underground with only the thin beam of light keeping utter darkness at bay.
‘
Oh what fun it is to ride, on a one horse open sleigh.
’
The tunnel stopped its descent and opened into a chamber, with burrows cut into the earth. Again the beam of light flickered this way and that, wondering which way to go.
‘
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way
.’
There was a smell in there that overwhelmed the damp mustiness of the underground. It was an unmistakable aroma, one she had experienced many times. It was roasting meat, cooking in the heat of its own fat. Dread filled her heart as she followed the smell into a chamber. It was almost overwhelming as she entered. From the little light she brought, she could see a wooden table, the type found in a butcher shop. A stool was set at the end. A fireplace had been cut in the wall and dried twigs crackled on an orange flame. Above that, a large black iron pot bubbled and boiled. This was the least of it, for Katie’s attention was drawn to the table. A platter was set for dinner. A silver tray and dome cover twinkled in the dark. It was large and reflected Katie as she approached it.
She laid her hatchet on the table and pulled her glove off with her mouth. She had to see what the tray held. She had to see. She gripped the handle and closed her eyes and lifted the lid. She peered and the sight was as horrific as anything she had ever seen or would ever see again. Hog-tied and red like roasted swine, the meal was not her brother or her sister but someone else’s loved one, reduced to a recipe for the Child Eater. She gasped in horror and relief in one sickening mix. The dome lid fell back to the tray with a loud clatter that echoed into the tunnels. She held her hand to her mouth, biting on her fingers until they bled. There was no pain as the cold had taken it away, but she sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably. She sobbed so much her sides ached. As the noise fell into the silence and the darkness, the echoes carried on into the dreaded tunnels.
To Katie’s horror, the chimes of sleigh bells answered the call. She listened, shaking and not daring to breathe. Yet the jingle bells heard her anyway and followed her fear, coming closer and closer. Slowly and precisely she turned to the entrance to see the shadow of der Kinderfresser sailing along the wall. The torch…the torch was still lighting the room. She fumbled for the button. The light refused to go out until the last moment and the room filled with merciful darkness. The shadow became form and entered the room. Katie ducked to the dirt; she crawled under the table and sat there with her arms around her knees, unable to move.
From her hiding place, she could see the Child Eater flow through the room with unnatural movements, but she could only see it from the waist down. This was enough for Katie to realise that the noise, the Christmas jingle that tempted children to their fate, came not from bells but from the set of cruel blades hanging from the creature’s rope belt. She could see in that horrific gloom the Child Eater’s leathery legs and its feet of sharp nails moving towards the boiling, bubbling pot.
Katie slowly reached her hand up and over, reaching for the hatchet on the table above, her fingers seeking the handle. She caught it and slipped into her hand, just as the Child Eater returned to the table. The creature sat on a stool. Katie could see its legs, mapped with boils and white pustules, and the scales covering its skin. Its legs were wrapped in black rags. She gripped the axe handle, shaking. The creature above began to attack the roast ravenously. As a smell like cooked and basted chicken filled the air, Katie knew that the ripping of cooked flesh and cracking of bone, the slurping of marrow that churned her stomach, was not from a fowl at all. She again held her hand to her mouth to stop herself from gagging.
Her gloveless hand. Her gloveless hand because her glove lay on
‘
Oh what fun it is to ride, on a one horse open sleigh.
’
The tunnel stopped its descent and opened into a chamber, with burrows cut into the earth. Again the beam of light flickered this way and that, wondering which way to go.
‘
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way
.’
There was a smell in there that overwhelmed the damp mustiness of the underground. It was an unmistakable aroma, one she had experienced many times. It was roasting meat, cooking in the heat of its own fat. Dread filled her heart as she followed the smell into a chamber. It was almost overwhelming as she entered. From the little light she brought, she could see a wooden table, the type found in a butcher shop. A stool was set at the end. A fireplace had been cut in the wall and dried twigs crackled on an orange flame. Above that, a large black iron pot bubbled and boiled. This was the least of it, for Katie’s attention was drawn to the table. A platter was set for dinner. A silver tray and dome cover twinkled in the dark. It was large and reflected Katie as she approached it.
She laid her hatchet on the table and pulled her glove off with her mouth. She had to see what the tray held. She had to see. She gripped the handle and closed her eyes and lifted the lid. She peered and the sight was as horrific as anything she had ever seen or would ever see again. Hog-tied and red like roasted swine, the meal was not her brother or her sister but someone else’s loved one, reduced to a recipe for the Child Eater. She gasped in horror and relief in one sickening mix. The dome lid fell back to the tray with a loud clatter that echoed into the tunnels. She held her hand to her mouth, biting on her fingers until they bled. There was no pain as the cold had taken it away, but she sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably. She sobbed so much her sides ached. As the noise fell into the silence and the darkness, the echoes carried on into the dreaded tunnels.
To Katie’s horror, the chimes of sleigh bells answered the call. She listened, shaking and not daring to breathe. Yet the jingle bells heard her anyway and followed her fear, coming closer and closer. Slowly and precisely she turned to the entrance to see the shadow of der Kinderfresser sailing along the wall. The torch…the torch was still lighting the room. She fumbled for the button. The light refused to go out until the last moment and the room filled with merciful darkness. The shadow became form and entered the room. Katie ducked to the dirt; she crawled under the table and sat there with her arms around her knees, unable to move.
From her hiding place, she could see the Child Eater flow through the room with unnatural movements, but she could only see it from the waist down. This was enough for Katie to realise that the noise, the Christmas jingle that tempted children to their fate, came not from bells but from the set of cruel blades hanging from the creature’s rope belt. She could see in that horrific gloom the Child Eater’s leathery legs and its feet of sharp nails moving towards the boiling, bubbling pot.
Katie slowly reached her hand up and over, reaching for the hatchet on the table above, her fingers seeking the handle. She caught it and slipped into her hand, just as the Child Eater returned to the table. The creature sat on a stool. Katie could see its legs, mapped with boils and white pustules, and the scales covering its skin. Its legs were wrapped in black rags. She gripped the axe handle, shaking. The creature above began to attack the roast ravenously. As a smell like cooked and basted chicken filled the air, Katie knew that the ripping of cooked flesh and cracking of bone, the slurping of marrow that churned her stomach, was not from a fowl at all. She again held her hand to her mouth to stop herself from gagging.
Her gloveless hand. Her gloveless hand because her glove lay on
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