Psycho's Ho-Ho Horrors

Gather Round the Christmas Tree

Gather Round the Christmas Tree

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I woke up that December morning, the sent of pine filled the home and hit my nose immediately. The prefect Christmas tree had been found and harvested the day before. It stood six feet tall; thick, bushy, and full. It's vibrant dark green welcomed me into the log cabins living room.

We'd also gathered the material to make the trees decorations, but the kids would do that once they were up. Various shades of red would be added to the majestic tree, as is our family tradition.

I waited for the coffee to brew and poured myself a cup. The aroma of caffeine dominated the pine. I took a sip and stared out the window. The bitter cup of joe attacked my senses, jolting me to fully awake.

The shed was covered in beautiful white, as was the rest of the mountain side we lived on. I sighed and wondered if the decorations were ready to be brought into the house. It looked cold, and I didn't relish the idea of two trips in the deep snow.

We always poisoned them first. The screams and thrashing tended to frighten the children, and so it was best if they were already dead before letting the kids decorate the tree. It had been a full twenty-four hours, and so I assumed it was safe to make the trip out.

I put the coffee cup on the counter, and threw on my winter gear. My feet sunk through the crispy snow all the way up to my knees. I was relieved to find the young man no longer breathing.

Tossing him over my broad shoulders, I began following my tracks back into the house. My wife was already awake and had lain a tarp over the living room floor. I plopped the body in the center, then went back to my coffee.

"I'm surprised the kids are still asleep." my wife said, "Usually their up first, excited to start."

I nodded my head before taking another sip.

"I'll wake them." I told her while sitting my cup down again and heading to their room.

My children shared a room, and both my son and daughter were still sleeping soundly. I smiled at their peaceful faces before jumping on my son's bed.

"WAKE UP! It's time to decorate the tree!" I yelled while bouncing on the bed.

Both children jumped in surprise. Once my words registered, they bolted out the bedroom door and into the living room. My baby girl, no more than seven sat bouncing on the dead mans chest excitedly. My nine year old boy was in the kitchen begging his mother for a knife.

"Hang on! I'm working on it!" I heard my wife exclaim before she appeared in the living space, two knives in hand, our son right on her heels.

"I wanna make the first cut!" he pleaded.

My wife handed me a knife before scooping our daughter into her lap and plopping next to the cadaver. I sat down on the opposite side and my son climbed into my lap.

"Please daddy!" he begged.

"Alright," I replied while chuckling, "just remember to cut from here," I pointed to the top of the mans chest, "to here." I finished while gliding my finger down to his lower abdomen.

My son took the knife from me, and I watched with pride as he made an expert incision. When he was done my wife and I pulled the skin back to reveal the organs inside.

"Alright kiddos, get to work." I joked while helping the boy from my lap.

Both the children dug into the sticky gore and began pulling pieces away.

"Can you help me daddy?" my daughters small voice sounded while she held onto one end of the larger intestines.

"Of course sweetheart." I cooed while picking her up and spinning.

She giggled with glee and we draped the long bodily tissue around the tree like tinsel. My son was stringing the organs and sprayed a mist of blood onto the needles. My wife sat hacking away at the arms and legs.

By time we were done, the tree was beautiful. The lush green bristles sparkled and gleamed with deep red dew drops. The intestines wound around the tree in a magical way, turning slightly purple with its exposure to oxygen, illuminated by the strands of red and white lights. Various organs were hanging from the tree like ornaments, as well as fingers, toes, ears, eyes, etc. The arms and legs were attached as a topper, and the various bones littered the tree in a dull white. Only the head went unused.

"This will make an excellent centerpiece." my wife declared as she placed the head on top of the dinner table.

I only smiled while watching my family enjoy the holidays. We were all covered in crimson red, but even in our filthy state we were happy.

It was going to be a perfect Christmas.

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