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Narrator/Storyteller (7:24)

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Narrator/Storyteller (8:25)

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 borrow. Oh, great, I said without much enthusiasm. Big wet snowflakes coated us in the few minutes it took to unload the car and jogged 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 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 grey 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 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 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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (11:20)

June mentioned you were from the South.

Narrator/Storyteller (11:22)

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 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. Mathias. Mathias. 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 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 have the same parents. Where's Mrs. Mills? Matthias smile wavered. Eh, 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 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, the ceiling arching high above us. Several thick naked wooden beams held it up. A large red oriental rug stretched from wall to wall, complimenting the forest green wall 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 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 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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (17:21)

Sit down, sit down.

Narrator/Storyteller (17:23)

He ordered as he fell onto one of the couches. I obliged, sitting on the other couch facing 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. Mathias 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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (18:33)

Were?

Narrator/Storyteller (18:34)

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 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, 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. It I understand the 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 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 over indulgence 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, 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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (23:21)

Shh.

Narrator/Storyteller (23:21)

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 glow 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 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 noise nudity around me. You too, Mrs. Mills. Please, call me Holly. Without waiting 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 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 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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (26:54)

Oh God, what time is it?

Narrator/Storyteller (26:56)

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, Polly, 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 Holly'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. 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. 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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (28:26)

I am the soul of St. Nicholas.

Narrator/Storyteller (28:30)

It roared, its voice cracking through the air like thunder. I paused my squirming. I'm sorry, what?

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (28:40)

You heard him, mortal.

Narrator/Storyteller (28:42)

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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (29:20)

I am weak and old, but fresh blood will wash me anew.

Narrator/Storyteller (29:27)

His eyes glowed like burning coals. O St Nicholas, we worship thee. The voices of the Mills family rose above the circle. Their eyes closed with intense concentration. Matthias continued. We call upon the witching hour to

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (29:45)

bring our deity new life.

Narrator/Storyteller (29:48)

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 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 to complete the ritual. The reindeer who stood almost a foot beneath me smiled.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (30:44)

Oh, the foolish confidence of the son charged with the burden of the father.

Narrator/Storyteller (30:51)

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, left. He looked like a child doing the pee pee dance. Oh, look at me, he said in a mocking tone.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (31:13)

I'm Calvin and I'm an orphan. My daddy entrusted me with our family's sacred duty. But I'm scared.

Narrator/Storyteller (31:23)

The reindeer shook its head dramatically with each word.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (31:26)

If only Daddy was here to help me kill these people.

Narrator/Storyteller (31:32)

Holly's anger faltered on her face. She was confused as well. This behavior, apparently was not what the Mills family expected from their God.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (31:43)

What the.

Narrator/Storyteller (31:44)

Matthias stood, his face twisted in confusion.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (31:49)

Get off me, lady.

Narrator/Storyteller (31:51)

The reindeer bucked and hah. Fell to the ground with a painful thud. Matthias reached out and called 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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (32:10)

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.

Narrator/Storyteller (32:23)

Them and burn their black little hearts

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (32:26)

in a fire born of coal and pine.

Narrator/Storyteller (32:30)

He stopped his dance, his face becoming stern again.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (32:35)

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.

Narrator/Storyteller (32:58)

I spat at the ground and looked to the Mills.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (33:02)

This isn't Santa Claus, you morons.

Narrator/Storyteller (33:06)

The reindeer took a step towards me.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (33:09)

Do you believe in fate, Calvin?

Narrator/Storyteller (33:13)

I looked down 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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (33:27)

I followed you, Calvin.

Narrator/Storyteller (33:30)

I could smell your hunter scent in the snow and I followed it. He stepped back and looked up at me, smirking. I found the snow. Same idiots.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (33:41)

I knew you would.

Narrator/Storyteller (33:43)

A little early 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, chewing 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?

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (34:45)

Not tonight, Calvin.

Narrator/Storyteller (34:48)

He winked. I looked down at my watch. 1:15.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (34:53)

I still have two hours to perform the ritual.

Narrator/Storyteller (34:57)

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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (35:11)

Oh my. Where did those rascals get to he

Narrator/Storyteller (35:16)

stomped around in mock confusion. The bare bones he stood on, audibly snapping with the weight.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (35:23)

Welp.

Narrator/Storyteller (35:24)

He looked back up at me.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (35:26)

Good luck trying to find new sacrifices

Narrator/Storyteller (35:29)

in the middle of whatever state this is.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (35:32)

I'm out.

Narrator/Storyteller (35:33)

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.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (35:44)

See you next Christmas, he said over

Narrator/Storyteller (35:47)

his shoulder as he disappeared. 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 war 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. 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.

