. They said that he might as well be in prison since he never came home and they had no clue where he was. Over the next few days, a search team was called out and many from the community joined. We searched the creek, the train tracks, the parks, everything. I went to the park where I saw him stumbling out of the bushes a few times, but never found a trace of him. Terrence just completely vanished. Somehow the police began coming to the school where they began to become a constant presence, barging into each classroom and informing us of the situation, questioning the classrooms and imploring us to come forward with any information that could be helpful. When one of the officers explained what needed to be established first was where Terrence was last seen. Scene is when it clicked in my head. It must have clicked in my friend Dustin's head too, because his hand shot up into the air saying, we saw him Thursday after school around 4:45 or so. The officer asked, where did you see him? In the creek across the train tracks just a couple blocks away from the school. The officer asked, that creek down there? Pointing in some direction that seemed to imply he understood, then continuing, was he with anybody? Yeah, another kid in my class said, the pizza lady. The pizza lady? Who is the pizza lady? We all looked around at one another before explaining to the officer all about the lady who provided us with cheap delicious food. Does anybody know what her name is? Uh. We all looked at each other again. It was apparent by the look on everybody's face that we were all thinking the same thing. Ugh, crap. No, I don't know her name. Okay. Does anybody happen to know where she lives or where she works? We all looked at each other again. It was apparent by the look on everybody's face that again we were all thinking the same thing. No, no, no idea. Did she drive a car when she started selling you guys these pizzas? Yeah, yeah, yeah, she did. Okay, good. The officer smiled. What kind of car? There was silence all across the classroom. Once again the officer frowned, bug eyed. We drifted from one confused eye to the other. I mean, the whole month I was going to this creek, I never once noticed what kind of car it was. Toyota Corolla, I think. No, it's not. It's a Kia. No dude, it wasn't a foreign car. It was a Ford or something American. No and no. And on and on it went. We all felt really bad. All, all at once guilty. We collectively stared at the floor, trying to wrap our heads around how this situation was escalating extremely quickly. Color of the car? The officer asked with a Hopeful look in his eye. Beige. And it's a four door sedan. On that we could all agree, fortunately. But that was as close to a good description of her car as we could give. And our description of the pizza lady herself wasn't much better. She's short and. No, she's not short. Well, she's not tall. She's got blonde hair. No, it wasn't. It was auburn. No, it was like graying. She's fat. She was not fat. Well, she wasn't skinny. As I sat there pondering, I was amazed at myself by how little of her features I never even took into account. I mean, putting her in my mind's eye, I couldn't recall what color eyes she had. No real sense of hair color, no tattoos, no clothes that revealed anything like where she worked or lived. Couldn't quite remember if her hair was in a ponytail or a bun. She was about as nondescript as you could get. I couldn't even remember what kind of smokes that she smoked. I think we all agreed that she had bad skin and she was slightly overweight and possibly 35, 40 years of age. So we just described about half the women in the county. As the weeks wore on, we saw the police less and less. But when we did, they were always dragging Ethan and Othan out of class and questioning them in the dean's office. Other than that, all information was withheld. I always believed Ethan and Otho that they had nothing to do with his disappearance. Many others would disagree with me and found those kids a bit suspicious. I just feel that they were so outspoken about it. They knew that everybody was looking at them with shifty eyes and understandably got irate and insisted that they told the police everything they knew. They knew they had seen Terrence in the car with the pizza lady just one time and they were not driving in the direction of his house. They also mentioned how Terrence never had any money ever. But a few days before he disappeared on that fateful Thursday, Ethan and Otho remembered him coming out of a 711 with a wad of $1 bills in his hand that he shoved into his pocket. When they confronted him about where he got the money from, Terrance became defensive and threatening and they were told to mind their own business. Eventually, Terrence's parents were arrested for more than just