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By Kay Hanifen
Maven stared at her friend in shock as Mildred finished her story. Despite the warmth of the fire, she felt chilled to the bone. It had to be made up, right? There was no way Mildred accidentally summoned a demon. That was insane.
Is it? a voice in her head asked, one that sounded similar to the awful little voice she tried to forget. It wouldn’t be the craziest thing Maven had ever heard about demons.
Mildred’s eyes darted around the room as she seemed to take in everyone’s faces. Everyone seemed to have the same expression of vague worry; Ronnie, especially, shifted uncomfortably in his seat and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Everyone but the Innkeeper, that is. He sat comfortably in his chair, his giant puffball of a cat curled in his lap and listened to the whole thing with rapt curiosity. After a long, tense minute, Mildred broke out into a smile and laughed. “Gotcha!”
But the smile didn’t meet her eyes, and her laugh was forced. It seemed to be more of an attempt to salvage the mood than anything else.
Well, Maven could play along with that. Anything to ease the awkwardness in the room. “Damn, that was good. You would’ve scared the shit out of some Victorians back in the day.”
Mildred turned her smile Maven’s way, the relief obvious in her eyes. “Thanks. We all need a good scare every now and then.”
“It’s what keeps us on our toes,” Reverend Lane added. “I’ve always been fond of scary stories. Though half the time, I felt bad for the monster. They always seemed so lonely, and I guess I could relate to that. Until I met Ramona, that is.”
“Of course you would,” Kate muttered.
“You wanna share that with the rest of the class?” Maven had always been skeptical about going to church. Her family used to drag her and her sister every Sunday. She would complain the whole way there, the whole way back, and in the middle of the homilies and hymns sometimes too. God, she used to be such a brat as a kid.
But then she learned that evil lurked in the world, and she made sure to attend every Sunday. Anything to stay on both Santa’s and the universe’s nice list.
Reverend Lane’s congregation was the first one she felt she could tolerate. She had a way of welcoming everyone without judgment or self-righteousness, and as someone who definitely was not a people person, Maven could respect that. Hell, she even looked forward to most Sunday services now.
What she couldn’t respect were the holier-than-thou bitches like Kate. She had a perpetual sneer on her face, as though she thought she was better than everyone else. Usually, Maven could just roll her eyes and make a snarky comment before moving on, but right now, the inability to spend Christmas with her family and the loss of the show to make up for it, gave her a dangerously short fuse. And Kate had made the mistake of lighting it.
The bitch in question sniffed and glared down her nose at Maven. “Back in my day, insolence like that would have been beaten out of me.”
“And obviously you turned out just fine,” Maven sneered. “You’re just a completely well-adjusted, normal adult.”
“Okay!” Rachel exclaimed with a faux brightness before this turned into a fight. “That’s enough of that. It’s Christmas, so let’s not be jerks to each other, okay?”
Rachel was another rare authority figure she truly respected. Getting on her bad side felt like upsetting a beloved teacher. Losing Mrs. Ramona had left a gaping void in their choir. Maven thought it would be disbanded after The Christmas Without Music, but then Rachel came, and when they performed “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” for Reverend Lane, she truly smiled for the first time in a year. Rachel had worked so hard to make them great, so she had to be the most upset out of all of them.
Maven took a slow, cleansing breath, just like how she’d been taught. In goes the bad thoughts. Out goes the good thoughts. “Sorry,” she gritted out.
“You’re forgiven,” Kate replied primly, as though she hadn’t started it by making fun of Reverend Lane.
“So,” Mildred said, cutting through the awkwardness and changing the subject. “You can tell me now, right? Who got my name?”
Everyone exchanged glances. Finally, Bethany cautiously raised her hand. “It was me. I think.”
“You think?” Mildred repeated, her brows furrowing. “I feel like you would remember hunting down a discontinued cookie mix.”
She shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve been so busy that I probably just remembered you liked baking and grabbed the nearest mix from the pantry to give you. Sorry I didn’t put much more thought into it than that.”
Mildred smiled, though it again looked more like one done out of relief than genuine happiness about the gift. “Don’t be sorry. Somehow, you managed to pick one of my old favorites. So, thank you.”
Maven shivered and scooted closer to the fire. The blizzard really must have done a number on her because even with the heat of the flames crackling beside her, she couldn’t seem to get warm. When she moved, she spotted a box with her name on it underneath the Christmas tree. She felt an odd pull towards it, as though it was calling out to her, begging for her to open it.
“I’ll go next,” she offered without really knowing what she was saying. But no one seemed to object. So, she picked up the box, gave it an experimental shake, and took it back to her seat. Slowly, she untied the ribbon and unwrapped the gift.
“Shit!” she exclaimed, chucking the box away from her. The flap flew open, revealing the creepy-ass grinning face of a knockoff Elf on the Shelf. It was just the doll with no accompanying book. Whoever got it for her probably bought it second hand. At least, that was what she hoped was the reason for the book being gone. He didn’t come with a book either.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sensed Kate stiffen at the use of—in her words—coarse language, but quite frankly, Maven didn’t give a damn. “What the fuck?”
“Are you okay?” Brenda asked. “You went pale.” That was a bit rich, coming from her. Nothing weird had happened to her, but she still looked like she’d seen a ghost.
Maven forced a grin. “I’m fine. These fuckers just creep me out, you know?”
“Yeah, they’re preparing children for the surveillance state,” John said. Maven sometimes found him annoyingly self-righteous in a way similar to Kate, but at the moment, she was glad someone finally agreed with her.
“Thank you!” she exclaimed. “My mom and sister always looked at me like I was a conspiracy nut when I said that.”
“So, you had one as a kid?” Rich asked.
Maven rolled her eyes. Even though she’d grown out of her bratty phase, she still couldn’t bring herself to like that particular Christmas tradition. “Unfortunately. They got popular after I stopped believing in Santa, so I didn’t have one, but my sister did, and I hated that thing so much.”
Nice girls don’t lie, the hated voice seemed to whisper in her ear.
Getting to her feet, she picked up the discarded doll, telling herself that it was just a hunk of plastic, wire, and fabric. But as much as she tried to convince herself, she couldn’t stop the nausea curdling in her gut as she stared into those plastic eyes.
“Well, wait. I guess that was a lie. I did have an Elf on the Shelf once. Kind of. Not really. It’s a bit of a long, weird story. And I don’t expect you to believe me.” She laughed to herself, shaking her head. “Honestly, I barely believe it myself half the time.”
“What happened?” the Innkeeper asked, his voice gentle. But his bright gaze seemed to see through her like an x-ray machine to the soul. If she closed her eyes, she doubted she would remember much else about his face aside from the eyes.
“You don’t have to tell us what happened if you don’t want to,” Reverend Lane said, just as gently as the Innkeeper.
She laughed, shaking her head as she sat heavily back in her chair. “No, I feel like I should. Let me just set the scene for you.”