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Narrator/Storyteller (37:44)

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 seen. 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 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 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 WI fi. 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 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 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. 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. 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 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 lots 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 of 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 tyler it up. But just as he did, the whistle blew and it was halftime. 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 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 canceled 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 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 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 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 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. Have you ever noticed that a very common nickname given to serial killers is Vampire. Vampire from this city or the city's name. Vampire. In my country, we had three of them, each active at a different time, in different years and in different cities. Interestingly, none of them drank the blood of their victims, but all of them killed women. I guess the vampire simply symbolizes a monster in such cases. One of them was active in the town where my grandmother lived when she was quite a young woman herself. A terrible monster. He attacked strange women after dark. He struck once with all his strength on the back of their head. When the women fell, they were beaten until he thought they were dead. He would run away. Nothing more and nothing less. For no reason. He just killed. It took the authorities many years to catch this guy. Even many of the police women dressed up as ordinary women, hiding a hardened material under a scarf or cap on their heads to absorb the blow. And they walked the streets in the evenings, hoping that he would attack them and they will finally have the opportunity to capture him years later after his capture. During the interrogation, the vampire laughed loudly at the police efforts. Haven't you ever wondered why I never once fell for your traps? He said. Your women felt no fear. They walked with their heads held high. They did not look around. There was no fear in their steps. Every other woman stank of fear. I always knew who to attack and who not to attack. He was active for six years, and during that time he attacked 21 women, killed 14 of them. Aged 16 to 57. My grandmother worked in another city, not far from the town where she lived. Every day she returned home by tram. Those were still times when very few people in my country owned a car and the tram stopped relatively close to her house. Coming back in the evening wasn't always scary. It was still bright in the summer, but in the winter, darkness came quickly. Coming home had therefore become more dangerous, and there was panic in local society. Everyone knew about the attacks on single women. One day, my grandma was getting ready to leave at her tram stop when the tram driver called to her. There was no one else in the vehicle. This was almost the last stop. Grandma looked around, but approached the driver to ask what was going on. Do you live far Away? Asked the driver. My grandma was a little confused. She didn't really want to answer. But the driver continued for about half an hour. Hour. The same car has been stopping behind me at every single stop. It waits for the passengers to get off, then follows me and goes to the next stop. As I do, he doesn't overtake me, but he also has not gotten any farther away than the distance of even one other car. You're the last passenger. You're alone, it's dark, and I'm about to leave. Tell me in general terms how far away you live, because I really don't want to drop you off here alone. My grandma was seriously scared. She looked behind her. It was true. Behind the tram, the lights of a car parked at the tram stop were shining. Even though passenger cars were not allowed to stop in such a place, his engine was on. He waited. My grandma pointed to a house that was a bit farther away from the tram stop, but already visible, right next to the road where the tram was running. The driver thought for a moment.

Matthias Mills / Reindeer (St. Nicholas) (52:21)

I'm not allowed to drop you off

Narrator/Storyteller (52:23)

in the middle of the road. The law prohibits me from doing this, and it's dangerous. But we'll do this. You'll get off here and you will start walking towards home. I'll drive right really slow to follow your steps and your speed. I'll stop right in front of your house to make sure you've gotten inside. Okay? Please hurry and do not go anywhere else. My grandma thanked him, got off the tram and walked at a fast pace towards the house. The tram, as the driver promised, followed her. He drove as slowly as she walked, and the car behind him moved and and began to drive just as slowly. My grandma started to panic. She was almost running home. The tram driver, as promised, stopped when she approached the gate of the house and started looking for her keys. Then, with a screech of tires, the driver of the passenger car overtook the tram and drove away at great speed. The next morning, when grandma and her family were getting ready for breakfast, the doorbell rang. Grandma opened the door and two policemen stood in front of her. In the light of day, in the warmth of the house, she forgot for a moment about yesterday's situation. In the end, nothing happened to my grandma, so she did not immediately associate the arrival of the authorities with the strange experience of the previous evening. Until she heard that another woman had been murdered just last night, and her body was found literally one street down from hers, between her stop and the next one. She died about an hour after my grandmother got home. The police were now going around the houses nearby, asking everyone if they knew or heard anyone or seen anything unusual. Of course, my grandma told the police everything that happened. She provided information about the tram driver who probably saved her life, and she asked to give him a letter which she quickly prepared. She only wrote thank you, you are an angel, and signed her name. But then, after a few days, she found the man herself and was went to give him coffee and sugar, which at the time were also delicacies that not everyone could afford. Of course, we are not sure if it was him. The vampire was the passenger car driver actually a murderer? Maybe not. Maybe it was just a scary situation in a city overwhelmed by panic. But you must admit that it is a bit unlikely to have been a coincidence.