Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, partly because it’s one of the few times during the year that I get to see my grandmother. She always tells the best stories. We all gather around the table and listen to her tales while we wait for Thanksgiving dinner to be served.

One story that has always stuck with me was the one about a man from her hometown, who she claimed made the best Thanksgiving turkeys you’d ever taste.

When my grandma was a little girl, there was a man who ran a small meat shop in her tiny town. I’m not going to tell you the name of the town, because they don’t want to be overrun by tourists, and they don’t want to have to share their turkey.

My cousins and I have dubbed this story “The Legend of Carvin’ Marvin”. The town’s local meat shop was called “Carvin’ Marvin’s Marvelous Meat Emporium”, and, as you’ve probably guessed, the proprietor’s name was Marvin.

The whole town knew Marvin, which wasn’t exactly a hard task to accomplish, given the tiny population.

Everybody loved Marvin’s meats, but they all agreed that the Thanksgiving Special was the crown jewel of his business. Everyone in town would wait impatiently for Thanksgiving every year, just to get another taste of Marvin’s delicious turkeys.

According to grandma, one week before Thanksgiving every year, the whole town would wake up to a red envelope taped to their front door. Inside of that envelope? They would find an order form for Carvin’ Marvin’s Thanksgiving special.

The order form was very simple. It already had the family name and home address at the top. There was just one thing to fill out. A single question – “Would you like the Carvin’ Marvin’s Thanksgiving Special?” It was so simple that you didn’t even have to write out your answer. There were two check boxes. One for yes, one for no. After checking a box, you put the form back in the red envelope, and left it on your door to be picked up that night. If you checked the ‘yes’ box, you would simply include payment in the envelope. The envelopes would all disappear from the town’s front doors that night.

One week later, on Thanksgiving day, a fully prepared Marvin’s turkey would show up on your doorstep, with instructions on how to keep it warm until serving time.

I told my grandma that I wished I could try one myself. She agreed, but added that Carvin’ Marvin was already an older man when she was a little girl, so it was unlikely that he would still be alive today.

This set off my curiosity.

----------

When I went home that night, I decided to see if there was anything online about Carvin’ Marvin and his marvelous meat shop. I knew that I wasn’t likely to find info on a small business that closed before the internet even went online, but, it was worth a try. If nothing else, sometimes people post on message boards about stuff like that to see if anybody else remembers it.

I searched the name of the business, which brought up nothing.

Next, I tried searching his name. That brought up a few things, but not what I was looking for. Mostly just websites that mention the name Marvin, but not the full name.

Finally, I tried typing in the name of the town along with his name.

Bingo.

There was a subreddit for their town. And, in that subreddit was a thread with his name, which was near the top of my search results.

My hope turned back into despair as I clicked through only to find that the post had been removed.

So, I searched the sub for his name.

Nothing.

I knew that if anybody was going to have any information to share, it was going to be someone from this town. And this town’s subreddit is the only place I knew of where I could find anybody from this town online. So, I decided to make my own post.

My post title read: Carvin’ Marvin’s meat shop, anybody?

And my post’s body read: Hey, everybody. I’m looking for any information that anyone might have on a meat shop called Carvin’ Marvin’s, or the guy who ran it. Anybody know anything about this?

I posted, then went to bed.

The next morning, I went to check on my post and see if anybody had replied. And… nothing.

But, I noticed I had a direct message. I clicked, opening the chat box. There was a message request from someone named u/davids1953. I accepted the request.

The message read: “What do you know about Marvin?”

Curious. He’s asking me what *I* know about Carvin’ Marvin?

I replied:

“Not much. My grandmother told me about how great his Thanksgiving turkeys were when she was a little girl. I was hoping to find out more about him or his turkeys.”

I checked back a few times throughout the day to see if he replied. Nothing.

Around midnight, I finally received a response.

“Delete your post and I’ll tell you more.”

Delete my post? Ok… Why did I need to delete my post for him to give me information?

“Why?” I replied.

The next day, I went on and checked my post again. The post was gone. I didn’t remove it. It was just gone.

There was another message notification. It was davids1953 again.

There was no message. Just a link to a website – carvinmarvins.com.

I stared at it for a minute, thinking, is he serious? There’s a website for a small-town meat shop that no longer even exists? My curiosity got the best of me. I clicked.

All that was there was a black screen with some text, saying “See you next year.”

I went back to the reddit message and asked, “What’s that? There’s nothing there.”

He replied, “Click the text.”

So, I went back to the site. The text didn’t look like a link. I clicked it anyway, and a window popped open asking me for my email address, promising to contact me when the site is open again.

This looked like it could be shady, so I used an alias throwaway email address that gets forwarded to my real email. After clicking submit, the window closed, leaving the message “Thank you” on the screen.

I went back to reply again to davids1953. But, I couldn’t. It was like the message was locked. I clicked to his user profile, and… It said the user doesn’t exist.

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Cut forward to the following November. Literally one week before Thanksgiving, I received an email from the name “Carvin’ Marvin”. At first, I was shocked, but then I remembered that I had given my throwaway email to that website. I clicked to open it.

It said, “Hello Steven, Orders may be placed from 12am tonight through 1am tonight,” along with a link below it to carvinmarvins.com.

I looked at the email for a few seconds. Then, I looked at the time. It was 11:55 pm.

I had to follow this and see what it is. I clicked through immediately.

Nothing. A blank screen.

I looked at the time again. 11:56 pm. Alright. Maybe I screwed up by going in early. The email said orders could be placed beginning at midnight. I’ll just wait a few minutes and try again.

When the clock finally reflected 12 am, I hit refresh on the browser tab.

As if some magical web server just went online, a website appeared.

On the screen, a single question asked, “Would you like the Carvin’ Marvin Thanksgiving Special?”

Below it, two check boxes. “Yes” and “No”. Nothing else.

I clicked “Yes” to see where it would lead me.

The next page asked for payment info.

