Chapter 2

I practically burst into Sophie's room.

"Sophie! Sophie!" I shook her little shoulder urgently.

Mom sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. "Chloe? What is it? It's so late—"

"Did Santa have his big sack of presents?!" I cut her off, staring at Sophie's sleepy face.

Sophie blinked, groggy. "What?"

"The Santa who came out of the chimney!" My voice was shaking. "Did he have his big sack of presents?"

Sophie shook her head, her voice tiny. "No… He had a sack on his back, but it was all lumpy and wrinkled. And it was moving."

My blood ran cold.

"What do you mean, it was moving?"

"Like…" Sophie made a squirming motion with her little hands. "Like there were things inside, wiggling around. Not presents. Something else."

The answer horrified me.

A kid making up a lie would never forget Santa's iconic gift sack. And they definitely wouldn't describe it as a "lumpy, moving sack."

"Chloe, are you crazy?" Mom said, her voice sharp with impatience. "Scaring her in the middle of the night! Sophie needs to sleep!"

"Mom, I think—"

"Get out!" Mom pointed at the door. "Let Sophie sleep!"

I was pushed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind me.

The hallway was silent except for my own ragged breathing.

Sophie's words echoed in my head: lumpy, wrinkled, and it was moving. Not presents.

Shaking, I went back to my room and opened my laptop.

The NoSleep subreddit was always active late at night, a place for people all over the world to share their terrifying experiences.

I started typing.

Title: My 5-year-old sister saw "Santa," but her description is terrifying. Help.

Hey everyone, I need help. Two days ago, my five-year-old sister said she saw Santa Claus in our house, but her description doesn't match the traditional image at all. She said this "Santa" had long, spider-like fingers, too many joints, crawled like a four-legged animal, and after climbing out of our chimney, it just stood silently in the corner of our living room, watching us for an hour.

Most importantly, when I asked if this "Santa" had a gift sack, she said no. Just a lumpy, wrinkled, moving sack on its back.

Sophie never lies, and the details she gave are too specific. I'm terrified this isn't her imagination. Has anyone ever experienced anything like this?

We live in a single-family house in Michigan. We do have a fireplace and chimney.

Please, if anyone knows what this is, tell me.

After posting, I anxiously refreshed the page.

The first few replies made my heart sink.

[Nice story, but work on your plot holes. A 5-year-old's imagination isn't that specific.]

[Another one farming for karma. The Christmas theme is a nice touch, though.]

[I have a 5-year-old daughter. They mix up nightmares and reality all the time. Don't worry about it.]

[6/10. Good atmosphere, but the story lacks a climax.]

My eyes started to burn with tears.

No one believed me. They all thought it was a story I'd made up.

But I kept waiting, refreshing the page again and again.

By midnight, there were dozens of comments, all of them either skeptical or offering "writing advice."

I sat on my bed, hugging my knees, a wave of helplessness washing over me.

Maybe they were right. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe Sophie just had a really bad nightmare.

But my gut told me it wasn't that simple.

I refreshed the page one last time.

It was 12:47 AM now, and the new replies had slowed to a trickle.

My eyelids grew heavy. My head was swimming with doubt and fear, and exhaustion finally pulled me under.

Just then, a red "1" popped up in my DMs.