He Sees You When You're Sleeping

18th December- The Gift

The doorbell rang. Keith Miller's younger sister, Lucy, immediately dashed to the door and flung it open. There was nobody at the door. She pouted, face pulled into a disappointed frown. She looked down to the floor and her disappointment vanished in an instant. A package was sat on the doormat, wrapped nearly in green and gold paper. It was adorned with a red ribbon which was tied into a large bow at the top. A paper tag was attached to the side. Lucy squinted at the writing, but couldn't work out what was written. She hadn't really learned to read properly yet.
     "Can you read this?" She called down the corridor to nobody in particular. Keith sighed, sensing this as his cue. He made his way to the front door. Lucy stepped aside to let her brother pass. He crouched down by the package.
     "A Christmas gift. Take care of it and enjoy! Lots of love, the Clarke family. XX." He read aloud. His sister have him a puzzled look.
     "What that mean?" She asked. Keith sighed, racking his brain for a way to explain the message in the simplest way possible.
     "Presents." He decided eventually. Lucy squealed and began bouncing up and down in excitement.
     "Mummy! Daddy! Presents!" She cheered. Their parents came down the corridor and took the package from Keith.
     "How wonderful! We haven't had nearly enough presents this year, don't you agree, Lucy?" Keith's father joked. Lucy nodded enthusiastically.
     "Who's it from?" His mother mused.
     "A joint gift from the Clarkes. They finally decided to get us a present back this year." Keith said dryly.
     "Let's open it, shall we?" His father suggested. Lucy giggled and ran down to the living room, followed by her mother and father. Keith lingered by the doorway. Something about the gift was... off-putting. First of all, nobody had been to deliver it, which was weird enough: the Clarkes lived miles away- they had moved out some time ago. The only connection they had to them was Keith's mother, who was one of the Clarke's colleagues. Besides, the Clarkes never, ever, sent them a present back. And what on earth did "take care of it" mean?
     "Keith, you coming?" His mother called from the living room.
     "Yeah." He replied. He cast one last wary look outside before shutting the door behind him.

      The Clarke household had been dead for days. Flies buzzed around their decomposing bodies, with were bent at odd angles, some of their clothes stained with old blood. There were the scraps of green and gold wrapping paper strewn on the floor, along with a long red ribbon.
      Once Lucy gas opened the gift and made a complete mess of the wrapping paper, they all got a look at what was inside. A beautifully crafted nutcracker stood proudly atop the table, its wooden body sculpted to the tiniest detail like the reflection of light in its eyes.
     "Wow. It's incredible." Keith's mother breathed.
     "More like creepy." He muttered. He swore he could see its eyes following him around. The light reflected in its eyes matched the Christmas lights behind them. They looked like they were moving with the angle you looked at it and which way it was turned. Actually reflecting the light in the room.
     "Come on, Keith. Stop complaining. Can't you be excited or grateful for once?" His mother scolded.
     "I just don't like it. It's weird." He said, before leaving the room. He thought he could feel the nutcracker's eyes on the back of his neck as he walked out.

      The Miller family decided to give the nutcracker away. Ever since it had arrived on their doorstep, bad things were happening. As if it brought bad luck. At first they'd dismissed it. It could be chance, they'd said. But whenever they left the house, their bad luck seemed to fade. Like it emanated from the nutcracker.
      Keith's mother was also very superstitious, so eventually, after a lot of nagging, Keith and his mum had managed to convince his father to give the nutcracker away. They took a walk through the nearby woods, carrying the nutcracker with them, and threw it in a stream to be carried far, far away. They all watched as it flowed down the creek before disappearing from sight.

      The next morning, it was back. The nutcracker was sitting on the dining table, as it had before. That's when the Millers began to take this affair more seriously. They tried burning it, smashing it, sawing it in half. Any method of destroying it that they could think of. And yet to no avail. It appeared each morning, back at its spot. Whenever Keith walked by it nowadays, he was a dangerous glint in its glassy eyes. A look which made Keith feel that it had had enough.
      Keith's mother came to the conclusion that the object may have been haunted or possessed by some spirit. But as far-fetched as it sounded, they were getting desperate and by this point, anything went. She was in charge of the research and had decided to try and perform an exorcism. Poor Lucy had no clue what was going on.
      Finally, they were ready. They had all the necessary equipment for expelling potential demons and were going to put it to the test. To end this, once and for all. Lucy was downstairs, locked safely in her room and away from the nutcracker. Keith's father descended down the stairs to fetch it.
      A high-pitched caused him to stop dead in his tracks. Then he ran faster than he'd ever ran before.
     "Lucy. Lucy!" His father yelled. He threw himself against her bedroom door, but he couldn't get in. It was locked from the inside. They didn't have a lock on the inside. He tried to twist the lock on his side, but it wouldn't budge. He pushed against the doorknob, trying to turn it. He could hear more screams from behind the door. Something was on the other side of the door, and it was stopping him from getting in. After what was far too long, he managed to burst into his daughter's room.
      The nutcracker was standing beside Lucy's body. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling, neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. A stream of blood trickled from the corner of her lip. The nutcracker's head slowly, slowly turned to look at the man. A murderous glint shone in its eyes. The time for playing games was over.
      Keith squeezed his eyes shut as he heard screams ringing out from downstairs. He and his mother clung onto each other, trembling. The screams seemed to drag on forever, before they stopped. All he could hear was silence. And the quiet creak of wooden limbs behind him.

     "Who is it?" asked Tim Harolds, having heard the doorbell ring. He opened the door and looked down at the floor. Confusion spread across his face. A package sat on the doorstep. A slip of paper on it read;
From your cousins, Keith and Lucy. Look after it and enjoy!

      A man in red and white attire sat on a large chair by a crackling fire. A long sheet of paper was held in his hands and trailed onto the floor. Written in a scrawl on the top of the list was the title 'Naughty List'. The man took a goose-feather quill and dipped it in a vial of red ink. He crossed out the name 'Harolds' on the list. If you'd been able to read the whole list, you'd have been able to see the surnames 'Miller' and 'Clarke' crossed out in the same red ink, and the many, many people before them.