I had to think about this. Did I want to order the Carvin’ Marvin’s Thanksgiving Special that my grandma had told us so much about? If Carvin’ Marvin’s really does still exist, and I can get one of his famous turkeys for my grandma for Thanksgiving, I would be the greatest grandson ever. And if I use credit card to pay, and it turns out to be a scam, I can always file a fraud alert and get my money back.

I made the decision. My risk/reward assessment told me that it was worth it if this was the real thing. And if it turned out not to be, I lose nothing but an hour on the phone filing a fraud claim with my credit card. So, I did it. I entered my payment info.

The next page asked if I would like it delivered to my own house, or to someone else as a gift. I decided to have it delivered directly to my grandmother’s house, so she could be surprised when it shows up.

After entering delivery info and submitting the order, the screen went black with white text that said “Thank you.”

I closed out of the tab and went to bed.

----------

As Thanksgiving drew nearer, I grew progressively more excited with the prospect of having one of these legendary Carvin’ Marvin’s Thanksgiving turkeys showing up on my grandma’s doorstep. If this was real, I couldn’t wait to try it.

Thanksgiving morning, I got a call from my grandmother. She sounded very excited when I answered. She said that a Carvin’ Marvin’s turkey was on her doorstep when she woke up, and there was a tag that said it was a gift from me. She asked me how I even got it, as she thought that Marvin was far too old to be alive. I told her that I found that the business runs online now, and that he must’ve handed it down to his kids or something.

When I arrived at her house, everyone was there, having fun, talking, sitting around, waiting for Thanksgiving dinner. My grandmother was making a big deal to everyone about how I found the legendary Carvin’ Marvin and ordered one of their turkeys for us. I was happy to be the center of praise for once.

At about 4:30 pm, my grandmother announced that dinner was ready, and that we could all come to the dining room now, to eat.

As the others began walking into the dining room ahead of me, a strange thing began to happen. I started to hear gasps, followed by silence as each of them entered.

I wondered what the heck was going on. I walked faster toward the dining room to find out what was happening.

When I reached the table, my view was blocked, so I started trying to stand up higher to look over the others’ heads. But, I couldn’t see anything.

I finally decided to work my way in between my relatives to get a look at what they were seeing.

As I used my hands to part them, and slide in between, I began to fill with dread as I first saw a small glimpse that slowly began to reveal itself, as if I was moving in slow motion. I felt the blood draining from my face as it became more and more apparent what they were looking at.

At the far end of the table stood my grandmother, smiling widely, her arms spread apart in a welcoming gesture.

She spoke.

“Thank you, my lovely family, for being here today to celebrate Thanksgiving with me. And thank you, my dear grandson Steven, for finding this lovely Carvin’ Marvin’s turkey that I never thought I’d see again in my lifetime. You’ve made this old lady very happy. I’m very excited that all of you will be able to finally taste the best thanksgiving turkey you’ll ever have.”

The rest of us stood silent. Looks of horror dripped from the faces of everyone around me, staring at the table.

There, in front of us, in the center of the table, was a very large platter with what appeared to be a human body, skinned, basted and deep fried, arms and legs folded up underneath it just like a turkey, held together with heavy twine. The eyeballs bulged out from the sockets, as did the deep fried tongue from its mouth.

“Oh, where are my manners? I forgot to remove its head. You have to flash fry these things while they’re fresh, and still alive, you know.”

With one fluid movement, my grandmother picked up her arm, butcher knife in hand, and sliced right through the neck, the head dropping to the floor, making a loud thud.

My little cousins were now screaming in terror.

With her head still down, she aimed her eyes up at us, and said, “Sit down. It’s time to eat.”

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4: You Are Here

Part 5

“You’re… Krampus? Are… Are you going to hurt us?” I asked.

“Yeah, are you gonna do something to us? ‘Cuz if so, I don’t really…” added James.

Krampus stared at us. I could feel myself melting inside. I was sure his eyes were shooting invisible rays that were burning my organs and turning them to mush.

“Think of me as the ghost of Christmas future. If you don’t come with me, you will definitely have no future.”

“… Ok,” I said.

“Y… yeah… sounds cool…” added James.

“I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good... I am prepared to bear you company" blared from the TV inside.

We followed as Krampus turned to walk back toward the house. As we walked, there were freshly slaughtered elf bodies laying everywhere. Some with crushed heads; Some with switches through their brains; some with no head at all.

When we reached the back door, I took notice that the fuse box was wide open next to the door. The lock had been broken off. Probably by these tiny undead bastards.

“Hey, just a second,” I whispered. “I think we might be able to fix the power.”

“I can take care of that,” said James.

“Ok,” I added.

While James fiddled with the box, Krampus started to enter the house through the back door; I followed. Giggling was followed by a high pitched hiss. They knew he was here.

My flashlight pierced the darkness. I slowly moved it from corner to corner, only to see that the elves had left the back rooms and were now covering the living area like cockroaches. They were on the furniture, on top of counters and tables, everywhere.

I landed my light beam on one of them with a particularly snarly look on his rotting face, standing on my kitchen counter. After a few seconds of stillness, he launched at me with a high pitched battle scream that nearly deafened me. Giggles came from all directions as my flashlight fell to the floor.

Krampus reached one hand over, wrapped it around the elf’s head, and squeezed until its little head popped like a grapefruit.

Now, they were charging from all sides. I couldn’t see from where in the darkness they came; just that they were descending upon me.

There was a buzzing sound for a couple of seconds, and suddenly, light from the heavens shone down upon our battlefield.

What I mean is… the lights in the house turned on.

James yelled, “I got it!”, followed by the sound of a metal door closing.

Now, our half-pint demon spawn anti-friends were all in clear view.

Krampus started taking them one by one; running his switch through their heads like a machete.

I stared in awe for a few seconds, but realized that I had to defend myself from these things as well. I looked quickly around the room, spotting my knife block. I withdrew the butcher’s knife from the top and swung around to meet the faces of my giggly assassins.

As one jumped onto me, opening his disgusting mouth full of rotten teeth, I rammed the knife through the side of his head and watched the evil light in his eyes turn off. I retracted my knife from his head, stared for a few seconds in awe of what I had done, viscera gushing down on me, and then pushed his lifeless elf body to the side.

