The 13th Floor

CREEPYPASTA: This “Elf on the Shelf” Isn’t Just Watching… It’s Hungry Too

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Our Creepypasta Christmas tradition continues with our second and final Holiday-themed entry for 2016 [be sure to check out our previous blood-freezing winter tale if you missed it], which will have you huddling a little bit closer to the warmth and light of a crackling fire… and looking over your shoulder for any sudden movements in the shadows.

Today’s story surfaced on the Creepypasta Wiki a few years ago, and as with our previous Christmas tale, the author’s real name is not given. We only know that she experienced a horrific tragedy that involved the holiday season and certain members of her family… and that their only known post was written just two days before the grim one-year anniversary of her niece’s bizarre and unexplained death.

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“No one knows how she died except her mother, who passed away recently, and me,” the author begins. “I do not know who to tell, but I need to tell someone. No one would believe me anyway, they’d lock me up like they locked up my sister. I wouldn’t blame them.”

She reveals that Bethany died the previous year on Christmas day — just one day shy of her 10th birthday. This close proximity to Christmas is significant for a couple of reasons.

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You see, Bethany was remembered as being fairly obsessed with the holidays, and continued to believe in Santa Claus, years after most children her age had outgrown the concept. The author’s family thought this was cute, however, and weren’t particularly concerned.

But they should have been… because in addition to Santa, Bethany also believed that one of St. Nick’s special helpers — an oddly sinister elf — came to live in their house every December.

Bethany told her family the eerie visitor often watched her at night, and once she mentioned waking up and seeing its “empty glass eyes” observing her from atop her dollhouse. The family dismissed this as a harmless product of the girl’s imagination… until the day she told them about the night when the elf “turned bad.”

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The author recounts the girl’s description of the creature — which apparently looked a lot like the traditional cute holiday elf, but with “too many teeth” and sharp, claw-like fingernails. “She said it would move around her room making strange noises at night,” she writes, “and she told me if she tried to get out of bed the elf would run towards her and bite and claw her feet and ankles.” Sensing the author’s doubts, Bethany revealed the bite marks.

“I thought maybe she was doing it to herself,” she writes, saying she later confronted her sister, Bethany’s mother, with her concerns. “I thought she might have been seriously mentally ill,” she concludes. “I wish I was right.”

The horror reached its climax on Christmas Eve, when the author was spending the holiday with her extended family. Bethany asked her to stay in her room with her that night, clearly terrified of what the elf might do. She agreed to spend the night, both as comfort to her niece, and to find out if the girl was somehow self-harming and blaming it on the imaginary intruder.

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That was the fateful night the author realized Bethany was telling the truth. But it was already too late to save her.

Bethany asked if she could get a drink of water, so the author started to go to the kitchen… but she thought it would be best for the frightened girl to accompany her.

“She didn’t want to come, but I wouldn’t let her stay,” the author writes, nearly overcome with grief and regret. “I should have listened.”

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On their way out of the room, their path was suddenly blocked… by a tall, thin, shadow-cloaked creature. It was much too large to be a doll, but too unnaturally spindly and spidery to be a human being. All she knew was that it was alive… and blocking their escape.

The author fumbled for the light switch, hoping perhaps illumination might scare the thing away, or possibly reveal it to be a mere hallucination. But the glow only highlighted its hideous, unnatural features. It may even have angered or pained it — since it responded with a shrill, ear-piercing screech.

Disoriented with panic, the author thought she could hear words embedded within that inhuman scream… the words “MERRY CHRISTMAS.”

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The thing began to run toward them with unnatural speed, and the author tried to insinuate herself between it and her niece… but Bethany shoved her out of the way, causing her to tumble through the bedroom doorway and into the hallway beyond. Before she could even turn around, the author heard the door slam shut behind her.

She struggled in vain to open it, as the knob was not merely locked, but seemed to be frozen, as if the very metal and wood of the door had become fused to the frame and wall. She thrust herself against it repeatedly, but it resisted like a solid mass of stone. Beyond the door, muffled and distant, she could hear Bethany’s desperate screams.

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Hyperventilating in panic and dazed with pain from the impact, the author ran for the kitchen to call 911, but found the dispatcher oddly resistant to her pleas for help, apparently dismissing the whole thing as a prank. In a fog of fear, she only half-realized that the rest of the family had not heard the screaming and smashing from the little girl’s room, or her frantic cries for help.

Just as she tossed the phone down in frustration, the author realized that Bethany’s bedroom door was open.

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Seizing a large knife from the kitchen, she crept back down the hallway, her eyes fixed on the pitch-black opening. There was no movement, no sound from within the room.

She slowly, deliberately reached the doorway, and slipped a hand around the edge to feel for the light switch. Flipping it on, she was confronted with a scene of carnage so extreme that her mind refused to fully grasp what her eyes witnessed.

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The “elf” — or whatever it was — had torn the poor girl’s body to pieces, which were strewn around the room like a hellish perversion of holiday decorations.

When the police finally arrived, they removed the hasty barricade that the author and her sister had placed in front of the door… and to the author’s shock and horror, all evidence of the girl’s murder had been erased. Not one drop of blood was found, and not a single item in the room was out of place. The only difference was that Bethany was missing.

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Throughout the ordeal, the girl’s parents appeared strangely devoid of emotion… not, it seemed, from shock, but as if they had been under a kind of hypnotic spell. The author doesn’t go into much detail about this odd behavior, but does reveal that Bethany’s mother continued to act strangely for months afterward, and eventually had to be committed to a mental hospital after several repeated attempts to cut open her own stomach. Not long before she was committed, Bethany’s mother committed suicide by hanging herself.

Meanwhile, police were unable to determine what had happened to Bethany, as there was virtually no evidence of any crime. The case remains open, but the author’s final entries reflect the hopelessness of the situation. The house remains empty to this day, though the property title remains in the family.

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“I’m the only one who knows what really happened,” she writes. Everyone else still thinks she’s missing.”

She concludes her final update on a terrifying note:

“Sometimes I still hear the elf’s voice at night, and I’m afraid it’s going to kill me next… It’s almost Christmas.”

There are no further updates.

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