Hello people of Fan Fiction. Yours truly is back with a new story just in time for Christmas. Now, this story will easily pass Christmas since I'm starting it now rather than at the beginning of the month. This is a Christmas story but it isn't what you'll expect, trust me. It will not revolve around romance. This is more of an escape story. Enjoy! *~*~*~*~*~ Day 1 I walk alone, down the street and I can see the lights on the houses, trees lit up and the many decorations that are signs that Christmas is coming. Beautiful, fabulous Christmas is coming, and I really can’t wait. The presents, the family, the mistletoe, the decorations, everything, even the childish tales of Santa, Rudolph, Frosty, and everything about Christmas, I love to no end. Sure it’s twenty-five days away, but its Christmas. I can’t imagine myself not wanting to celebrate, not being able to celebrate. I see my house, only probably a few steps away. I see my mother and little sisters, placing ornaments on the tree. Here in Holiday Village, as everyone calls out town, we go all out for Christmas. We have contests for the brightest house, the most decorative, and the overall best home, all for Christmas. My family has always won, for as long as I can remember. All five of us kids, our mother, and our father always do the best to deck the halls with as much holly as we can. My father picks up my one and only little brother, who is only four, and lets him place the star on the tree. I smile as I see it, stopping on the sidewalk. My older sister, who was watching the rest of the family put up the decorations, spots me and smiles, waving me over. I nod before she’s out of sight and I quickly run towards the door, grinning happily. I haven’t seen Holly in almost a year. She only comes home for Christmas because she always gets behind on her studies in college. She always gets a whole month and a week to visit because she stays at school almost all year round. So she’s so nice to pop up just for Christmas, the best time of the year. “Christina,” she squeals as she throws open the door, running towards me. The whole family has Christmas themed names. Holly, Christina, Joy, Belle, and Nick are the names for us children and Joseph and Noelle are my parents’ names. We take Christmas very seriously. But all of us here in Holiday Village do because it’s the time of the year where we all are with family. We have Christmas parties and Ugly Sweater parties and whoever has the ugliest sweater gets another ugly sweater. Yes, we’re weird, but who doesn’t want to see who has the ugliest sweater? “Holly!” I exclaim and she engulfs me in a big hug. Holly is nineteen, only two years older than I am. She has the family look: brown hair, green eyes, short, and a happy, shining face. All of us Kringles – yes, my last name is Kringle like Santa Claus, Kris Kringle – have the same look. Nick and Dad, however, have red hair, gray eyes, tall, and have the happy, shining face. We all look the same. Well, we are the Kringles. “Mom, Dad, Christie is back!” Holly calls and wraps an arm around me. I am shorter than she is, and I’m the shortest of the bunch. Not even five foot. It’s sad. We walk into the house and my parents smile and wave, going back to their decorating. I was only gone for an hour and the decorations are almost finished. “Looks great guys!” I exclaim, looking around. There are lights everywhere and garland and everything. But something seems missing, and I would know if something was missing. My observation skills are almost perfect. “Almost” being the key word. Let’s just say if it’s something that doesn’t concern Christmas, I don’t care. “Hey, are we missing something?” I ask, trailing off as it seems to be bubbling into the front of my thoughts. “We have the tree,” Mom starts. “The lights...” Dad pipes in. “The decorations…” Holly chirps. “The cards are out to be written in…” Belle, my ten year old sister, adds. “Wreaths are on every door…”Joy, my thirteen year old sister, smiles. “Halls are decked!” Nick, the four year old, exclaims. “Tinsel, that’s what we’re missing!” I gasp. Everyone exclaims and nods in agreement. “I’ll go to the store and grab some. Anyone need anything else?” “Pens! We’re gonna run out of them quickly!” Mom tells me and I nod, stepping back outside. “And I think that’s it!” “Great! See you guys in thirty!” I dismiss, walking out the door as everyone says that they’ll see me soon. I walk to the store, smiling happily. I don’t have a car yet, sadly, but I hope to get one soon. It’s not a long walk, though, only ten minutes. As I walk, I think about things a senior girl should: boys, school, and Christmas. Now, the topic of guys is actually rather low. As many guys there are here in Holliday Village, none of them catch any of my attention. School, one of the other topics, is another topic that hardly grasps my attention. It’s almost over, why should I really worry when break is two weeks away. Christmas, as always, is the number one topic swarming my brain. Ever since Holiday Village was established in the 1800s, the tradition of Christmas was a huge deal. And by huge deal, I mean it, it’s a huge deal. If you don’t celebrate it, that’s fine, but you’ll feel the awkward tension when your house is the only one not decorated. I mean, yeah, we’ve had some people move here who were another religion that didn’t celebrate