child neglect. I remember hearing there was an onslaught of charges thrust upon them. Possession, assault, assault, abuse, etc. Shortly before Christmas break, it ended up that a total of 14 women between the ages of 35 to 40 owning a beige four door sedan were detained and interviewed by police investigators. And every single one of them was let loose with a solid alibi. After the return to school and the start of a new semester, talks about Terrence's disappearance became less and less of the conversation topic. And in the spring we had a serial killer who was kidnapping young college students. This is sort of where Terrence truly disappeared. It seemed as if the city didn't care that a local 16 year old kid went missing. Yet suddenly two or three other kids went missing and the community was just in an uproar. The media that encircled catching the killer, the finding of the girls bodies, all of this completely eclipsed Terrance. And nothing else has ever been revealed as to whether or not his case was ongoing or if it's gone cold. There was just nothing, no information at all. What we do know is that he is not in the prison system anywhere. This has been confirmed. Some have speculated that Terrence ran away to start a new life. I don't agree with this though. And though it's harsh to say about Terrence Cook, the kid was a dum dum and I just don't see him having the resources to successfully run away from whatever sense of home he had, which was probably the school where he could get free food and smokes and talk to people. So I don't think he would have been able to just go to Canada with a new identity or something. I believe something more sinister happened. I'm sure if you worked your imagination, there are a lot of things that could have transpired. The fact that the last time I saw Terence Cook was also the last time I saw the pizza lady does not bode well. Five years had gone by and I was living in a different state state at the time. But my buddy Dustin called me, we talked about our lives and reminisced about all things. And that's when he brought up Terence Cook. It had been reported in the newspaper that Ethan and Otho were indeed suspects for a very long time. But they were cleared of all charges as having no evidence. The parents were still in prison, not for the murder of Terrence. But for all the other stuff I mentioned earlier, I think the dad got a handful more charges for beating his wife, who was more than happy to testify against him, married or not. So she totally threw him under the bus. I asked Dustin if it had ever been revealed who the pizza lady was. You know what's interesting? Dustin said the article doesn't mention her at all. And there you have it. I don't know if there's a lesson to this or anything to learn from it. Perhaps never talk to strangers. I don't know. Mind your surroundings. Even if they are young and there's a person who's an adult, you do not have to trust them. Listen to your gut if it's telling you something is not right. I sometimes think about Terrence Cook and what could have happened to him.
- [38:57]
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Your burger is served and this is our finest Pepsi. Zero sugar. Its sweet profile perfectly balances the savory notes of your burger. That is one perfect combination. Burgers deserve Pepsi. I should have known something was off about Juniper. For starters, her name was Juniper. That should have been my first red flag, but when her photo popped up on Tinder, my thumb hesitated over her face. Yeah, it was a bathroom selfie. And yeah, her lips were pursed in an annoying semi duck face, but man, she was hot. My thumb slid across my phone screen as I swiped right. Our first date was at a bar near her work somewhere in Midtown. She wanted to meet up on a Tuesday. I'd have preferred a weekend night, but whatever. I'm flexible when the catch is hot enough. It was some crappy place with a sports reference for a name, foreplay or something. The place was filled with frat boy now financial advisors taking advantage of the happy hour specials and attractive bartenders and tight tank tops. I grabbed us a table in the back behind the giant Jenga and pool tables. My phone buzzed with a text message. Running late. Be there in 10. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my cheap lager. She better be worth it. My beer caught in my throat as she walked past the bar into the main seating area. She scanned the room for me, her long blonde hair over one shoulder. She wore a fitted button up shirt unbuttoned at the top and a pencil skirt. Her long thin legs ended up in a pair of pink pumps, a little bit of spice in an otherwise fairly conservative business outfit. I felt my groin warm as my eyes lingered on her calves. Her face lit up with recognition when she caught my gaze. Her Tinder picture did not do her justice. Her nose and chin were round, her face an oval with a slight widow's peak. Her lips were full and rosy pink, her blue eyes wide with excitement. I raised my glass and smiled my most charming first date smile. Five hours later I lay in her bed, satisfied. Overall, a decent first date. As I listened to the water running from Juniper's bathroom, I decided with drowsy comfort that she would be a great sacrifice. We dated for a few months. Juniper was hot, cheeky and wild in the bedroom. Things were going great until she invited me to her parents cabin for Christmas. My father passed away earlier that year so no one was waiting for me. I had to keep Juniper close for this year's offering and I figured it was the season of family. As they said say, the more the merrier. We weren't able to drive up to her family cabin until Christmas Eve. Juniper worked as a legal secretary and the office didn't give her much time off, so it wasn't until around 3pm before we were loading Juniper's luxury crossover. It's okay, I thought. Still plenty of time. She wove the car through the snowy back roads and explained to me what a snow tire was. I had only recently moved up north from Florida and I was thankful she didn't ask me to help drive. But I had never seen snow before and its beauty struck me. I watched out the window as we passed the sparkling white landscape mesmerized. Her parents, both lawyers, were loaded, so I don't know why I was surprised when we pulled up to the family cabin. The two story mini mansion was built from polished wood and stone. Large columns stretched up from the ground to the roof, creating a sharp awning that sheltered the double glass front doors and floor to ceiling windows that spotted the modern exterior. Juniper parked her car at the top of the driveway, expressing obvious annoyance that all three spaces in the garage were already taken by her parents and sisters cars. I peered out the passenger window at the house Large, soft snowflakes fell lazily to the ground, illuminated by two spotlights shining from the front yard onto the cabin's facade. The light reflected off the snow, giving it the illusion that the heavens were raining gold. Wow. I know. I'm from Florida, but. I paused. This isn't really what I was picturing. Juniper lowered onto the wheel to get a better look at her family home. Her face glowed in the warm light from outside. She chuckled. Yeah, I know. But don't be fooled. It's not all fancy. She eyed me mischievously. The cell service is crap. Ah. I nodded, as if that one fact brought her whole family back down to earth. You brought your swimsuit, right? I laughed at the joke. Oh, of course. Her smile fell. No, Calvin, I'm serious. You brought your suit, right? I looked out the snowy wilderness around us, unsure how to respond. Juniper sighed. For the Jacuzzi. I'm sure my dad has an extra pair you can can borrow. Oh, great, I said without much enthusiasm. Big, wet snowflakes coated us in the few minutes it took to unload the car and jog to the house. The door closed with a thud and Juniper dropped her bags, kicking off her pristine duck boots before bounding down the hallway. Amber Clover. Where are you guys? I placed the box of material, meticulously wrapped gifts I had been carrying down and grabbed a quick look at my watch. 5:14. Perfect. The ride up was faster than I had expected. Still plenty of time. I looked around to see that I was standing in an entrance room. The wood floor and walls glowed with a yellow light radiating from a huge chandelier hanging above my head. It was made of light light gray branches braided around each other, their bark smooth and manicured as if they had naturally grown like that. Feminine squeals rang down the hall from the back of the house. I stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. At least I looked the part. Juniper, dissatisfied with my wardrobe, had bought me a tan wool coat. She explained that my faded leather jacket was was neither weather appropriate nor fashionable. I had moved up to the city during the summer, and my closet hadn't been prepared for the blistering winds and snow of the north. I'm lucky I had Juniper to help with that, at least according to her. Snow clung to the shoulders of the department store coat. As the warmth of the house embraced me, I could feel the chilly wetness of melting snow sink into my my knit beanie. A matching scarf was wrapped around my neck, the fibers clinging to my moist lips unpleasantly. I grabbed at the scarf with my gloved hand and pulled. In my defense, I wasn't used to the lack of individual fingers and the clumsiness of a hand wrapped in thick wool. I had half of the unwieldy piece of clothing in one hand while the end hugged my throat tightly when the Mills family entered. Oh