Chapter 3

I didn't see the message until I woke up the next morning.

The sender was NocturneNotes. No profile picture, and their profile page was almost completely blank.

NocturneNotes: Your sister isn't lying. That thing is dangerous.

My heart immediately started pounding.

I replied instantly: Do you know what it is? Please tell me!

A few minutes later, a reply came.

NocturneNotes: The real Santa Claus doesn't bring gifts. Anything that enters your home can't be the real Santa.

The message confused me. What did that mean?

NocturneNotes: I need you to run a test. Tonight, at exactly midnight, hang a small gift box on your Christmas tree. Inside the box, put one gingerbread man cookie. Any brand will do. Then hide and watch. Remember, exactly at midnight. Not a minute sooner, not a minute later.

NocturneNotes: If I'm right, you'll need to act fast.

His words sent a shiver down my spine.

I spent the entire day in a state of high anxiety.

Mom and Dad were preparing Christmas dinner as usual. Sophie was in the living room playing with a new doll. Everything seemed so normal, so warm.

But I knew something was wrong. Something was lurking.

At dinner, I could barely eat.

"Chloe, you look pale," Dad said with concern. "Are you staying up too late?"

"I'm fine," I managed, forcing a smile.

Sophie sat across from me, carefully cutting her turkey. She seemed much better than yesterday, even humming a Christmas carol.

At 11:00 PM, I snuck a gingerbread cookie from the kitchen and put it in a small gift box.

I hung the box on a branch near the middle of the tree, then hid behind an armchair in the corner of the living room.

The only light came from the twinkling Christmas tree lights, casting shifting shadows across the room.

11:58 PM.

11:59 PM.

Midnight.

The church bells in the distance chimed twelve times, each heavy toll echoing in the silent night.

For the first five minutes, nothing happened.

I started to wonder if NocturneNotes was just messing with me, like the other Redditors.

Then, in the seventh minute, I heard it. A faint, tiny sound.

Crunch.

Like something biting into something hard.

The sound was coming from the red gift box.

I held my breath, staring at the tree. The gift box was swaying slightly on its branch, and the swaying was getting stronger.

Crunch, crunch.

The biting sound grew louder, more frantic, like something was devouring the cookie inside.

My whole body was trembling, but I didn't dare move or make a sound.

After ten minutes, the noise stopped.

I waited and waited, making sure everything was quiet before I shakily stood up.

I walked to the Christmas tree and carefully took down the box.

It felt noticeably lighter, and there was a strange, rotten smell coming from it.

I opened the box.

The gingerbread man was gone.

In its place was a pile of fine, black powder that stank of mold and rotting meat.

I almost threw up.

I ran back to my room and typed a message to NocturneNotes with trembling fingers: The cookie is gone! It turned into black powder, and it’s moving! What the hell is this?!

The reply was almost instantaneous: Add me on Discord. Now. We need to voice chat.

I immediately opened Discord and searched for the user.

I sent a friend request.

Two seconds later, it was accepted.

A message popped up immediately after.

NocturneNotes: Your house has been marked. Your whole family is going to die.