He Sees You When You're Sleeping

24th December- Hanging The Stockings

She woke up to her baby wailing.
"Harry? Harry, lovey?"
She turned on the ProBabyWatch camera and looked at it in confusion. The cradle was empty, and the window was open. 'Harry? Harry, where are you, sweetie?' Her voice began to rise in worry.
She could still hear him, but he was definitely not there. Standing up, she padded to the hook and put on her dressing gown. The crying rose, punctuated by loud sobs and screams, and she ran out of her room. What if it's... an intruder or something? Keep quiet. Maybe it'll help. Harry sounded as if he was somewhere downstairs. She rationalised. Maybe he... went to find me or something. But I'm upstairs from him and he's only just started walking. The sick feeling in her stomach was drowning common sense. If only Edward was here, the son of a... no. That's not a good example for the children. Anyway, he would tell me I was just being silly.
She tiptoed into the living room and her heart caught in her throat. She hid behind the Christmas tree, biting her tongue to stop herself from shouting for Harry.
A dark figure stood in the centre of the room, holding her little boy. Something sharp glinted in its free hand. She found herself absolutely powerless as his screams and sobs hiccuped, but though she wanted to, she somehow was sure that if she showed herself, Harry had no chance. The man in red- she was confident he was male- made a sudden movement and Harry abruptly stopped wailing. Her eyes widened and she clapped her hand over her mouth, coming to the obvious conclusion. The man strode over to the mantelpiece where the stockings hung, and stood with his back to the tree. She craned to see what he was doing, but couldn't quite see. She looked away, unable to watch. When she gathered the courage to look again, he had vanished. A cloud of soot descended from the chimney.
When she was sure the man had gone, she rushed out from behind the tree. 'Harry! HARRY! Are you... where are you?' She was almost hysterical, and started to gulp down air, her chest heaving. She made her way towards the stocking. A million years couldn't have prepared her for what she saw.
Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright in the bed. She was sweating hard and her sheets were twisted on the floor. She took a second to gather her breath. She looked to the ProBabyWatch. A small hump under the covers flushed away her fears, and she let out a sigh of relief.
She made her way down to Harry's room. The window was closed. She smiled fondly,
"Harry, you gave me a scare last night. You silly little-" she pulled the blanket off the lump. Coal had been placed ever so carefully to resemble a sleeping child. Who would take the time to do this so intricately?
Without time to register the thought, she skidded down the stairs, almost tripping over her own feet. She looked around the living room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That was until she saw a shape in the stocking. It had been empty the night before- she'd been planning to put Harry's presents in long after he was asleep. Her breath caught in her throat. Tears began to sting her eyes.
"No, no, no. Please, no." She murmured, her breaths growing shallow. She rose a trembling hand towards the rim of the stocking. The white fur brushed against her skin as if warning her not to look. Dismembered arms and legs lay tangled inside. And she could recognise the face.

And a second (mainly written by Devastated)-

Christmas Eve. Finally. Four stockings were hung under the fireplace, decorated with small silver snowflakes sown onto the red fabric.
     "Tomorrow morning there will be some nice treats in your stockings. Now go to sleep, because you need a lot of rest. Tomorrow is your first Christmas, isn't that exciting? We'll be spending it together as a family; me, your dad, your sister Eve your brother Joe and grandma and grandpa, and of course you two!" Said the mother as she tucked her babies into their cots. She pulled the blankets over them, before she kissed them goodnight and walked to her room.
      The parents' bedroom door creaked open. The mother walked down the corridor to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror to clean off her makeup. And then she screamed. The tissue she was holding fell to the floor.

      It was 4:00 am. Time to fill the stockings.
     "Linda?" called Steven for his wife. After a silence passed, Steven sighed and rose from iso bed and put his slippers on. He bent down under the bed where a bag of presents lay. Steven grabbed the sack and crept downstairs while humming quietly to himself. The sky was still dark, and the sun was yet to rise. Steven yawned loudly. It was too early for him for his liking. Even the babies were asleep and not crying. He smiled to himself as he thought of his little boys, so small and fragile.
      Steven reached the stockings and opened them to begin loading the presents. A sudden blood-curdling scream escaped his lips. Stuffed inside the stockings were his two sons, their  heads cut off. Their limbs were cut off, and blood dripped from the bottoms of the stockings. Steven knelt down, a tear rolling down his face. He managed to hear a noise amidst his sobbing.
     "Daddy?"
     Steven's head shot up. One of the baby's heads were... moving. Its lips were moving. And it was speaking to him. Steven jumped back., terrified. He watched his two sons climb out of the stockings, no more than bunches of moving limbs. A trail of blood was left behind them and their disembodied arms trailed by their feet.
     "Daddy, daddy, daddy." They whispered in  soft voices. Steven screamed. This must have been some nightmare. There was no other logical explanation. Unless it wasn't logical. And something else was involved. "Daddy good?" Questioned one of the babies, its eyes staring at him. Its eyes which held no former resemblance of the person it had once been. Eyes which threatened to fall from the sockets any second.
     "No, no, no. Stay away from me." Whimpered the father desperately. The babies' heads turned and stared at him. They started crawling towards Steven.
     "Help... help. Please!" Steven cried, throwing his slippers at them in an attempt to make them stop.
     "Daddy. Daddy." was his only reply. His eyes widened in horror as they began to build themselves up. Their heads rose to be rested on their neck, but tilted to the side as if the heads were too heavy for their bodies.
     "Daddy. Come back." chanted one of the children. No- what used to be one of the children.
     "Get away from me. I don't want you."
He hissed in fear. The... creatures were different now. Their eyes fell from their sockets, and blood oozed out. With the eyes rolling on the floor, what was behind them was revealed. They were empty voids staring into nothing. And they changed even more into something terrifying.
      The monsters' lips were pulled into something that may have supposed to be a smile.
     "Daddy sleep now. Like us."
     "Come, daddy." One of the creatures cried. Steven reached the wall, unable to back away any more. Without time to think, he made a sprint for it. He raced to the bathroom and locked him self inside, putting his back to the door. Another scream escaped from him. Ok front of him lay Linda, blood dripping out of her mouth. He turned around to get out of the bathroom, but it was too late for any of that. The babies stood there, next to the door. He was powerless as they crawled over him. Into him. The soft gurgle of laughter was the last thing he heard before the world went dark.