no, baby. Juniper's voice was filled with amusement as she rushed to help me. She took the scarf and carefully untangled it from my neck. A gravelly voice boomed, filling the space. June mentioned you were from the South. Guess you guys don't really need winter accessories down there, huh? Juniper continued to help me undress out of my winter outwear as I turned. Behind her stood a beast of a man. He towered over my five' eleven frame, his shoulders broader than a football player's. His beard was thick yet neatly trimmed. He wore a fitted flannel shirt and pressed jeans, making him look more like a lumberjack who modeled for L.L. bean on his off days than a lawyer. My mouth hung open for a moment before I regained my composure. Mr. Mills, it's nice to meet you. I extended my hand around Juniper, who was still working on my coat. I'm Calvin. Matthias. Matthias. He roared, joyously pushing Juniper out of the way. As he pulled me into a tight embrace, my body was engulfed by his meaty chest. I'm not ashamed to attend. Admit it, it was the best hug of my life, comforting and warm. For a moment I forgot about the greater good, my purpose in life, my father. It was like being suspended in a vat of Christmas and love. He let go of me and I stepped back, noticing for the first time the two figures behind him. Calvin, these are my sisters, Clover and Amber, juniper said, beaming from me to them. Juniper was the middle daughter of three. Clover, at 29, was the eldest and Amber, at 22, was the youngest. The only thing the sisters had in common was that they were three of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen in my life. Clover had silky black hair cut short at her chin. Her features were sharp, her thin gray eyes bordered by heavy eyelashes. She smiled coyly at me as she extended her hand. Nice to meet you, Calvin. While Juniper's voice was high and bubbly. Clover's voice was low and throaty, similar to her father's, but with a husk feminine quality that made it difficult to think of her as my girlfriend's sister. And I'm Amber, a soft voice said to my left. I tore my gaze away from Clover to the younger sister. Amber was much shorter than her siblings, with thick red hair and a circular face. She had a button nose and round green eyes. She looked like she had stepped out of an Irish folktale. Amber contrasted sharply with her sisters. Juniper was tall and had an athletic build, tight but soft, firm and preppy like a cheerleader. Clover was tall and thin, angles and bite the only one in the room who actually looked like a lawyer but ironically was a painter. And Amber, well, let's just say Amber's curves swelled and ebbed in all the right places. A sailor could get lost exploring those rolling waves. I smiled and took her hand. It's a pleasure to meet you. Juniper didn't talk about her family much and I knew well enough not to ask, but I made a mental note to discreetly broach the subject of whether her and her sisters all had the same parents. Where's Mrs. Mills? Matthias smile wavered as she had to run an errand. His eyes shifted to Clover, whose returning gaze narrowed slightly. His dark eyes shot back to mine and he smiled confidently again, the moment of weirdness over as suddenly as it had started. She'll be back later. Come on Juniper, help us with dinner, Amber said as she grabbed her sister's hand and began to pull her down the hall. Clover's mouth turned downwards as her dark eyes leaped, lingered on me for a moment before following her sisters. Something heavy hit my shoulder and I jumped. Matthias had clapped his huge hand onto my back. Let me tell you, it's nice to have a man to talk with. I'm always surrounded by women. He laughed a low good hearted growl as he led me into another room. We entered a cavernous living room room, the ceiling arching high above us. Several thick naked wooden beams held it up. A large red oriental rug stretched from wall to wall, complementing the forest green walls well. Two large brown leather couches sat kitty corner to each other in the middle of the room. The walls were lined with hunting trophies. The taxidermied heads of different animals stared out across across at each other, their dead glassy eyes unseeing. Deer and bears snarled meaninglessly, their teeth bared without emotion. A bobcat perched on a rock in the corner of the room next to a fat pheasant. Against one wall was a large glass gun rack. Polished rifles gleamed in the warm overhead light. The centerpiece of the room, a massive movie moose head, rested above the marble fireplace in which a large fire roared, radiating heat and golden light around the room, catching me eyeing his collection. Matthias laughed. Are you a hunter, Calvin? I thought for a second before carefully choosing my next words. My father and I used to go hunting once