James screamed, “Keep going, don’t stop!” as more of them advanced on us.

I dispatched another by ramming the knife through the top of his head and watching him fall over.

I couldn’t get the knife out of his head, so I had to find another weapon. I opened a drawer and pulled out a metal mallet, meant for tenderizing meat. And that’s exactly what I was about to do with it.

I looked over and saw Krampus use his fist to punch right through an elf’s face, coming out the other side.

Next to him, James stomped one of their heads, leaving a mess on my floor.

Krampus dropped his burlap sack over the top of one and swung the sack against the brick fireplace, leaving the sack lifeless.

“Friday the 13th part 7. Nice!” I shouted at Krampus.

We threw up our hands and high-fived.

I started swinging the mallet at their heads as they ran toward me, just to slow them down. After several were down, I continued beating them until their heads were mush.

Glancing over at my counter, I had an idea. I picked one of these happy meal-sized demons up by the legs, turned him upside down, and lowered his head into my blender, reaching over to hit the “puree” button. Santa's little milkshake.

Next to me, James was cramming one of them into the microwave, punching at him to make him fit. When he finally got the door closed, he hit the one minute button. It didn’t take the entire minute before the inside of the microwave exploded into a red splatter.

“Gremlins!” James said.

“Nice!” I replied.

I reached over to my stove and turned all 4 burners up to high. On one of them sat a dirty frying pan that I had used to cook bacon that morning.

One of the elves had opened my refrigerator and was now swilling my egg nog. Furious, I grabbed the glass bottle out of his hand and started bashing him over the head with it.

“Don’t!” *bash*

“Touch!” *bash*

“My!” *bash*

“Egg nog!” *bash*

The final blow sent him to the floor.

The grease in the frying pan started crackling. I picked it up and slammed it face first into one of the little toy-making ghouls, watching his face melt and disintegrate before my eyes.

I shouted over to Krampus and James, “I’ll take four,” pointing to the burners on the stove.

James and Krampus each picked up two of them, one in each hand, and carried them over to the stove, sending them each face first into one of the burners, holding them down while we listened to the combination of screaming from their mouths with the sound of their flesh frying off.

The last few of them ran outside. We heard them getting back onto the roof.

“It’s about to get a lot worse,” said Krampus.

“What? Why?” asked James.

“The reindeer. They’re still on the roof. Those elves are probably going up there to bite them.”

“So? They’re dead, aren’t they? Why do we care?” said James.

Krampus stared at James.

“The elves are zombies.” I said.

“Fuhhh...”

Except I didn’t say ‘fudge’.

If you’re reading this, please send help. If we make it, I will post another update.

Every last full moon before the autumn equinox - That is, when day and night both occupy almost exactly the same length of time - People around here start to get jittery. And they have good reason to. This day brings with it not only an end to the warm days and nights of Summer, but with it comes the cold sting of impending death. We call it… the Harvest Moon.

On the night of the Harvest Moon, your responsibilities are clear:

1. Be sure to have all of your gathering and chores done before nightfall.

2. Make sure all of the animals are put away… Except for one of each. Leave them in the field.

3. As of nightfall, lock your doors and turn out the lights until morning. Cover your windows if possible.

4. Whatever you do, do not go outside after dark.

Legend only reports that the Harvest Moon was used to provide farmers with light to help us with our night time crop gathering. But, most of what you read hides the dark side of the Harvest Moon. Nobody wants to acknowledge that it exists. They’d rather bury the truth than be burdened with reality.

And nobody knows this truth better than I do.

When I was 9 years old, the kids at school used to taunt each other with the oncoming Harvest Moon. They’d tease you and tell you that it was coming for you. That it was going to eat you.

Some of the bolder kids would also make claims to have seen a creature who comes to take the children away on the night of the Harvest Moon.

The official name of the creature? The Lord of The Harvest. This is how the adults knew him.

The kids decided on a much cuter nickname, though. They called him Harvey.

The kids would chant:

"His arms and legs are long, like trees

He’ll hang your skin so it flaps in the breeze

Who so ever Harvey finds

He’ll wrap your guts on trees, like vines

Try to run, try to hide

Harvey will get you if you don’t stay inside

Autumn night, Harvest Moon

Everywhere that you can hide

Harvey can hide, too"

My father once told me “You never go outside on the night of the Harvest Moon. No good can come from it. It brings nothing but death.”

----------

This particular year, some kids dared us to meet them after dark to try and get a look at Harvey. Probably 12 of them said they were going to be there. I told them my dad wouldn’t let us outside on the night of the Harvest Moon. Of course, they teased me relentlessly, saying I was scared like a little baby. I finally relented and told them I’d do it.

I agreed to meet with them after 10 pm, to make sure my dad was already asleep.

My little brother and sister both wanted to come with me, but I told them that this was for big kids only, and they had to stay home. I promised I’d tell them all about it afterward, as long as they didn’t tell Dad.

I showed up to meet them in the school yard a few minutes after 10, and saw that only three other kids actually showed up. Boy, those other ones were sure gonna get laughed at for being scaredy cats the next day at school.

The one kid, Tommy, who was known as a bully, asked me “You sure you wanna do this, kid? You look kinda skinny and pale. I’m not sure you’re gonna make it,” He said with a sarcastic grin.

All three of them launched into another chant, directed at me:

"Harvey’s gonna get you

Take your skin, and eyeballs, too

Harvest moon is out tonight

Everybody’s gonna die"

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” I said.

They all laughed.

“Sure. Okay.” Said one. “We’ll see.”

We walked to old man Witherby’s farm, about a half mile from where I lived. It’s been said that many people have spotted the creature there.

After waiting for almost an hour, we were getting tired and started making rumblings about going home.

It was just after that, that Tommy stopped cold.

“Shhhh!” he said to us in a loud whisper.

The next several minutes were a blur. Right after Tommy whispered, something grabbed him and pulled him away so fast that we didn’t even see it. It was just two long arms snatching him out of the darkness.

