The Elf on the Shelf

The Wilkins children noticed it first.

‘The Elf on the Shelf is different this year, Mummy.’

‘In what way, sweetheart?’

‘He moves, even when we’re watching. Doesn’t he Flynn? ‘

‘Yeah, and Sally’s heard him whispering to her in the middle of the night!’ Flynn’s voice wavered.

‘Sally, you shouldn’t say things like that, you’re scaring your little brother.’ Mrs Wilkins frowned. ‘You’re ten now and old enough to know better.’

‘I knew you wouldn’t believe me, that’s why I didn’t say anything about it before.’

‘It’s not that I don’t believe you, Darling, but your imagination does tend to run riot occasionally.’

‘Fine then!’ Sally stormed off to her room and slammed the door.

‘Great, she’s starting teenage behaviour already!’


Down the road at the Brown famiy home, Mr Brown sat toasting his toes in front of the log fire. With the children tucked safely in bed and his wife busy preparing the Christmas food for the next day, he sipped a whiskey and gave a contented sigh. I must remember to move The Elf on the Shelf before I go to bed.
He was thinking about where to put him, somewhere it would surprise the kids in the morning as he studied the elf for a few moments before he frowned. Mr Brown stood up from his recliner for a closer look. He reached out his meaty hand to relocate the elf but soon recoiled. It was no longer plastic, but warm and weighty with what felt like human flesh.

That was when the killings started.


‘Hi, Sis, are you going to the tree-lighting ceremony tonight? ‘Mary asked Colleen, knowing perfectly well Colleen hated this time of the year, and what she called, ‘the hype and hypocrisy,’ of everything Christmas.

‘No! I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.’

‘Great.You can babysit then.’

‘Sure. I’d rather look after Claire any time than stand around in the freezing weather listening to politicians who like the sound of their own voices, speechifying.’

Later that evening, while her niece Claire watched cartoons on the television, Colleen scrolled mindlessly through her phone.

‘Auntie Colleen?’

‘Yeah, sweetie?’

‘I’m scared.’ Claire scooted over the sofa to be close to her Aunt.

‘What is there to be scared of? They’re just cartoons.’

Claire whispered in Colleen’s ear. ‘Can you put it back in its box?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The Elf.’ She whispered in Colleen’s ear, ‘He’s watching me.’

Colleen looked at the bookshelf, where the Elf on the Shelf sat. Innocent enough. She tried to see him through her niece’s eyes and could understand how a child might think it was watching her. His eyes, even to Colleen, held a bright glint, with a hint of maliciousness. However, she made light of Claire’s fears, but agreed to pop him back in his box. When she picked it up, his weight surprised her, it was far heavier than it looked.

‘Stupid thing,’ she muttered, as she stuffed him back in his box and threw it in the cupboard under the stairs.

‘Make sure the door’s shut tight, Auntie.’ Claire said.

‘I’ve closed it. See?’ She rattled the handle. ‘Come on, Sweetie, it’s gone. Let’s play a game and I’ll make sure to tell your mum to get rid of it, tomorrow.’


‘Snap!’ Claire’s hand slapped the pile of cards, hard.

‘You’re much too quick for me, Missy.’ Colleen admitted defeat.

‘Is that Mummy?’ Claire had heard a sound in the hallway.’

‘No, not yet. She said she’d be home about nine.’ Colleen looked at her watch.’

But they both heard a soft scritch-scratching coming from outside the room and looked at each other. Claire’s eyes widened. ‘What’s that?’

‘It could be a mouse. You know they like to find a nice, warm house to live in for winter.’ Colleen stood up. ‘You wait here, I’ll see if I can find him. Cheeky mouse.’

Claire giggled. ‘Be careful, he might bite you.’

The scratching sound was becoming louder and more insistent. Colleen listened at the cupboard door for a few moments before she opened it, just a crack at first, then wider. From out of the shadows The Elf appeared. Its plastic features twisted into a maniacle sneer.

‘Claire’s been a very naughty girl. She must be punished.’

Colleen backed up towards the living room. The Elf crawled towards her, repeating, ‘Claire’s been very naughty,’ over again, his voice raspy and menacing.

Claire had jumped up onto the sofa. Her screams could have been heard down the street. The Elf, closed in on her, his lips curled, revealing sharp pointed fangs.

‘Auntie!’

Colleen grabbed a cushion and hurled it at The Elf. ‘Run!’

But Claire remained on the sofa and just screamed.

‘Run, Claire. Run!’ At last, Colleen’s voice seemed to penetrate her terrified niece’s brain and she leaped right over the top of The Elf.

Colleen grabbed her hand, and they fled out into the night. They ran towards the town square, to the lights and music. Yet they knew The Elf was still in pursuit. They could hear his crazed laughter as it echoed into the darkness.

Colleen and Claire, both screamed for help as they entered the square, but the sight which met them made their blood turn to ice. Everyone’s Elf on the Shelf had come to life and made their way into town. There they sought out their owners. They climbed onto shoulders, wrapped strings of Christmas lights tightly around their necks, and strangled and choked. The screams of the Townsfolk filled the previously peaceful, frosty air, as their elves turned on them. They attacked and ripped into jugulars with their razor sharp teeth. So much blood spilled that night, bright red against the whiteness of the recent snowfall.

Colleen gripped her niece’s hand. ‘We need to leave. Right now.’

When they were almost away from the massacre, Claire’s Elf stood in their way, his damaged, cracked face grinned and glowed with malevolent glee.

‘Where do you think you’re going? He growled.

Colleen kicked out viscously with her black-booted foot. ‘Back to hell, you freak!’


No one knows what really happened that night in Chillwater. Some say it was revenge
from the Elves for the way they had been mistreated over the years. Others thought it was payback for the way the Christmas season had lost its meaning, been exploited, overtaken by business and the greed of the people.

Yet in the window of some of the houses there still remained an Elf on the Shelf, just sitting, watching and waiting.

Prompt: PROMPT: : CHRISTMAS HORROR
Your story must include an antagonist version of one (two at the most) of the following:
* Santa Claus
* Frosty the Snowman
* Jack Frost
* Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
* Elf on the Shelf.

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