Christmas. We have nothing against them, and we get it that they don’t celebrate it because of their religion, but it does get awkward. “Have a great Christmas break” turns into “Have a great holiday break,” which is a very foreign phrase. It just doesn’t make sense. But, eventually, when we get used to the other family not celebrating Christmas, they leave. It happens every time. As I walk, I spot a van, and yes, it’s like the creepy white vans. And, what do you know, to top the image off, some guy around my age and two other kids are being shoved in there. What a fantastic way to start the holiday season. Either way, there’s only one thing I can do. And I am not letting them get kidnapped, in the parking lot of the store, no less. “Hey, stop!” I scream, hoping someone can hear me. Of course, the only people who do over the loud clanging of bells and Christmas music is the bad guys. Go me. They snap their heads towards me, glance at each other, and the bigger, brooding man starts for me. Well, there’s only one thing I can do: run. I spin on my heel and speed away, cursing myself for wearing boots instead of tennis shoes. Of course, like the classic girl in those horror movies, I trip. I fall, face first on the sidewalk to add to that fun, and the man grabs me, yanking me up off the ground like I’m a rag doll. He covers my mouth and keeps me from looking at him. I scream and kick and struggle. To no prevail of course. And his wonderful friend, who blindfolded the boy and two kids, a boy and a girl, decide to do the same to myself. Because I am such a fighter, they bound my arms and legs and throw me into the van. And when I saw throw, I mean it. “Ouch,” I exclaim, and I hear the guy grunt in pain. “Oh, sorry,” I add, frowning. “It’s fine; it’s not like you had any choice,” he guy grumbles back in a smooth, deep voice. “You okay?” “I could be in the story buying tinsel and pens and then going home, being happy and celebrating Christmas, but no, I decided to be a helpful person,” I gripe angrily. “So, yeah, I’m great.” “No need to catch a hissy fit,” he scowls, or at least I think, “because it’s not like you had to help us.” “Gee, I was just trying to be a nice person and help you out,” I argue. “Besides, you seem like a new kid in town, and I don’t like it when new kids get pushed around, but obviously this so didn’t help.” “Yeah, maybe you could have done the sensible thing and ran for help, not call out and then run away,” he tells me and I can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. “I’m Chris, by the way,” he adds, “with a C, not a K.” “I hope your last name isn’t Kringle,” I smirk, and he chuckles. “No, it’s Davis, and what is your name?” “Christina Kringle,” I tell him, giggling slightly, but the giggling stops when the van does. I’m thrown back and I believe I, once again, hit the guy, Chris. He grunts in pain and I fall onto him, and I have no idea where the two kids are now that I think about it. I haven’t heard a squeak from either of them since I first saw them. I wish I could see the little ones. They are probably terrified. “Get them out,” a gruff voice says in the front of the van, scaring me to death. He sounds like a freaky monster. I move off Chris and reach for his hand or someone’s hand to hold onto because of that voice. It is so scary, like one out of my scariest nightmares. Someone’s hand clasps onto both of mine that are tied together, and it’s a tiny one at that, so it must be one of the kids. After I give the tiny hand a slight squeeze, the door opens and I’m pulled away from the hand, and I hear a slight squeak from the owner of the hand. I don’t know who is carrying me or where I am, and I really don’t like being taken from a normal life. After what seems like forever, my blindfold and restraints are taken away along with being carried. As I look around, I find myself in a room with Chris, the two kids, and two other teenagers around thirteen or fourteen. What a wonderful way to start December, captured by two loons who thinks it’s fun to mess with kids’ lives and Christmas. “Chris?” I ask, moving over to him, looking around to spot no one except us. “What are we doing here?” “Good question, Christina,” he answers. The two little kids are close to him, and the little girl grabs my hand. I quickly recognize that she was the one that held my hand earlier and I scoop her up in my arms. “That’s Sophie,” he tells me, “she’s my little sister, and this is Karson, my little brother and her twin.” Now that he says this, I realize how similar the three look. The girl has straight black hair and the boys have slightly curly blonde, but that’s the only difference between them. They all have blue eyes, similar facial structure, everything is practically the same. Hell, Karson looks like a little clone to Chris. And, if I do say so myself, Chris is very handsome. “I’m Carol,” one of the teens blurt out, “and this is Gabriel,” she adds, motioning to the boy. “Do you know where we are?” Chris asks them, since I’m too scared out of my mind. Why? Because who would take these kids when their families are scared. My family is probably worried sick. I mean, yeah, I have my phone, but I know that if I grabbed it and tried to call my parents or Holly, the freaky guy who brought us here would probably walk in and be like, “Ha, nice try,” take it, and break it. Yeah, I’m not going