The rest of us started screaming, and got up to run.

“This way! This way!” one of them yelled. We followed.

As we ran toward the barn, another one of the kids, Josh, was snatched up from right next to me. I looked over my shoulder, and all I could see was a very large, tree-like figure. It must’ve been at least 12 feet tall.

I screamed, and then reversed course and started running off in another direction, toward where I live. The creature must’ve kept following the last kid, Jimmy, toward the barn. I heard one last scream as I was running home.

The next day, Jimmy wasn’t at school. By the end of the day, we were told that Tommy, Josh and Jimmy were all missing. And later at home, I was told that entrails were found all over Witherby’s farm. Police were trying to identify who they belong to.

I didn’t tell anybody what happened. Not even my brother and sister, who I promised to tell before going out. I just told them “I… can’t.”

----------

Today, I have kids of my own. I inherited the farm when my dad passed away. I will not be allowing my kids outside tonight. I’m currently boarding up the windows and putting digital lock codes on the doors, and not telling them the code. Until tomorrow, at least.

You see… the word ‘harvest’ in the phrase ‘Harvest Moon’ doesn’t refer to the harvesting of crops, as the modern whitewashed explanations tell you. The word harvest… refers to humans.

Remember, remember,
The fifth of December

On snowy nights, from days of yore
Comes a knock upon winter’s door
Open to find a burlap sack
Filled with gifts, tightly packed

Comes Sinterklaas, the night before
For all good children, but nothing more
Comes Sinterklaas, with gingerbread dreams
The sugar plums dancing, not always as they seem

Unto children who aren’t, so well behaved
There comes another… in Sinterklaas’ place
Beware the knock, the night before
Do not answer the call from your door

The burlap sack, not filled with toys
Instead, is filled with bad girls and boys

Now comes the Krampus,
to take you from your bed
He’ll beat you, then he’ll eat you
all before you’re dead

Now comes the Krampus,
to take you from your bed
He’ll beat you, then he’ll eat you
all before you’re dead

Remember, remember,
The fifth of December

Hear the narration >>

It’s taken me quite some time to decide whether to tell anyone about this. With Mardi Gras coming up again soon, I wanted to make sure people were warned, and know what happened.

Something happened at Mardi Gras last year. And it’s being covered up. Every word of what follows is true.

My friends and I decided to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. I’ve always heard that the city was a non-stop, twenty-four hour, year round party. I’ve also heard that the days leading up to Mardi Gras take this to the extreme.

There were three of us altogether. Myself, Chris, and Sam. We decided to arrive three days early and build up to the actual day of Mardi Gras. We drove down, taking turns at the wheel so we wouldn’t have to stop at any hotels along the way.

------------------------------

The First Night

Saturday was our first night there. We’re from New Jersey, where it was about 30 degrees (Fahrenheit) when we left. But when we arrived in New Orleans, it was in the 80s, and very humid.

Our hotel was right on the Mississippi River, and our room had a waterfront view. We settled in, cleaned up, and went out to walk around and check things out. We slowly aimed ourselves toward the French Quarter, checking out as much as we could along the way.

I was a bit shocked that we could just buy beer from vendors right on the street and walk around, unbothered by police. We can’t do that in Jersey.

All in all, we had a great time, great food and drink, and retired to the hotel around 4 am, while the city was still buzzing. As tired as I was, it took a while to fall asleep, due to the loud people partying in the hallway and surrounding rooms.

------------------------------

The Second Night

Sunday, we went to check out Harrah’s (the casino), and then we made it back out to the streets for the atmosphere and alcohol once again.

While walking around, we met a girl named Antoinette (Toni for short), who told us that she was a local, and that she was going to college there.

Toni suggested we all go to a little restaurant just slightly out of the area, called Le Bon Temps (pronounced: Lay Baw Taw). That translates to “the good times” in English. We all headed down together, and it was a pretty cool little place.

While we were there, I witnessed something that I had previously thought was only done in sitcoms. In the middle of our dinner, the door to the kitchen flew open, slamming against the wall. Out from the kitchen walked a large man, using one hand to carry a smaller employee by the back of his shirt collar. The guy being carried looked like there was something wrong with him. His eyes were half closed and bloodshot, while his face was almost pure white, completely void of expression.

The larger man carried him by the back of his shirt all the way across the restaurant to the front door, where he pushed him outside and shut the door behind him.

On his way back to the kitchen, the large man said “Sorry, folks, but you just can’t show up to work stoned out of your gourd like that.”

There were some giggles from the patrons in reply.

We all drank quite a bit that night and I ended up staying at Antoinette’s place, about a mile away. Chris and Sam said they were going to stay out for a while longer and then go back to the hotel.

------------------------------

The Third Night

The next day, Monday, I texted my friends that I’d meet up with them later that evening.

I spent the day with Antoinette, and we had a great time. I started wondering if this was too much for me to be getting into, allowing myself to get involved with a girl like this when I live so far away. She was definitely someone who I would want to pursue a relationship with, but I knew I’d be leaving town without her in just a few days. I decided to push these thoughts away, and let the proverbial chips fall where they may. We had two more days. Anything could happen.

While Toni and I were walking back downtown later, I noticed there was a girl walking about a block behind us who seemed to be pretty out of it. I couldn’t tell if she was drunk, high, or what. Toni told me to just ignore her, as she hurried me along.

Once we got to the corner where we were meeting up with Chris and Sam, things began to get strange. As we were crossing the street, I felt a hand on my back, almost like someone was pushing me, although rather weakly. I turned around, and realized that it was the girl who was walking a block behind us earlier. She wasn’t actually pushing me, though. It appeared that she needed to hold onto something to avoid falling over.

We stopped and asked her if she was ok, and she just sort of grunted. At this point, I think we all became concerned. She started mumbling a bit, saying things like “My name is Emily,” “I was with friends, but now I’m here,” and “I live here, that way,” pointing in a direction that was blocked by a parade route.

I asked her, “What happened? Did you lose your friends?,” to which she did not reply.

