Christmas Animatronics

Warren Tierney steps back into the kitchen, sees the overflowing pot of pasta water, and curses, quickly shuffling over to pull the lid off. He stirs, unsticking the thin spaghetti, and lowers the heat. The pot continues to boil but now under control.

He looks up at the clock above the stove and checks it against his wristwatch, seeing he has plenty of time. He decides to check the shop anyway, feeling some doubt about the time.

White Christmas lights outline the edges of the shop wall, hanging just below the exterior roof. Inside, small splotches of multicolored lights sit around the fixed animatronic figures. The figures were laid out across the room, some tucked together and others hidden behind small shop displays. Each figure was dark and unlit without their lights and features turned on. He looked at two figures that stood in front of a model chestnut stand who stared back at him with an uncanny smile. He wondered why he’d set them up that way and made a note to change the setup in the morning.

The rest of the room looked correct at first glance, but he still looked around, checking each individual basket and making sure the portions were correct. Each gift was properly laid out, and he relaxed, moving back toward the kitchen. The picture of his son and his family hung on the wall just to the right of the stove, and his eyes were drawn toward it, wishing it made him feel better. Despite being in a frame, the photo seemed faded and haunted.

The pasta finished cooking and he strained it into the sink with sauce simmering on the stove. As the boiling water poured into the sink, a voice softly rang through the store.

“Chestnuts, get your chestnuts here.”

The voice, soft and subtle, sent a shiver up Warren’s spine and he immediately dropped the pot into the sink, pasta half-drained and water dripping out. He moved back into the store and quickly started searching, confused and unsettled. He was sure he had followed each step correctly, and he checked his watch again, trying to find a reason. He stared at the time when a loud rapping against the storefront door jerked him out of his stupor.

Warren looked up and saw someone standing on the porch, shrouded by the darkness of the night and the shadows cast by the window lights. Warren could not get a good look at his face and found himself jerking his head back and forth trying to decipher it. Eventually he gave up and opened the door slightly.

“We are closed,” Warren said as soon as the door was barely ajar. He held it that way, still not quite getting a good view of the man.

“Please, I swear I just need a moment,” the figure said.

“What could you possibly need?” Warren asked.

“People in town say you have a way to turn things around. My family… well, it seems we just don’t have the right luck.”

Warren softened and opened the door wider.

“You are looking for the right gift then?” Warren asked. The man nodded, and Warren glanced at the shop clock just above the door, feeling slightly relieved as he looked at the time.

“Well, I am closed for tonight and it’s getting too late for me to let anyone come in.”

The man nodded again, dejected.

“Tomorrow morning, though. Come by first thing and I think I will have the right thing for you,” Warren finished.

“Thank you, sir,” the man said. “Thank you, I am serious. I cannot tell you enough.”

Warren nodded and waved the man away. The man left quickly and Warren turned back from the door, shoving his hands down into his pockets. He tried to sort out his thoughts but felt cloudy and unsure. He dug the food out of the sink, trying to salvage what he could.

He ate silently, staring straight ahead and looking at nothing. His plate was nearly cleared of the burnt, tasteless food when he heard another knock at the door.

He left his plate on the table, unfinished, but moved slower than before. Late-night visitors were not common, but they happened, and he thought that with the season moving closer to the holidays he ought to be ready for more.

As he passed through the shop portion of the building, he again felt something off, but after checking the clock he ignored the feeling as nerves. Outside, a man once again stood on his porch.

When the door swung open, he saw that the man from before had returned. Feeling unreality wash over him, Warren opened the door and looked out.

“Yes?” Warren asked. He started to say more, but the man spoke before he could.

“Please… a moment.”

“What?” Warren asked. Wind swirled in the background, but despite it Warren heard the words clearly, even though he did not believe them. He spine tingled as he felt watched, as if something moved around in the room behind him.

“Someone said you were the right person. You know something, don’t you?” he said.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Warren asked. “Do not come back here tomorrow. I wanted to give you a chance but you’ve… well, clearly I was wrong.”

He started to close the door but heard something behind him and stopped. Fire crackled through the shop and rang in Warren’s ears, forcing him to turn back and look over his shoulder. He turned back as the man started speaking again.

“You’re blessed sir,” the man said. “I thank you for your help.”

“What is wrong with you?” Warren said, growing angry. “I told you to go away.” Warren reached out, unconsciously, and pushed the man away. The man reacted quickly, grabbing Warren’s wrists and pulling him close before whispering in his ear.

“They’re awake,” the man said, then released Warren’s wrists. Warren reached back out and grabbed at air where the man had been. The wind blew hard and sharp against his face, forcing him back inside. Now the smell of smoke was overwhelming and he looked around for the source. As he did, a faint glow lurked in the back of the room, staring back at him. The animatronics seemed to have turned toward him and he felt several pairs of eyes staring back at him.

The clock above the shop door rang out at the same time the clock in the kitchen chimed, marking the hour of midnight. Warren looked at his watch, unbelieving, and saw that all three had synced and displayed an impossible time. Hours had seemed to pass in minutes, as time distorted around him.

“No, no. That cannot be,” he said. He hurried to each of the bowls and checked the offerings. Each one was full and untouched. Panic spread through Warren and he rushed to complete the ritual, knocking bowls off and spilling the contents. He knew it was too late but still he fumbled through the process desperately. His heart started pounding harder as he moved quickly through each bowl until he reached the last one, which sat completely empty.

Warren looked up and watched as it crept toward him. Each step he took backward sent shooting pains through his chest until he slipped and fell to the ground. His heart screamed, and his last vision was of being surrounded on all sides.