to do that. “All I know is that we’re out of Holiday Village,” Carol replies timidly, sadness washing over her face. At the look of confusion on Chris’s face, she adds, “Our home, where all of us live.” “The town you just moved to, Jingle Ville, is called Holiday Village, because it just sounds better and fits our town theme,” I explain, shrugging. Yes, our town is named Jingle Ville. Don’t ask me why, because frankly, no one knows. We just know that it’s weird and we really hate the name. Though it’s not like we can automatically change the name. So, we just call our home Holiday Village. “Right,” he mumbles. “Okay, so who are these guys?” “Don’t know, though I heard one of them call the other Dave,” Gabriel finally speaks. He sounds extremely scared out of his mind. He is gripping Carol’s hand tightly, and she has her head on his shoulder, almost snuggling. Like they’re dating. God, wouldn’t it suck that you have a date and having a great time and suddenly, you and your date are kidnapped? This just gets worse and worse. And I didn’t even have to be here, I just tried to be a good person and help, but obviously that didn’t work. “What did you guys do to be here?” I hear Carol ask, but I’m too focused on the crying child in my arms. I don’t know when Sophie started crying, but it breaks my heart to feel her sobbing into my chest. “I don’t know,” Chris admits, “but I know that Christina over there was trying to help us before she got caught too.” I nod slightly, meanwhile cooing to the child in my arms, telling her she will be home before Christmas. Because she has to be home by Christmas, she has to go back to her family. She’s so precious and small; she’s got to be seven at the most. And, really, what sick man kidnaps seven year old girls? Why would someone kidnap children, especially for what seems like no reason at all? It really sickens me to know all this. What the hell? After what feels like hours of silence except for the sniffles of Sophie and my comforting murmurs, we finally hear a voice. “Alright,” I hear that scary, gruff voice say. “It’s time for a little dinner. Eat up.” The man walks in, and I look up only to find myself scared out of my mind. His voice is scary as hell, sure, but he seriously looks like a buff version of Jason or Freddy Kruger, or both. He actually is so scary; I really don’t want to describe him. But, to say the least, he looks like a human-sized Hulk without the green and the fact that he’s uglier. Like, a lot. I hold Sophie tight so she won’t look up, and then he leaves. He left six plates of…I don’t know what that is. It looks like mush. Just a big glob of mush, that’s what I see. “No one’s really going to eat that right?” I ask, staring at the repulsing food. I look around and Sophie sticks her head out, her eyes red as can be, and quickly hides her face when she sees the food. Looks like I’m not the only one who is repulsed by that…whatever it is. “I think I’ll pass,” Carol mumbles, her face turning a sickly green at the sight. I look around the room, searching for a trashcan on some sort. The room has five beds, one for each person, except since I showed up out of the blue, there’s one missing, which makes me think they were seriously planning it. There’s an adjoined bathroom, thank goodness, but I don’t see any type of shower or bath. There’s a sink, and that’s pretty much it. And, really, it’s rather small with all of us, plus the beds, in the room. “I don’t hear any takers so,” I say, my voice trailing off as I pick Sophie up, as she’s not very heavy, as I stand and grab a plate. The mush looks horrible and I walk towards the sink. I see a garbage disposal, so I turn on the water and the disposal and dump the mush down the drain. Another plate comes to my side and I see Chris and Karson holding the rest of the plates. I dump the mush away, and quickly it’s down the drain and out of sight. “Thanks,” I mumble as I shut off the water and Karson gives me what I believe is a grin, but it looks more like a grimace. “Yeah, welcome,” Chris shrugs. “What time is it, do you know?” he asks everyone, though still looking at me. I pull my phone out of my pocket, and look no service, and it’s almost nine. Once I tell this to everyone, and that I have no service, they nod, and Chris picks Sophie out of my arms. “They need to get to sleep,” he tells me, walking Karson to one of the beds. He and Sophie share a bed since they are small enough and everyone else has their pick at a bed. Gabriel and Carol pick the beds closest to each other and they hold hands as they lie in bed, murmuring to each other. They really must be a couple. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle their love for long. Chris takes the bunk bed and climbs onto the bottom bunk, and the bunk bed is close to the twin’s bed, and I have no choice but to pick the top bunk. With that, everyone goes to sleep, that is, except me. I constantly look at my phone, watching the battery and the time tick away. Once it hits midnight, I can’t help myself but shut my phone off and turning over to my side. “Twenty-four days until Christmas,” is the last thing I mutter before falling asleep. *~*~*~*~*~ The couple of Carol and Gabriel will be the only form of romance in this story. At least, maybe until the end of the story, but this story will not revolve around romance. Feedback is greatly appreciated.l