a year together. I still practice the tradition. Good. His deep voice resonated with the warmth of the fireplace, creating an atmosphere of masculine comfort and safety. I like a man who hunts. I smiled at him and nodded, unsure how to respond. Sit down, sit down, he ordered as he fell onto one of the couches. I obliged, sitting on the other couch, facing him him as I prepared for the inevitable father boyfriend interview. Calvin. He rolled my name around his tongue experimentally as he eyed me. That's a Protestant name, isn't it? Uh, I stammered, taken off guard. Yeah, I guess so. Matthias leaned forward, resting his forearm against his thigh. Do you believe in God, Calvin? The line of questioning was going down a dark path that I had not expected in the four months I had been dating Juniper. She had never brought up religion, of course. My answer was slow and deliberate. Matthias nodded, his eyes narrowing at me. God is the most important thing to this family. The Mills clan walks close with him. We are his servants and we take that role very seriously. I nodded. My family believed the same. We were very devout. Were? Matthias asked. My father died this past February. I never knew my mother, but my dad raised me to be fearful of God. And what do you believe now? I hesitated. I still practice. You can be honest with me, Calvin. Matthias sat back into the thick leather couch. I won't tell Juniper not to date you because of your religious beliefs or lack thereof. He laughed as if that last part was a joke. I smiled at him. I'll admit I don't follow the more embellished of the ceremonies my father taught me me. But I still believe in his word and actions. He nodded. I can respect that. I know my daughters only participate in some of the more how do you put it? Embellished of the ceremonies solely for my benefit. I understand a younger generation doesn't care as much for the ritual of worship, but I think it's important that you know how deep this family's spirituality runs. God comes first in this house when God asks us to do something. He paused, looking towards the floor as he cleared his throat, looking back up at me, his gaze fierce, freezing me in time and space. We obey without question. As it should be, I said. We stared at each other for several moments before the tension was broken by Matthias's death. Deep laughter. I like you, Calvin. He stood. I'm gonna go grab a beer. Do you want one? That'd be great. Thanks. He left and I sat in the living room, surrounded by fire and death. Dinner and drinks passed uneventfully. The food was delicious and Matthias's wine cellar impressive. I didn't even notice the absence of Mrs. Mills throughout the course of the dinner. Matthias kept filling my glass and I drank the rich red wine with relish. I should have known better. Christmas Eve had been me and my father's night, and so maybe my overindulgence was an attempt to deal with his absence. Maybe I wasn't ready to go through that night's rite without him just yet. But I knew at the back of my mind that I had to, that it was my duty. I owed it not just to my father, but to the world. As Matthias poured another glass of wine, I looked down at my watch. 9:58. I needed to pace myself to rest. I would need my wits and strength for the witching hour. Luckily, I did not have to excuse myself early. As the clock struck 10, Matthias raised his glass in cheer. Let us bless our last sip of wine before we head to bed. His eyes twinkled with drink. Tonight's a big night for us, and so let us toast to family. He held his glass towards me. And new friends. To endings and new beginnings. He winked, his smirk lopsided. To the most sacred holiday. And to God. Let us give to him all that he asks of us and hope he favors us with the treasures of his bounty. He stretched his glass to mine. To St. Nicholas. Our wine glasses clinked as the sisters voices echoed their father. To St. Nicholas. I laughed and drowned the last of my wine, attributing each and every red flag to the quirkiness of a rich and spoiled family of lawyer lumberjacks. I awoke later that night to hands running up my chest. I opened my eyes, my mind groggily trying to catch up to my body's instant reaction. A warm, naked body pressed into me and I rolled towards her, pulling her closer. My lips found her soft skin and I kissed her neck, tracing the gentle curve to her jaw. Something brushed lightly against the back of my neck, but my brain was too drenched in desire and sleep to register the sensation. She moaned and I ran my hand up her side, bringing my mouth to hers. I kissed her deeply, arms wrapped around my back and I opened my eyes with instant focus. My vision suddenly filled with Clover's cold gray gaze. I recognized the sensation. Amber's breath was hot behind me and right in my ear. Shh. Don't fight it. Her