Nightmare Before Xmas Hill Novels & Stories

Lillie Damon stared out the window of her cabin. The lightning in the midnight sky illuminated the forest on Slaughter Hill. Wind hissed through the forests. Thunder rang with a loud explosion that echoed for miles. She was determined it was a suitable midnight to cast a spell upon her suitor Paul. She went into the shower. Lying down on the counter was a comb that Paul used to comb his hair. Lillie picked up the hair from his comb. Lillie stepped onto the back deck and cleaned the soil off the underside of his loafers. She continued into the backyard and ignited a picture of him and picked up the ashes. She was squatting on the floor with torches all around her. The gleam of the torches pro

REID The events of the day replay in my dreams all night like a horror movie that I can’t turn off. I’m back on that ridge, watching as Xavier staggers toward Gray, lunging in a last desperate attempt to fight him off. I see Gray tear out his throat again, hear the gurgling sound as Xavier struggles for air, blood spurting from the gaping wound in his neck and staining the snow. This time, though, when I go to turn away, something gives me pause. I look back to see Xavier rise again, still bleeding from the neck but still very much alive. Everyone else has their backs turned, and I open my mouth to warn them, but no sound comes out…

At other times, they could resemble two liquid-blue pools of flashing fire. His devil-may-care outlook and bass voice were a big part of his ambitious character. He always wore nifty clothes and his spicy aroma was appealing. “Dad!” He embraced and patted her continuously as he expelled his breath and gazed heavenward. “Everything will be fine, you've made the best decision by returning home.” The honking of a van and blaring of a siren could be heard in a distant as an ambulance and special ops' van approached the crime scene with a team of Doctors and mobile soldiers.

Arthur’s father, a kind man with a twinkle in his eye, leads the toast. “To family, to love, and to new beginnings. Merry Christmas!” We all clink glasses, and I take a sip, feeling a sense of contentment wash over me. As everyone continues to chat and enjoy the evening, I quietly slip away to put Hayley to bed. Her room is cozy and peaceful, a little sanctuary from the excitement. I tuck her in, brushing a kiss on her forehead. She stirs slightly, opening her eyes. “Is it Christmas, Mommy?” she asks, her voice sleepy.

Her wolf howled inside her chest—not in pain, not in hunger, but in fury. “Where is he?” she snarled. Victor had not appeared. Not yet. But his madness was everywhere. They found Nolan buried beneath rubble, one leg broken, a shifter gnawing at his boot. Martha killed it with a silver round and dragged him out. “You good?” He spat blood. “Never been better.” Dawn never came. The sky stayed black. Red. Bleeding. In the hills beyond the town, a massive shape stirred. Shadows twisted. And a roar split the heavens.

By the time Yves Golding got home, it was already midnight. I was lying in bed, staring at a photo of him and Melissa Lane. His abs showed faintly beneath his red Santa suit as she leaned against them, eyes shyly closed. Their colleagues had left comments below the post, saying that they were a perfect match and that Yves was quite bold. Melissa commented, "You guys, stop making things up. Mr. Golding was just being kind by keeping a lonely soul like me company for Christmas!"

And somehow, that tiny fissure was more dangerous, more terrifying, and more hope filled than the solid, impenetrable glacier had ever been. “Spirits of the mountain,” Jax breathed, finally moving. He walked over to the crashed sconce, nudging it with his boot as if to confirm it was real. “I think I need a drink. A very, very large drink.” He looked at Winter, his expression a mixture of awe and terror. “Do you have any idea what you just did?” Winter shook her head, still trembling. “I ...I don’t know. I just.. I saw it falling.”

And I’m going to get him back. I'm having another nightmare. In this one, I'm in a dark room and I can't see a thing. I'm panting and calling for Jaxon, but there's no response. I run out and fall into a pile of snow. When I look up, there's a full moon, shining so bright like the sun. Suddenly, it turns red, and I hear heavy footsteps behind me.

The next three days were a strange mix of tension and unexpected warmth. Margaret stayed mostly in her room, making calls to Nick's lawyers about getting Amanda removed. Amanda and her friends went into town constantly, pretending to plan a wedding that would never happen. Preston kept apologizing to anyone who would listen. And Nick tried to keep everything from exploding. But somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, Christmas was coming. Riley woke me up early on December 23rd by jumping on my bed.

I learned to be thankful and quiet. That acceptance made me hate Christmas. Love songs made my skin crawl. The lights under our tree looked like glass eyes. The ribbons on the presents were traps. Every year, the house tuned itself to cheer and I pretended to enjoy it. The twenty-fifth became the night when a new kind of cold touched my bones. It was the day the truth had crawled out at me like an animal. It was the day I had learned how much of my life had been decided by other hands.