Tag Archives: nightmare

The Nightmare That Was Christmas (Death Never Dies)

I remember it as clearly as if it was yesterday, even though it happened years ago, even before you were born. I screamed silently, pinned on my back by the massive weight of a cotton blanket, legs frozen, the dark lights flickering as the human-like form approached, its arms raised in front like The Mummy or Frankenstein’s Monster, hands ready to grab, closing in. A strange net-like pattern covered the featureless humanoid shape, moving around on its surface like Saint Elmo’s fire dancing on Jacob’s Ladder, undulating, letting off light, disintegrating and reforming and making a crackling noise as it did so.

rum pum … rum pum … rum pum …

The ever-repeating chant that was once barely audible, then louder, then deafening, is now pounding terribly in my ears and once again, I scream, but it is once again a silent scream and the cotton cloth that covers me once again grows heavy and pins me down.

rum pum … rum pumrum pumRUM PUM

Finally, the creature’s hands come down around my neck and take hold, it’s head, faceless, now pressed against mine and I think it may be growling, but since it has finally grabbed me, and only now, because those are the rules in this particular nightmare, my scream of terror can break loose so it does breaks loose and I cry out …

THE RUM PUMS ARE HERE … THE RUM PUMS ARE GOING TO GET ME!!!!

And I sit up with a start, drenched in the sweat of night terror, panting heavily, and I can hear adults heading for my room in response to my horrific screams and uncontrolled sobbing.

DAMN YOU BING CROSBY!!! Continue reading The Nightmare That Was Christmas (Death Never Dies)