Chapter three!

The Doctor, as usual, was right. The Mall was by far the boringest most uninteresting place that he had ever visited. Filled with gossiping human teenage girls, tired adults and lots and lots of merchandise. (But not even good merchandise. If it was merchandise, the least that anyone could do was sell good merchandise.)

In fact, he felt like it might be more enjoyable to rip his (rather beautiful, as he might say himself) hair strand by strand out of his scalp. Clara didn't seem to notice his discomfort, she just looked happy to not have to carry all her purchases on her person. Otherwise she probably would be in the same, if not more, discomfort. In even more fact, the time traveling alien wondered why he had agreed to come here. Why didn't he just take control and steer his TARDIS to some random planet?

Because Clara was the boss. And there was no changing that.

They were currently inside a ornaments store. And he kept knocking into things (courtesy of Clara's purchases), earning an annoyed look from the employees of the store. The Impossible Girl was picking out an ornament for her grandmother, and so he wandered off further into the store where he came face to face with the strangest human Christmas-esque display that he had ever seen in his incredibly long lifetimes.

"Clara...?"

There was no response. She was so entangled in her ornament choosing. Well, that or she was too far away.

He stepped closer to the display, eyeing the strange looking dolls. They were rather small, with red felt bodies and tiny heads, in which huge blue eyes were painted on. They probably looked harmless to the random passer by but The Doctor was not a random passerby. There was something creepy about them. Maybe it was the way that they smiled. Their piercingly white smiles made The Doctor want to cringe or look away.

And then something very strange happened.

One of the dolls blinked at him.

Maybe it was the fact that he was incredibly exhausted from carrying all of Clara's packages around. Maybe it was the fact that he was so bored that his imagination was yelling stupid ideas at him until he believed one of them. But knowing the fact that danger followed the madman with the blue box wherever he set foot, the chances were slim that either of those things were the case.

"Clara!"

She appeared at the end of the isle. "What is it?"

He just pointed at the display.

Clara looked annoyed. "So what? It's just some Elf on the Shelf?"

He shook his head at her.

She looked at the dolls. Nothing moved. Time seemed to slow down, as she searched for what The Doctor was trying to get her to see. Silence.

The Doctor gasped again, this time grabbing Clara's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Doctor, I'm not seeing anything."

He looked at her in shock.

"The elves, Clara Oswald. The elves are moving."

She turned to look at the dolls again. And low and behold, one turned its head and looked at her. And blinked. And the rest of the blood colored dolls followed suit, their eyes fixed on The Doctor and his companion.

Clara could barely mutter an "oh my" before the duo promptly turned and half walked, half ran all the way back to the TARDIS.

Yes, okay Elf on the Shelf is pretty dang scary. I don't know about you, but I think they are pretty scary. And what's a better gift to my readers than scary? Please don't forget to favorite, follow, and most importantly tell me what you think of this story in the comments! Thanks a lot!

~Matteo :33