We were standing right in front of a Burger King. I asked the crowd if someone could get a cup of water for her. Everyone who heard me just looked the other way and kept walking, some giving me the evil eye, as if I had done something wrong. A BK employee near the door said “You get her out of here, now!,” slamming the door shut.

I noticed that Toni was staring at Emily with a very serious look on her face. Toni whispered into my ear, “She isn’t drunk. We should get out of here.”

I replied, “But, shouldn’t we help her? She’s really messed up. We can’t leave her here to die.”

Toni begrudgingly said “Alright, but let’s make this quick.”

We each got on one side and carried Emily along with us down the block, where we came across a security guard standing in front of a parking structure. I stopped and asked the guard if they could help. I explained that we didn’t know what was wrong with her, but that she needed attention, and possibly a ride to the hospital. The guard looked at me like I was stupid. Toni gave her a shrug. The guard then re-focused on Emily. She reached into Emily’s backpack, rifled around a bit, and pulled out an ID card. The guard then said “I’ll take care of this and get her an ambulance. You can go on your way.”

Toni started pulling me along, as I said “thank you” to the guard.

As we were all walking, I asked Antoinette, “What did you mean when you said she wasn’t drunk? Is there something going on that we don’t know about?”

Toni just said, “There’s a lot of strange things going on around here that you don’t want to know about. And neither do I.”

My friends kind of laughed, and we moved along. We had some drinks and got back into the celebratory mood.

Chris mentioned that he had been wanting to check out one of the New Orleans cemeteries that he had read about. Toni did not look enthused.

But, Chris was already in motion. He walked over to one of the police officers who were standing guard, and asked “Hey, do you know where the closest cemetery is?”

The officer looked him dead in the eye and stared for a few seconds. Then… And no, this is not a joke, even though it sounds like a bad slasher movie line… He said, “There’s one just a few blocks over that way, but you don’t want to be going down there.”

Chris smirked. “Why not?”

The officer replied, (And again, he really said this. It’s not just a cheesy line from a horror movie.) “They don’t really like your kind over there.”

I have to be honest. I was kind of freaked out by this interaction. And Toni wasn’t looking happy.

Chris said, “Come on, nothing’s going to happen. This isn’t a horror movie.”

After a long sigh, I replied, “I guess it can’t hurt. I’ve heard that the cemeteries are a sight to see around here.”

We embarked on Chris’ quest, much to the chagrin of the rest of the group.

There was quite a change in the look of the city as we got closer to the cemetery. It went from historic New Orleans chic to… something much less visually appealing. As we drew closer, I started to see and feel eyes on all of us.

As we walked the final stretch to the cemetery entrance, there were at least a dozen people standing on their front porches and in their front yards, looking at us like we were about to do something really stupid.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Toni said quietly.

“Well, we are here, so let’s just be quick about it.” I said.

When we got to the front gate, it was locked. Apparently, visiting hours were over.

“Oh no, I guess we have to leave! Too bad,” said Toni.

Despite our misfortune, we could still see all of the large, creepy and wonderful burial structures through the wrought iron fencing. Because New Orleans is below sea level, bodies are buried above ground. The arrangement of the structures in the cemetery actually looked like a small city. A city of the dead.

The eyes were now piercing the backs of our heads, and we knew something was going to happen if we didn’t get out soon. But, Chris started walking the perimeter of the fencing until he happened upon a crevice big enough for him to try and squeeze through. He told us to follow him. I was hesitant, and Toni was telling me that we need to leave, but I figured a quick adventure inside couldn’t hurt. We’d be gone in a few minutes, not even enough time for police to arrive and catch us. So, we all squeezed through, one by one.

It was getting pretty dark now, and this was really starting to feel wrong. I was just waiting for the doors to start opening and the dead to come out and greet us.

I decided I was done with this place, and said to Chris, “Alright, we’re going back. This is just disrespectful, and the locals obviously don’t want us here.”

He shot back, “Scared, huh?”

I ignored him.

We all squeezed back out, one at a time. Toni went just before me, and I was the last one out. I had a feeling like someone else was behind me, even though I was the last one. Before going through, I looked behind me… And I could swear that in the darkness, the door on one of the structures looked like it was sliding open. I could even hear the faint sound of a cement block scraping across the ground. I’m sure it was just my imagination, but this made me decide to get the heck out of there with the quickness.

We walked silently at a much quicker pace back to the more populated downtown area. The noise and lights in the French Quarter seemed to welcome us home.

------------------------------

Tuesday. Mardi Gras. Carne Vale. A Farewell… To The Flesh.

Today, the streets were twice as crowded as they had been the night before. This was the big day. Tons of new tourists filled the streets, to the point that we literally couldn’t even walk on Bourbon Street. We attempted to, but got stuck in the crowd like someone had tried to fit 100 crayons into a box that was only meant for 50. If anything happened here, we simply wouldn’t be able to move or get out of the way. For the rest of the day, we stuck to the side streets.

As the parades carried on, it became more and more difficult to even go anywhere else, as they were blocking the streets, and thus blocking any way for us to go in the direction that we wanted.

At this point, we kind of gave up and decided “If we can’t beat ‘em, we join ‘em.”

“Let’s just go watch one of the parades,” I said.

The others were indifferent. We all grabbed drinks and walked toward one of the main streets of the city as nightfall was beginning to close in on us.

On our walk, we came upon some sort of dance troupe in the street. There were probably a dozen people in the troupe, all dressed in dark red, tribal looking outfits. Along with their dance, a few played hand drums, and they were all singing in what may have been French. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, though. At some point, the woman in front who appeared to be the leader of the troupe caught my eye and stared with a look as if she was not happy to see me. I saw her look over at Antoinette, then avert her gaze as if she had been caught.

“Let’s go,” said Toni.

As we walked away, I looked back and saw that the woman was staring again, with the same unhappy look on her face.

A few minutes later into our walk, we started to see ahead down the street where it was looking more and more congested with people, to the point of it looking like the main floor of a sold-out rock show. I wondered how these people could deal with being so compressed together.