tongue slid across the sensitive skin at the top of my neck and brought my earlobe between her lips. I turned to her face, her lips finding mine as I pressed myself into her thighs. I moaned slightly as Clover's hand snaked around my hip. Above me, standing at the foot of the bed, was a woman. I sat bolt upright, filled with sudden panic. Clover and Amber's hands fell away as they watched my reaction with amused expressions on their faces. The woman stood looking at me. Her hair was long, longer than Juniper's, and it was stark white, not graying, but pure white. She stood completely naked, her pale body glowing in the silver light of the moon outside the window. Her eyes were wide, revealing pupils completely milky with cataracts. She looked ageless, color fading from her along with her youth, yet her fair skin was still smooth and firm. Calvin. Mom. Mom. Calvin. Clover cooed beside me, her voice a mix of sensuality and power. Mrs. Mills stared at me with those unseeing eyes, and she smiled. It's nice to meet you, Calvin, she said quietly, her voice delicate. I was breathing heavily, my panting shifting from arousal to fear in mere seconds. My fight or flight instinct was screaming at me to do something, but I was frozen. My eyes darted to the digital clock on the nightstand. 11:28. My alarm was set to go off in only a few minutes. I still had time. Time to prepare for the ritual. I looked up at Mrs. Mills, who was still smiling at me, waiting for a response. My voice came out strained, tight with fear, confusion, and some embarrassment at the sheer amount of nudity around me. You too, Mrs. Mills. Please, call me Holly. Without waiting for for a response, she turned to Clover. He will do. Prepare him for sacrifice. I felt a pinch in my neck, then darkness. I opened my eyes slowly. My head throbbed and my body was shaking uncontrollably, the air shockingly cold. I tried to take in the scene around me through blurry vision. I was sick, sitting on the cold, hard ground. Short walls of snow surrounded me in a circle, but the circle itself was bare except for dozens of thick white candles. My body was numb against the frozen leaves that had only recently been covered. I was naked, and I realized the Mills family was kneeling. All around me, Juniper and her sister swayed in the chill night air, the slowly falling snow soaking into the delicate fabric of their nightgowns. They chanted together, their voices joining in a chorus of a German sounding dialect I did not recognize. Directly in front of me stood Matthias, his hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. A black, crooked dagger jutted out from his grasp towards his face. Oh God, what time is it? I thought as I tried to stand, but my hands were tied behind my back. A creature stepped out from the chilly darkness and into the circle looming above me was a reindeer, Holly, straddling its back. She wore a long flowing white gown. A crown of icicles was perched on her forehead, and she looked down, her white eyes glowing in the candlelight, contrasting starkly to Hawley's disturbing beauty. The reindeer was twisted and distorted. It looked more like someone's idea of a sick joke than a living animal. Instead of standing on hooves, its leg bones protruded from the ends of red oozing stumps. Bloody velvet hung loosely from white bones and fleshy stripes. Its face was dirty and blackened with what looked like charcoal. A long black tongue lolled out of its mouth between two rows of human teeth. I squirmed in that rope that bound me, trying to pull its knot loose. Juniper and I had played with bondage in the bedroom and I knew her style. It wouldn't take me long to undo anything that she had done, and my adrenaline silenced any doubt that it could have been any one of the other four family members. The creature stepped forward towards me. As it spoke, its exposed ankle bone pressed into the frozen earth with a dull crunch. I am the soul of St. Nicholas. It roared, its voice cracking through the air like thunder. I paused my squirt, squirming. I'm sorry, what? You heard him, mortal. Holly shrieked. Her voice had lost the fragile air from before. It was now dry and harsh, like paper crinkling into a ball or wood cracking as fire bites into didn't sound real. More like a demon's voice than a human's, like a succubus or siren, high pitched and flittering the cackle of an evil witch. My fight against the rope renewed with desperate determination. Screw this. And screw this family. The reindeer snickered quietly before beginning to speak again. I am weak and old, but fresh blood will wash me anew. His eyes glowed like burning coals. Oh St Nicholas, we worship thee. The voices of the Mills family rose above the circle. Their eyes closed with intense concentration. Maas continued. We call upon the witching hour to bring our deity new life. Let St. Nicholas live again. The daughters chanted. The rope fell loosely from my wrists and I silently thanked my now ex girlfriend's crappy survival skills. I jumped up, naked and filled with a fury that easily squashed all self doubt I had going until this cursed holiday. My father's death was far from my mind, replaced with hatred. Matthias eyes shot open. His daughter's chanting faded as they looked for from him, to me, to the God before us. I looked at my watch. 