WTF O’ Christmas Tree

Christmas horror story.

WTF O’ Christmas Tree!

Doug was in pain, panicking and breathing hard. He leaned heavily against the garage door that led into the kitchen. He could feel it rustling against the other side of the door. “What the hell is going on?”, he spoke out loud to himself while glancing around the garage for what he came in here for. The chainsaw sat in the corner on the other side of the room where he last put it. He seldom used it except to clear out dead limbs or dead trees while doing the conservation work he had felt was his life calling. He would clear out the dead wood to make way for new growth that he would help plant or he would nurture back to health trees that were ill. It was his passion but his passion was now trying to kill him.
The tree in the kitchen suddenly rattled the door Doug leaned against as if trying to break it open to get at him. It, after all, had been trying to kill him for the last few minutes after waking Doug up by throwing a Christmas ornament at him after he had dozed off in his recliner near the fire-lit hearth.
Doug had awakened with the contact of the ornament to see his Christmas tree staggering toward him by rocking back and forth in its four legged stand with all the grace of a young infant taking its first steps. Doug’s eyes opened even wider as several more ornaments of various shapes and sizes were suddenly hurled at him as the tree got closer.
He jumped up out of the recliner and launched himself over the nearby coffee table to take cover from the barrage. He could hear the ornaments that were glass shatter against the wall behind the chair he had just exited in a hurry.
He heard himself yell, “What the f**k!” He could see from under the table the thing shuffling closer toward his position awkwardly and almost falling over with each shuffle. Its needles were shedding onto the floor and water was sloshing out of its bowl as it did.
He suddenly heard it speak to him in its progression toward his position. “Why did you cut me down Doug? Why? Why weren’t we good enough to live like your other trees Doug?” Its voice sounded splintered and harsh like wood snapping in a deep freeze from too much ice accumulation.
Again, all Doug could think to say replying to this thing was “What the f**k!”
The tree was almost upon him and ornaments were still flying through the room and crashing into the walls and furniture throughout. Doug suddenly thought of his chainsaw. He jumped up and headed toward the kitchen in hopes to get to the garage door. It might have been a mistake he thought as he felt what seemed like a thousand stings pierce his backside from his head down to his feet. The tree had slung an onslaught of its needles in his direction and they had found their mark. He screamed in pain and swung wildly as if fighting a swarm of attacking bees. His momentum carried him to the door and he plummeted his weight through it and slammed it behind him.
The tree rattled the door even harder. Doug could feel the barrier cracking behind his back with all the needles still piercing him from the pressure he was exerting holding the door shut.
It rattled even harder now. Doug had only one choice. He took it. He ran from the door to the chainsaw. The door burst open as the Christmas tree shambled through it toward him. “Why?”, he could hear it saying over and over as it drew closer.
The chainsaw roared to life as Doug pulled the chord rapidly. The noise almost drowned out the tree’s accusatory question but not quite. It lurched forward while extending the decorative garland of icicle blue and frost white toward Doug’s throat trying to choke him. Doug swung the saw and sliced the garland in two. The tree reached out with several of its branches while Doug, in a panic, swung wildly lopping off several but several others found there target.
Doug screamed as it grasped him and tilted its multi-pointed star crowned top toward him. It aimed toward his chest. Doug again swung wildly at the thing’s midsection connecting and tree sap slung around the garage covering him, his car and other objects throughout. The tree continued its lunge using its weight and gravity. The tree topper, a wondrous star of many colors, pierced Doug’s chest and imbedded itself into his heart. Both Doug and the Christmas tree fell to the ground in a deadened heap. The tree’s green needles scattered about blended with the crimson of his blood on the garage floor in a festive Christmas collage of carnage. The chainsaw died sometime later.

Legion
23DEC20