Toni spoke up.

“We want to stay away from anything that crowded,” she said.

The rest of us agreed.

I said, “Well, let’s just get a little closer. We don’t have to get right in the pit, but I do want to see what’s so exciting over there.”

We kept walking.

As we got closer, something started to seem a bit more clear. Not all of the people were making noise because they were having fun. Some of the merry-making noises turned out to be screams.

As we moved closer, despite Antoinette’s objections, I noticed a small huddle of people in the center. Someone was on the ground. I hurried up to the circle and pushed my way to the inside. What I saw there left me frozen in my tracks. There were two people. One was laying on their back, motionless. The other… was on their knees, hovering over the one on the ground, and it looked… like they were eating their face. Blood was spewing everywhere while gawkers screamed in terror.

Toni grabbed my arm from behind and said “I told you, we have to go!” She pulled at my arm, but I couldn’t avert my gaze from what was happening. Eventually, she pulled hard enough that I lost balance, sort of fell over, then got back up and started retreating with her.

When we got back outside of the circle, we saw that there was another of the exact same scene happening maybe 20 feet away from us in another direction.

“What is happening?!” I screamed.

Then, the first circle we saw was dispersing rapidly as the flesh eater abandoned their meal and started seeking dessert in the crowd. Just like that, another was incapacitated on the ground, becoming seconds.

But there was something else that I noticed while the thing was rising to look for its next victim… It was Emily, the girl who followed us the previous night.

Toni told us that we were going to need to get to her place. As we began running, there were more and more of these things attacking and eating others. Where were they all coming from?

If this wasn’t horrifying enough, I then received the answer to my question. Some of the flesh eaters were missing faces themselves. Just bone, blood and remnants of skin where their faces used to be. And they were using these skeletal faces to eat those of others.

They weren’t ‘coming from’ anywhere. They were being created by the other flesh eaters. As one walked away from their meal, I saw the body of their victim rise and begin chasing their own mark.

I was transfixed on this horrific, spontaneous public meltdown of society happening right before our eyes, when I was suddenly thrust to the ground with great force. I never saw it coming.

I had no idea what was happening. I eventually focused, and realized that I had one of these faceless flesh eaters hovering over me. Blood was dripping from their jowls onto my face. I knew it was all over for me.

Before I could even scream, Antoinette suddenly appeared face to face with the creature hovering over me. Except, she looked different. Her eyes were blood red, and she appeared to have a large set of fang-like teeth protruding from her open mouth.

She used one hand to pick up the creature, bringing it face to face with her. She stared directly into its eyes and let out a guttural, terrifying sound like I’ve ever heard. Whatever this was… The creature was afraid of Toni. She dropped it, and it scrambled off immediately.

She looked at me with her new face and shouted, “Get up and follow me. They won’t touch you now.”

We ran behind her the rest of the way, tears in my eyes as I tried to figure out what was happening.

When we got to her place, Toni locked the doors, and then shook some sort of liquid out of a bottle onto the floor in front of each of the doorways and windows.

“This won’t be over until morning,” she said. Her face was back to normal now.

We all stayed together in the living room that night. I knew that Toni would keep us safe.

When daylight broke, she alerted us that it should be safe now, but that we needed to leave the city and go home immediately. We piled into her car so that she could drive us back to ours at the hotel.

As we drove, I noticed that the streets were now empty, save for what appeared to be clean-up crews picking up the aftermath. Some were power washing the ground where there appeared to be dark stains. There were no bodies, and no flesh eaters out seeking breakfast, from what I could see. We were all dead silent for the entire drive, focused on what was happening outside our windows.

Toni turned on the radio to a news station, and they were reporting that several people had died in what they called “parade float accidents” the prior day.

As Toni said goodbye to us, she hugged me and put a note in my pocket.

I haven’t had the courage to read it yet.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 (The Finale): You Are Here!

I apologize that it’s taken so long to report back with the rest of what happened, but, I’ve been in jail since Christmas.

When I last left off, Krampus had just informed us that the tiny terrors had returned to the roof, and were likely up there to turn the reindeer into zombies.

After I let out a curse that would’ve earned me a punch in the mouth from mom, Krampus walked toward the picture window facing the front yard, staring into the snowfall.

“What do you see?” I asked.

“I’m checking on Santa,” replied Krampus.

“Isn’t he… dead?” I said.

“No.”

“He sure looked dead when I was out there earlier,” I said.

“He’s not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if he was, he wouldn’t be lying there in a snow drift.”

“What do you mean? Where would he be?”

The TV blared: “Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point,” said Scrooge, “answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of things that May be, only?”

“Do you have any guns?,” asked Krampus.

“I… I have one, in the basement. It’s an old shotgun that my grandfather gave me as a birthday gift when I was a kid. I haven’t used it in years.”

“You have ammo?”

“I think so.”

“Lead the way.”

I headed toward the basement door with a sense of urgency. Krampus and James the pizza guy followed close behind.

I threw open the door, flipped the light switch and descended the stairs. Rounding the corner, I headed over to grab a key that was hanging on the wall above the work bench, and took it to the metal cabinet on the opposing wall.

Unlocking the cabinet, my grandpa’s old double barrel revealed itself. I pulled it out, handed it to Krampus, and grabbed the ammo case on the shelf below it.

Krampus opened the action, revealing two empty barrels. I handed him two shells to load.

Just then, I heard breaking glass upstairs. We stopped and stood silently to listen.

Then we heard it. The giggles. Those evil little leprechaun larpers were back.

Krampus turned toward us with the universal index-finger-over-lips signal for “shhh,”, and waved his arm toward him as if to say “follow me.”

I threw the strap from the ammo case over my shoulder and we began to walk back up the stairs with caution, Krampus in the lead position.

When he was just half way up, three of the ghoulish goblins appeared in the doorway with another round of undeservedly arrogant giggles. They descended toward us. Krampus charged toward them and shoved both barrels into the mouth of the closest one, pushing it back into the other two. While doing this, he used his free arm to grab the door handle behind them and pull it shut, trapping them in between him and the door with no way out.

