Page 13 of Prize for the Alien Grumpus

Footsteps thud above us. Drawers slam in the bedrooms. They're searching methodically, room by room. Getting closer.

The kitchen floorboards creak. Sam burrows deeper into my arms, Mr. Snuggles squished between us. I count the steps. Three by the sink. Two at the fridge. One by the-

The pantry doorknob rattles.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe if I wish hard enough, we'll disappear. Like magic. Like a Christmas miracle.

The knob turns with a metallic squeal.

A thunderous crash rocks the entire house. The pantry shelves rattle, sending a box of pasta tumbling past my head. Sam yelps against my palm.

"Dashing through the bones," a gravelly voice sings from the kitchen. "In a bloody, gory spray, killing as I go, laughing all the way HO HO HO."

My breath freezes in my lungs. That voice. It can't be...

Shrieks of agony pierce the air, followed by the unmistakable crunch of bones. The Grolgath beg for mercy between gurgles and gasps.

"Please, no!" one wails. "We surrender!"

Krampus's laughter booms through the house, drowning out their pleas. He's enjoying this. Relishing every scream, every crunch, every splatter.

I clamp my hand tighter over Sam's mouth. She whimpers against my palm, tears soaking into my skin. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing this to be just another nightmare.

But the screams... the wet ripping sounds... Krampus's deranged laughter... it's all too real.

One final shriek rends the air, raw with terror and pain. Then silence falls like a shroud.

I don't move. I don't breathe. Sam shakes in my arms, her tiny heart fluttering against my chest like a caged bird.

Footsteps creak across the kitchen floor. Slow. Methodical. Like a predator seeking its next meal.

I press my lips to Sam's ear.

"Stay here baby," I breathe. "No matter what happens, stay quiet. Stay hidden."

She nods, eyes wide and glassy with fear. I kiss her forehead, breathing in her sweetness one last time.

Then I'm moving, unfolding myself from our hiding spot. The pantry door looms before me, the knob slick with my sweat.

This is insane. I should grab Sam and run. But run where?

I think of the bodies in my kitchen. The monsters who came for my daughter. At least out there, I have a chance of leading him away from her. In here, we're just rats in a trap.

I swallow hard and wrap my fingers around the knob. The metal burns cold against my skin.

I twist the knob and throw the door open.

The scene before me defies reality. My kitchen looks like Santa's workshop collided with a slasher film. Krampus lounges against my counter, taking another bite of what I recognize as the turkey I'd been saving for Christmas dinner. He's eating it raw!

His massive blue-furred frame dwarfs my modest kitchen space.

The golden garland - the same one Sam and I hung on our tree last weekend - now serves as a makeshift noose for one of my would-be kidnappers. The alien spins lazily on my ceiling fan, his gray skin catching the fluorescent light with each rotation.

My gaze drifts to the sink. Two gray feet stick straight up like macabre kitchen utensils. The garbage disposal growls, apparently still working on... I clamp down on that thought before it can fully form.

"You put him down the garbage disposal?" The words squeak out before I can stop them.

Krampus nods, tearing another chunk of meat from the drumstick.

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