A Christmas Horror Story Read Online Free Page A

Henrietta throw back the blanket and give Alice the meanest of looks.
    ‘Yes?’ she said through gritted teeth. Alice pulled a sulking face, her bottom lip drooping as much as her dark eyes, and with her blonde hair in pigtails, Alice looked cuter than ever. Henrietta had always considered Alice to be a sister. Henrietta was ten years old, hair as black as raven feathers, skin as pale as snow. She had always felt obliged to look after the younger ones coming to the orphanage. Their sad and fretful faces pulled on something deep within her. So when Alice walked through those large, foreboding doors into the hallway, flanked by the nuns and wearing rags, Henrietta’s heart melted.
    It was dark in the dormitory and the gas lamps on the ornate wooden walls only cast the dimmest of shadows. Henrietta’s eyes adjusted to the gloom. She peered at row upon row of tiny beds disappearing into the shadows; each one had dishevelled blankets and empty pillows.
    ‘Where is everyone?’ Henrietta asked.
    ‘I told you, you have to come and see. Father Christmas is here!’ Alice explained, grinning a missing-teeth smile.
    ‘Is this some kind of joke? Because if Sister Madeline finds everyone hiding then it will be the whip for sure’.’ All of the two hundred or so girls in Our Sweet Lady Orphanage had at one time or another felt the whip, a metre-long piece of cane used to punish any unladylike or ungodly behaviour. Offences were anything from not curtsying when a nun walked by, to forgetting to wash behind the ears.
    ‘It’s not a joke. I swear on my mother’s soul, whoever she was’,’ Alice promised, holding her hand in the air. ‘Father Christmas came and promised us all we’d have parents, for Christmas.’
    Of course Henrietta didn’t believe in Father Christmas or miracles of any kind. According to the teachings of the nuns, Christmas was for remembering God’s sacrifice and not for praying to mythical beings for selfish reasons such as presents and gifts. Being abandoned by parents and being dragged up in an orphanage as unwanted children, the girls were taught that they were orphaned because of sins of past lives. That they had been cruel and thankless, so now they were unloved and only by hard work and punishment could their souls be cleansed. This had given Henrietta a less than magical view of life.
    ‘All right, Alice. Show me where everyone is.’
    ‘I told you—’ she smiled ‘—with Father Christmas’.’ And she took Henrietta’s hand.
    Both children walked, in their nightgowns, through the dark corridors of the orphanage. Paintings of Mary and baby Jesus looked down at the pair, illuminated by the gas lamps. Past where the nuns slept they crept, until finally they walked into the dining room. The dining room was huge with a large wooden table that ran the length of the room. Huge dark velvet curtains kept out the moonlight; however, more sets of gas lamps lit the room with their flicker.
    Alice and Henrietta, bare feet padded the length of the room.
    ‘So some girls heard Father Christmas calling them. They woke others and followed his voice here,’ Alice explained.
    ‘How do you know it was Father Christmas?’ Henrietta enquired.
    ‘Because he’s in the fireplace silly, and we heard bells. They jingled. Some girls went to get goodies from the larder.’
    At the end of the room, there sat a large white marble fireplace. Its hearth was dark and cold, darker than Henrietta had ever seen before. Alice let go of her hand.
    ‘Everyone else has gone in there.’ ‘She pointed. ‘Father Christmas took them to new families.’
    ‘I’m not sure,’ Henrietta replied, looking into the gloom of the fireplace. There was something about that that deep darkness that felt unnatural. It had shape and shined as if it had scales.
    ‘Alice?’ Henrietta whispered. ‘I don’t think that is…’
    ‘
Kommen nach der Weihnachtsmann, Kleinen,
’ hissed the voice, echoing from the fireplace. And it chilled