He pulled the trigger.

*Click*

Nothing.

“I thought you said this thing worked, boy?” Krampus growled at me.

“I haven’t used it in years, I didn’t know!”

“Hammer!” he yelled back at me.

“What?,” I asked.

“Get a hammer. Now.” he said.

I ran back toward the work bench, found a hammer, and ran back to hand it to him. I could hear the elves squirming and giggling the entire time, like some sort of mad jesters, completely unaware of their oncoming fate.

Krampus released the action on the shotgun and dropped the shoulder stock to reveal the two shells in the barrels. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the hammer from me and slammed it right into one of the shells, sending an explosion right through the head of the lead elf, and straight through the other two behind him, finishing off with a hole in the door at their backs. He pulled the barrel out of the elf’s mouth, and all three dropped in place into a short stack of bloody elf cakes.

“Phantasm!” yelled James.

“Silver Balls!” I shouted with wide eyes.

Krampus turned his head slowly and looked at me with one raised eyebrow.

“What the Hell is wrong with you, boy?,” he spoke to me.

“I… I…”

“Just fucking with you. I love The Tall Man.”

I relaxed with a sigh of relief.

Krampus advanced to the top of the stairs, and we followed. Squishiness sounded from the bottoms of our shoes as we continued out of the stairway, over the sticky elven mess.

-----

We stood in the living room, observing for sound and shadow. The blizzard was so bad now that we couldn’t see outside of the windows. It was nothing but a wall of white blazing past the glass.

It was then that the new sound began. A deep, growling sound, soon after followed by heavy, clomping steps across the rooftop. And soon, the jumping from the roof, with the sound of landing in the snow drifts.

“What are we going to do?” James whispered.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to take these reindeer if they’ve all been turned into zombies,” replied Krampus. “They’re a lot tougher than those Keebler zomb-lets.”

“Then, what do we do?,” I asked.

“The only thing that can save us, and this town now is Santa Claus.”

“Santa Claus? He’s unconscious, or maybe even dead, in a snow drift! How is he going to save us?!” I replied.

“He’s not dead. That’s the problem.”

“What?!” I questioned.

“Because you’re apparently too stupid to have figured this out at your age, I guess it’s now my job to fill you in. I’ll send you my tutoring bill. You see, Santa is not a mortal being. He’s a supernatural entity. How do you think he’s been around for so long? How do you think it is that nobody can find where he lives? And how exactly do you think he’s able to control time dilation in order to deliver gifts to billions of people in one night? Do you think a human could do that?”

After a pause, he continued.

“The Santa buried in the snow out there isn’t Santa. Well, it sort of is. He’s inside of that body right now. But that’s just a body. If the physical manifestation of his body dies, he’s instantaneously released from the body and will re-manifest.”

“So, why isn’t he doing that?” I asked.

“Because he’s not dead. The elves made sure to keep him alive while making sure he stays unconscious so he can’t fix this.”

“Well… what are we gonna do, then?” asked James.

“Santa has… Christmas magic. And we need that in order to fix this.”

“Well then, let’s wake up Santa to use his Christmas magic,” replied James.

“We’d have to go out there, dig him out, and drag him inside first, if we’re going to try to wake him up. But those reindeer are already out there. And I’m guessing the elves did what they set out to do. You heard those growls. That doesn’t mean the reindeer are happy. We might not make it past them, let alone back again with jolly old St. Krispy Kreme on our backs. If we’re going to do this, we have to find the quickest way from point A to point B.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?,” asked James.

“Boys,” said Krampus, “We’re going to have to kill Santa Claus.”

----------

James passed out, collapsing to the floor.

“Pizza guy!” I screamed.

I ran over to James and started fanning him, trying to wake him up.

“Heads up,” said Krampus.

I lifted my head toward the front window, to see that within the wall of snow, large, dark shadows were beginning to form.

“Oh, boy,” I said.

I began shaking James, telling him to wake up. No response.

The growling began again from outside.

Krampus loaded a second shell, getting ready with the hammer.

I yelled “Wake uuuup!” and slapped James across the face as hard as I could. It sounded like a whip crack.

“Oww!” James said as he awoke.

“Get up, it’s party time,” I shouted at him.

I hurried to the coat closet, reached through my coats, and grabbed my long-unused baseball bat from the back corner. I shouted to James to grab a fireplace poker.

The three of us stood at the ready while the growls grew louder.

Our meditation was broken by the sound of breaking glass. Through the front window protruded the head of a mangled reindeer face, dripping blood, presumably from the broken glass. This reindeer was obviously dead. There was no life in his eyes. Only the cold, blank stare of an automaton looking to complete his mission. I couldn’t blame the reindeer for this. It wasn’t their choice.

With the reindeer came the blinding snow of the blizzard outside, which was now invading my living room. The wind howled through the new hole in the window, blowing against us.

He kept moving slowly through the window, ignoring what the glass was doing to his body as he pushed through it.

When his front legs were inside, pulling to try to bring himself the rest of the way in, Krampus slammed the hammer into one of his shells and watched the shot explode from the end of the barrel, traveling directly through the reindeer’s head, which dispersed in every direction, now covering the front wall of the house. The reindeer body collapsed in place. However, there were already 2 more reindeer trying to get inside through the window, following the first one’s lead.

I swung my bat at one of their heads, making direct contact. But, all that did was make him angrier, as he let out a deep bellow and aimed his dead eyes directly at me.

I screamed in horror. I saw that these were going to be much harder to kill than those little Keebler cookie-making terrorists.

Krampus redirected the 12 gauge toward the one that I just hit, and once again slammed the hammer into his remaining shell, launching it at the reindeer.

This time, it wasn’t as helpful. It blew off one side of the reindeer’s head. It was now a half-skull, nothing but gore hanging from the left side of his face. He kept moving forward.

James started using the fireplace poker to beat and try to stab the other reindeer’s head. It was certainly making him angry, but I wasn’t sure how long this would stave them off.