11:58. I sighed with relief. Witching hour wasn't for another three hours. I had plenty of time to deal with the mill's shenanigans before it was too late to complete the ritual. The reindeer who stood almost a foot beneath me smiled. I oh, the foolish confidence of the son charged with the burden of the father. He bellowed, his voice deep and impressive. I looked down at him, our eyes locking. What did you say? The deer began to paw the ground, shifting right and left. He looked like a child doing the pee pee dance. Oh, look at me, he said in a mocking tone. I'm Calvin and I'm an orphan. My daddy entrusted me with our family's sacred duty. But I'm scared. The reindeer shook its head dramatically with each word. If only Daddy was here to help me kill these people. Hahli's anger faltered on her face. She was confused as well. Well, this behavior, apparently was not what the Mills family expected from their God. What the. Mathias stood, his face twisted in confusion. Get off me, lady. The reindeer bucked and hah fell to the ground with a painful thud. Mathias reached out and quickly pulled her towards him. His daughters were now cowering at his sides, all malice and power gone from their faces, replaced with utter confusion. The reindeer continued. Luckily for little Calvin, the Mills are too dumb to know that the witching hour isn't midnight. Little Calvin still has hours to kill all of them and burn their black little hearts in a fireborn of corn, coal, and pine. He stopped his dance, his face becoming stern again. You must have been thrilled when you were brought to the woods. No fake Christmas for Florida boy? Oh no. No mail order pine needles and coal for Daddy's little boy? No. You thought coming up north was the right thing to do. Not like Daddy made you live somewhere where it didn't snow for a reason. I spat at the ground and looked to the mills. This isn't Santa Claus, you morons. The reindeer took a step towards me. Do you believe in fate, Calvin? I looked down at him. How did you find me? How. How are you even mortal? He leaned forward. His dead animal lips hovered by my face. I followed you, Calvin. I could smell your hunter's scent in the snow and I followed it. He stepped back and looked up at me, smirking. I found the same idiots I knew you would. A little early Christmas. Christmas gift just for you. His long tongue stretched out towards me. I flinched as the dry, leathery skin touched my face, caressing me. It smelt of dried fish and dirt. How were you able to become corporeal? I asked, shooing his tongue away from me. It fell lifeless, hanging in front of him uselessly. He turned his head to look at the Mills family, who stood behind him, mouths agape. Juniper's mascara ran and she cried, confused at the scene in front of her. My mind shot back to Matthias Gunrack, his hunting trophies on the wall. Oh God. Oh, he made this vessel for you, sick man. The reindeer shrugged, or at least he lifted his shoulders in what could be interpreted as a shrug. So what now? Are you going to kill me? Not tonight, Calvin. He winked. I looked down at my watch. 1:15. I still have two hours to perform the ritual. There was a hiss around me, like sand flowing. I looked up to see a pile of black where the Mills family had been seconds before. The reindeer swung his face around as if in astonishment. Oh my. Where did those rascals get to? He stomped around in mock confusion, the bare bones he stood on audibly snapping with the weight. Welp. He looked back up at me. Good luck trying to find new new sacrifices in the middle of whatever state this is. I'm out. He turned away from me and leapt into the snow. He bounded deeper into the woods, his legs spasming in front of him as if he didn't have the right number of knees. See you next Christmas, he said over his shoulder as he disappeared from sight. And now, because of the idiocy of one family, my legacy has died. For the first time in 200 years, my bloodline has failed in our sacred duty, and for that I apologize. I have failed you. There were so many signs, so many red flags. I should have known. So here's a warning, the last thing I can offer you in my father's name this Christmas Eve. Make sure to lock your doors and windows, leave your shoes outside, and stay bundled in your bed. Because this year Krampus is back.