Slay Ride

A Christmas-themed horror flash fiction

It’s December, figured I might as well kick off this month with some holiday-themed horror! And for those of you picturing Art the Clown while reading this, yes! This was 100% inspired by him.

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The sound of laughter and bells jingling filled the frosty air as four friends, all bundled up with their spiked hot chocolate in hand, climbed into an old-fashioned sleigh. Michael, Joanna, Shane and Thierry were giddy with holiday spirit, and perhaps too much rum. The sun was slowly setting, and the air brought a chilly bite. Their breaths puffed out clouds like a dragon as they settled into their seats.

“This is gonna be so fun!” Joanna exclaimed. “Yeah, until we get lost…” Michael responded, slightly worried. “Uhh, there’s a coachman with us,” Joanna responded, rolling her eyes.

The sleigh, drawn by two large horses, set off into the dense forest. The trees were dipped in frost from the fog the night before. The ground was covered in fresh powdered snow. It was a winter wonderland, that’s for sure. As they went deeper into the woods, the path vanished under a blanket of snow, and the horses started slowing down. The friendly chatter started dying down. “Ha! Maybe Michael was right.” Shane said, half-joking, half-concerned.

Thierry reassured the group, trying to maintain the festive mood, “Don’t worry, guys, it’s not like the coachman doesn’t know where to go.” But as time passed, a strong wind carrying thick snow with it moved in, and the forest got thicker. They noticed they weren’t being taken back towards the start. Before they could panic, they heard the coachman yell to them, “I can’t see in this weather! The trail, as you noticed, has disappeared.”

“And you’re only telling us now?!” Joanna yelled back.

“Sorry! It was my first day, and I didn’t want to seem like an idiot. But yes, we’re lost…”

“Well, you’re a fucking idiot.”

Panic was setting in between the friends. Combined with freezing in the blizzard and being lost, they started blaming each other. But then Thierry spotted a dim light flickering. “Guys! I see something!” And pointed to the direction of the light. The sleigh started to head in that direction. Through the blowing snow, they could see a small little cabin. Nearby, a corral with reindeer.

“Ooooo, maybe it’s Santa’s hideout!” Shane joked. As they approached, they could smell freshly baked cookies wafting through the air. Eager for some warmth and maybe a bit of Christmas magic, they asked the coachman if they could stop by. He nodded, and all four hopped off the sleigh and went to knock on the wooden door.

It creaked open, revealing not a jolly old man in red but a clown dressed in a Santa suit. His makeup was smeared with what they thought was red paint. His wide smile was deeply unsettling. Before they could react, a loud bang echoed around them. Joanna screamed as she was the first to notice and saw a massive chunk blown off of Shane’s head. His body swayed back and forth a bit before crumpling towards the ground, turning the snow a deep shade of crimson.

The coachman, without hesitation, ordered his horses to run off. Joanna yells, “Get the fuck back here!!! Doncha fucking leave us!!!”

“Sorry, you’re on your own!” The coachman yells back to them.

Panic erupted as the clown fired again at Thierry’s throat. His screams were gurgling sounds as blood started spilling out of his neck. He held his hands up to his throat and realized half of it was missing. As his eyes widen in fear as Death grips him, he collapses to the ground and stops moving.

Before Joanna and Michael could shake off their shock, the clown grabbed them by the head and pulled them inside the cabin. His grip was strong, almost supernatural. When they got inside, they could see the body of a heavy-set man, stripped down to his underwear, lying in the middle of the floor. There was a pool of blood around him, and he didn’t seem to be moving. They didn’t have enough time to take in the sight when the clown Santa threw them face-first toward the fireplace.

After throwing them in, he went to close the door, grabbed a log near the door, walked over to Michael, and hit him across his head. Michael fell back to the floor and grabbed his head in pain.

Joanna took this opportunity to run for the door. But the clown was too fast. He turned around and threw the log at her head, knocking her to the ground.

He took advantage of her being down to grab a knife, drove it into her calf and dragged the knife down, slicing her leg open. Joanna screamed out in pain and clawed at the wooden floorboards. Clown Santa then pulled her back and threw her onto a wooden chair. He took out some rope nearby and tied her to it.

He stepped back and smiled his wide, scary smile as if admiring his own work. He laughed silently and walked to the kitchen whistling “Carol of the Bells.” As he looked through the cabinets, Joanna cried, “Please let me go. Why are you doing this to us?!” Her cries went unheard as the clown never stopped to look at her.

When he saw a blender, he stopped. He picked it up and looked at it. Joanna could see that he was thinking hard about something. Then he smiled and walked over to her with it. He plugged it in and turned it on. When the blender roared to life, Joanna was hit with the realization that it would be used on her.

“No, no, no!!! Please don’t!!!”

The clown smiled, untied one of her hands and shoved it in the blender. Joanna let out a piercing wail as she watched her hand get torn to pieces. When he was done, he turned it off and dumped the carnage over her head. Crying and drooling from the pain, Joanna slumped over, losing her will to fight.

Michael was slowly gaining consciousness and groaned. The clown heard him and went to grab an electric turkey carver. He went back to Michael, sat down on his back and started cutting into his arms and back. Michael, fully alert now, screamed for his life and tried to fight his way out from under the clown. Michael managed to turn over, but the clown carved into his chest. This caused Michael to choke on his own blood.

The clown then stood up, dragged Michael over to the fireplace and shoved his head into the flames. Michael cried out in pain and flailed his arms around. His hand felt a metal stick nearby and used it to hit the clown in the shins. The clown stumbled back towards the blender. He picked it up and hit Michael across the head with it.

He turned his attention back to Joanna, his smile disappearing. He pointed to Michael, shook his head and wagged his finger as if to say, “Nuh uh.” He returned to the kitchen to look for his next tool; he found a gingerbread man kit and some spices.

He made his way back to Joanna and picked up the turkey carver he had used on Michael. He smiled at her again, pointed to the kit, nodded, and rubbed his tummy. He turned the carver on, pulled her head back by her hair, and put the carver towards her mouth. Joanna screamed as he carved her mouth open as if she was a jack-o-lantern. Blood was spewing out of her mouth and onto her clothes. He then moved toward her eyes and used the carver to remove them.

When he was done, he grabbed the spices and poured them into her empty eye sockets, silently laughing as he did it. Her whole body was shaking and contorting against the chair. Then he tore into the gingerbread kit and pulled out some gum drops. He carefully placed them into the eye sockets. She shook them out. This made him roll his eyes in annoyance. He went to the front door and grabbed the wreath that was hanging from it. The clown went back and placed it around Joanna’s neck, smiled and choked her to death with it.

Joanna finally stopped moving, and he put the gum drops back in. He stepped back and smiled at his handiwork.

Meanwhile, Michael returned to his senses and slowly pulled himself across the floor. The clown saw this and went to open the front door for him. He even motioned toward the door as if saying Michael was free to leave.

Michael continued to crawl out the door, crying. He dragged himself through the snow, leaving a crimson trail. Behind him, the clown went over to the reindeer, petted him and whispered, “Blitzen, your move.”

All of a sudden, the reindeer had a menacing gleam in his eyes that wasn’t there before and made its way towards Michael.

Hearing the reindeer grunts behind him, Michael looked back just in time for Blitzen’s antlers to gore him. His screams echoed through the snowy forest as the clown Santa pointed at him while silently laughing.

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