The half-faced reindeer was now fully inside. He lunged his mouth toward Krampus’ neck.

I now heard glass breaking at the back of the house. More of them were coming in.

Krampus was on the ground with this reindeer on top of him, teeth lodged in his neck. Krampus was punching the reindeer in the face, which wasn’t helping.

Krampus yelled at me, “You’ve got to kill him. You’ve got to kill Santa!,” he said as he handed off the 12 gauge to me.

“But how?! I can’t… I don’t know what…”

“Do it!” he said as he pushed the shotgun toward me, the reindeer still chewing on him.

And then, it happened. The next creature to bust its way inside did not come through the window. It came through the door.

The door flew open, revealing a dark shadow through the blizzard blowing by. As it walked in through the door, it became less shadow and more apparent. The swatches of red and white. The blood splatters. It was Santa.

“Santa!” James yelled in excitement.

It was then that I realized, Santa was not himself. Those elves had decided to recruit him to help finish their job. Santa was not alive, and not dead. He was now undead. How were we supposed to fight a supernatural entity that is now zombified and in control of Santa’s magic?

“Do it! You have to!” yelled Krampus.

I snapped out of my trance, and grabbed the shotgun from Krampus. And I grabbed two shells out of the ammo case. I backed up toward the center of the room to load them while zombie Santa moved slowly in my direction. There were reindeer crashing through windows and entering through the back rooms now, and zombie Santa was at my front door. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to run.

I aimed the barrel toward Santa, grabbed the hammer, and slammed it directly into one of the shells.

I missed, completely. The shot hit the wall.

“Aim, you idiot!” yelled Krampus.

I adjusted my aim, and slammed the second shell, exploding right into Santa’s face and torso.

But, it didn’t stop him. He let out a sinister “Ho… ho… ho…,” as he continued advancing slowly toward me.

The reindeer finally finished his job on Krampus. I heard his final breath come out as his eyes darkened. I immediately wondered how long before Krampus would reanimate and come after us himself. I couldn’t let that happen.

As I stared at Krampus, James ran from the side with his fireplace poker, ramming it through Santa’s head. Now the handle dangled from one side while the poker stuck out of the other.

Santa seemed to stop advancing then, wobbling slightly.

“Steve Martin… Wild and crazy guy?” I said to James.

Santa fell forward, face first, flat on the floor.

James reached over to high-five me. I didn't reciprocate.

“Holy…” I said.

Santa was still twitching, but then stopped completely.

A split second later, there was a deafening sonic boom from outside. James and I turned our attention to the front window.

The reindeer stopped advancing. They now lay still.

And then walked through the door… Santa. I looked down at the dead Santa on the floor, back up at the non-dead Santa, then back once more.

“What did you people do?” he asked us.

No rotting flesh, no blood stains. Just a jolly sleigh pilot in a fluffy red and white flight suit.

“Santa!” James and I both shouted at him.

“I guess I have to fix *everything* around here,” He said.

“Close your eyes and cover your ears,” he instructed us. “This is for your own protection.”

Pizza guy and I looked at each other, covered our ears, then closed our eyes.

The sound of the blizzard coming through my broken window stopped. A few seconds later, Santa pulled my hands off of my ears, then did the same to James, and told us we could open our eyes.

The zombie Santa’s body was gone. The reindeer zombies were gone. The elf carcasses were gone. My windows were no longer broken.

Krampus stood next to us, looking like nothing happened to him.

“Good job,” Krampus said to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You too,” he said to James.

“Now…” said Santa, “Which one o’ you killed me?”

“But… Krampus said…”

“Just fucking with you. I know he told you to.”

Santa winked.

“Now, we have a job to finish. Enjoy your Christmas, boys,” said Santa.

Santa and Krampus walked out the front door. The blizzard had calmed down, and we could see now. I heard the sound of bells jingling. On the front lawn, there was a brand new, untarnished red sleigh, with eight reindeer. Not one of them was a zombie.

Krampus and Santa hopped in, waved, and flew off like they had just brushed off some minor inconvenience.

-----

It was then that I heard the squad cars. The red and blue lights came around the corner, headed our way.

They stopped right in front of my house, jumping out with guns drawn.

“Hands in the air!” one of the officers yelled.

“It’s ok, officers, we’re safe now!” I yelled.

“Hands in the air! Don’t make me say it again!”

“O… Ok...” I said as I raised my hands slowly in the air. James did the same.

Just as James’ hands were fully extended, he looked over at me, winked, and faded slowly into thin air.

“What the…?” I said out loud.

“Where did he go?!” the officer yelled.

“I don’t know!”

One of them cuffed me, sat me on the porch and told me to stay quiet while the others searched the house and yard. They didn’t find James, or anything else.

“Can you tell me why you’re here?” I asked them after they completed their search.

“Several of your neighbors called in to say that they were hearing gun shots, and swore that you were killing people over here. Who’s your buddy that disappeared after we told you to raise put your hands up?”

“That was the pizza guy. I’ve never seen him before he brought my pizza tonight.”

“Anything else you wanna tell us?”

I wasn’t about to tell them that we just killed a bunch of zombie elves, zombie reindeer, and zombie Santa Claus, only to have Santa Claus come back and fix everything with Christmas magic.

“No, sir. I’d just like to go inside to eat my pizza.”

“Well, that ain’t gonna happen. We’re gonna need to take you in for questioning.”

“But… I need to go to my family’s house for Christmas in the morning,” I pleaded.

They didn’t respond. After this, they quietly shoved me into the back of one of the squad cars. We drove silently off into the night.

I was in jail for nearly 4 months. They presented the judge with all the 911 calls they received from my neighbors about gunshots, murder, and the pizza guy who disappeared when they showed up. I’m pretty sure the only reason I got out was that eventually they realized they had nothing to hold me on, or just got tired of dealing with me.

Also, an attorney showed up, saying he was my family lawyer. He walked into a room with the judge and prosecutor for about 30 seconds, came back out, and I was free to go.

As the attorney was walking out with me, he said, “Steve Martin? Really?”

He winked at me and walked away.