Ny's Writing Blog ✍️

PART I — THE CAROLERS WHO NEVER LEFT

Evergreen Hollow looked perfect in December—fresh snow, glowing lights, peppermint air. But beneath the decorations, the town held a tradition no one spoke of.

Every year on December 13th, The Carolers returned.

They were once a group of townspeople who froze to death in a blizzard decades ago. Now they walked the streets again—skin frost-burned, lips cracked open like torn wrapping paper, and voices echoing with hollow cheer.

This year, the Matthews family heard the first knock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Emily Matthews peeked through the window and saw four figures in tattered Victorian clothing, frozen smiles stretched too wide. One held a lantern with a flame that burned blue. Another carried a songbook stained red.

“We bring holiday joy,” they chimed.

When the family didn’t answer, the carolers began to sing. The sound drilled into the house like shards of ice, shaking the ornaments off the tree.

Suddenly the front door blew open, and the carolers glided inside.

Emily watched in terror as the tallest one grabbed her father’s head between its brittle hands. Its fingers splintered as it squeezed—yet it smiled wider as her father’s skull cracked like a gingerbread cookie, spraying blood across the Christmas stockings.

Her mother tried to run, but the smallest caroler opened its rotten mouth and exhaled a blizzard of glassy ice shards, shredding her flesh like wrapping paper.

Emily screamed.

And the carolers paused.

“You will join the choir soon,” the leader whispered, placing its icy hand against her cheeks.

The cold sank deep.

Too deep.