The Christmas Party

Real Poetic's prompt: Write a microfiction story about a holiday party that went either terribly wrong or surprisingly well.

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The foursome was gathered around the tree, laughing and smiling, drinking wine and talking. The four didn’t seem to notice the fifth person in the room.

“Whoot, what a haul we’ve had this year, way better than last year,” the bearded guy said.

“You can say that again,” the woman in the green dress laughed.

“Did you see that little boy’s face when Sven told him about Santa,” the woman with the Santa hat said, tears rolling down her face.

“Hey, I just told the little bastard the truth. Santa ain’t real.” Sven, the man with the white Santa beard, replied. Laughing evilly, he added, “Did you see the look on his face when I took his cookie? Now that was fucking priceless.”

“Gerta, hand me that red gift there. I want to see if it was worth dying for,” the Santa hat woman said.

“How about that priest we took the church offering from? Do you think he’s still crying?” The bearded guy asked.

“Oh, god, I thought he was going to piss his fucking pants, Bert!” Gerta responded, laughing.

“Sure you didn’t?” Sven asked Gerta. Turning to the other woman, he asked, “What you get, Reanne?”

Suddenly, before Reanne could answer, they all smelt the smell of sour cookie dough and rotten peppermint mixed with reindeer dung. Hearing a low growl, they all turned toward the noise. Standing right behind the Tree was Krampus, come to claim the lives of those on the Naughty List.