The night was as dark as pitch, nothing willing to emerge from the darkness; not even the moon and stars themselves had the strength to do so. The only source of light came from the nightlight plugged into the wall, a small yellow flower with a happy face painted in the centre fought against the dark with all it's might, illuminating the small room with all the power it could muster. The young girl was sleeping soundly under her pink-stripped sheets, heat emanating from her body, a small smile on her face. Snow was falling outside her window, the curtains thrown open so she could see the sun shinning on the newly lain snow the next morning the instant she woke up. The room was silent, her breathing only heard by the animals that surrounded her on the bed. Her father told her that they would protect her from the monsters under her bed and she believed it with all her heart.
She was dreaming at the moment, rolling towards her door, images of Christmas flashing behind her eyelids. Her smile dropped swiftly though, her face scrunching up as a terrible smell caught her nose. It smelled of burning meat, ash, and ginger with something that she just couldn't put her finger on. Rolling over again she stirred from her sleep, her consciousness slowly rising to the surface of her mind. Even though she was only six years old, she knew the feeling of someone watching you.
Cautiously she turned towards her door again, her back facing the light blue wall of her room. Slowly she opened on green eye, telling herself that nothing was there, that she was just imagining the feeling deep within her soul. Her eyes flew open, a faint gasp of air escaping her lungs as he saw the man kneeling beside her bed.
His face was black, not like those people from Africa that her father had told her about, but black like the sky. His eyes were white, hanging in the blackness like two orbs, pure white and taunting. He was wearing odd clothing, as if it was hundreds of years old. He looked like one of the people on her mothers books, the ones about a young girl and boy who fell in love and died together; her mother's book about Shakespeare. His clothes were also black, lined with crimson ribbon that flowed like blood. He was staring at the girl, his white eyes seeming to suck her in.
The girl was on the verge of hyperventilating, her tiny hands clutching at the frame of her bed, nearly ripping through the fabric of her sheets. The man cocked his head as if the actions of the girl confused him in some way.
"Do you know who I am?" The man finally spoke, his perfect white teething flashing in the light from the smiling flower. The light shone on half of his face, his skin shining like polished onyx. The girl made not a sound, a minuscule movement of her head showing her denial of her knowledge.
I man focused his gaze on her once again, the lack of irises making shivers run down the girls spine. "My name Zwarte Piet, but most people know me as Black Peter."
This caught the girl's attention. She had been told stories when she was young, but she never thought them to be true. The fables were about as true as Santa Claus and the Easter bunny, both which she knew with great pride that neither where real. But here he was, standing in her bedroom, as real as the nose on her face.
Her silence must have been a queue for the man to continue for he leaned in close to the girl, mere inches from her face. The smell had intensified now, the strange smell getting almost unbearable, making the girl swallow in order not to gag.
The man whispered, low enough for only the girl to hear, "You haven't been an entirely good girl have you?"
The girls heart rate escalated. How could he know that? No one knew, not even the little boy she had stolen from knew that his money was gone. A few beads of sweat burst across her forehead, her hands becoming clammy. She shifted uncomfortably under her blankets, suddenly feeling a lot colder than the air in the room.
"Haven't you?" The mans voice was threatening, cold and hard. His eyes bore into hers, daring her to lie to him.
"Yes." The word was a breath, barely heard by the girl herself but the man still rose to his feet, towering in the room, his head nearly grazing the ceiling.
"You need to come with us." That was when the girl noticed the other men standing in the room surrounding the girl's bed. They were all dressed the same as the other man, their skin just as black. They were silent, unmoving, all towering in the room, eight if she was counting right.
The man held out his hand to the girl, a white glove covering it. This time the girl reacted strongly, shaking her head so violently it threatened to fall right off. She backed herself onto the wall, trying her hardest to sink right through it.
The hand dropped, falling against the black of the mans tights. Silently one of the men from the back walked forward, a sack clutched in his hand. The original one stood in the center of the others, the one with the bag walking towards him from behind. "We could have done this easily."
The girl opened her mouth to scream, the bag falling down on her head. Screams echoed through the room, but no one heard a thing. The girl was in complete darkness, not even the faint light from the flower could penetrate through the darkness. The girl become silent as the smell hit her once again, passing out as she realized what it was.
It was the smell of burning flesh.
Her parents found her room empty the next day, the nightlight smashed against the ground, the face ground out into dust. There were nail marks on the wall, small but deep, blood in the cracks. Her sheets were messed up, hanging off the bed as if they were kicked off in a panic.
It didn't matter how long or far they searched, she was never seen of again.
A/N: So this is the beginning of a Christmas story that I will be doing. I shall be posting a chapter a day starting December 1st and ending December 24th. This is just a preview to what is to come.
I don't own anything that I shall be writing about, but who can own a legend after all? I shall be explaining more later, so don't worry about that.
The song I am using for this fic is 'This Time Of the Year' by Project 86. You should really listen to it to get the best effect of this story.