☆彡 Celebrating Christmas, the mitmiya way ;D
Ah, yes. Christmas is upon us, and our hole-y pockets are grieving the lost money but knowing it is in a better place in the hands of a greedy seller has been spent for good :D; And since it is Christmas, it's common for most fiction writers -whether it's original or not- to try their hand at a Christmas-themed piece of work, and who am I to skip this joyous challenge?
First times are always awkward, so I shall just welcome you to the Stringknots and hope you enjoy what I have to offer you :3 Feedback is always welcomed, so is constructive criticism though it makes me feel all D;
Well.. here we go~
Title: Checking The Naughty List
Genre: Suspense, horror
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A -somewhat- dark story, which should not be read if you're looking for the Christmas cheer ._.
He stepped in carefully, the door behind him still creaking as it slowly danced on its hinges, uncertain, and he could feel his heart overtaxing itself; gasping and huffing as it drummed in the base of his throat. A clock ticked away somewhere in the hallway and he unconsciously paced his progress with each noise emitted.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
His hand fumbled, feeling and tracing the wall for the switch he knew to be there, as his memories flashed in his mind, but none concerning the location of that switch; more important things were taking place whenever he stepped into this haven.
Tick tock.
He should have gone home, they should have gone to a motel.
Tick tock.
"Kid?"
Tick tock.
He yelled, his foot stepping on something thick, yet soft, and his hand frantically scanned the area for the damn switch, while taking a hasty, ungraceful step backwards. Panting, as adrenaline burned through his veins, he almost wept when the numb fingers found the tiny switch.
Holding his breath, he flipped it, and wide eyes looked for the object he had stepped on, only to let it go; the fake white beard was the only threat he noticed. Moving his sight upwards, his heart skipped a beat, a needle passing over a crack in the record as grey, lifeless eyes met him, the owner clad in red, familiar costume. The suitcase slipped from the slack grip and blood slowly caked over, sloppily forming a silent, screaming message on the wall.
"MY COAL FOR THE NAUGHTY."
First times are always awkward, so I shall just welcome you to the Stringknots and hope you enjoy what I have to offer you :3 Feedback is always welcomed, so is constructive criticism though it makes me feel all D;
Well.. here we go~
Title: Checking The Naughty List
Genre: Suspense, horror
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A -somewhat- dark story, which should not be read if you're looking for the Christmas cheer ._.
He stepped in carefully, the door behind him still creaking as it slowly danced on its hinges, uncertain, and he could feel his heart overtaxing itself; gasping and huffing as it drummed in the base of his throat. A clock ticked away somewhere in the hallway and he unconsciously paced his progress with each noise emitted.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
His hand fumbled, feeling and tracing the wall for the switch he knew to be there, as his memories flashed in his mind, but none concerning the location of that switch; more important things were taking place whenever he stepped into this haven.
Tick tock.
He should have gone home, they should have gone to a motel.
Tick tock.
"Kid?"
Tick tock.
He yelled, his foot stepping on something thick, yet soft, and his hand frantically scanned the area for the damn switch, while taking a hasty, ungraceful step backwards. Panting, as adrenaline burned through his veins, he almost wept when the numb fingers found the tiny switch.
Holding his breath, he flipped it, and wide eyes looked for the object he had stepped on, only to let it go; the fake white beard was the only threat he noticed. Moving his sight upwards, his heart skipped a beat, a needle passing over a crack in the record as grey, lifeless eyes met him, the owner clad in red, familiar costume. The suitcase slipped from the slack grip and blood slowly caked over, sloppily forming a silent, screaming message on the wall.
"MY COAL FOR THE NAUGHTY."