December 22, 2025 • 49 mins
When six of history's most infamous serial killers mysteriously wake up at the North Pole on Christmas Eve, Santa offers them one final chance at redemption—but the Holiday Spirit doesn't work on everyone.
IN THIS EPISODE: It’s an original short holiday horror story from Jon Allen, called “Here Comes Santa’s Claws”. *** (Originally aired December 23, 2021)
SOURCES AND ESSENTIAL WEB LINKS…
“Here Comes Santa’s Claws” by Jon Allen, https://twitter.com/writerjonallen
Visit our Sponsors & Friends: https://weirddarkness.com/sponsors
Join the Weird Darkness Syndicate: https://weirddarkness.com/syndicate
Advertise in the Weird Darkness podcast or syndicated radio show: https://weirddarkness.com/advertise
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Weird Darkness theme by Alibi Music Library. Background music provided by Alibi Music Library, EpidemicSound and/or StoryBlocks with paid license. Music from Shadows Symphony (https://tinyurl.com/yyrv987t), Midnight Syndicate (http://amzn.to/2BYCoXZ) Kevin MacLeod (https://tinyurl.com/y2v7fgbu), Tony Longworth (https://tinyurl.com/y2nhnbt7), and Nicolas Gasparini (https://tinyurl.com/lnqpfs8) is used with permission of the artists.
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OTHER PODCASTS I HOST…
Paranormality Magazine: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/paranormalitymag
Micro Terrors: Scary Stories for Kids: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/microterrors
Retro Radio – Old Time Radio In The Dark: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/retroradio
Church of the Undead: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/churchoftheundead
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(Over time links seen above may become invalid, disappear, or have different content. I always make sure to give authors credit for the material I use whenever possible. If I somehow overlooked doing so for a story, or if a credit is incorrect, please let me know and I will rectify it in these show notes immediately. Some links included above may benefit me financially through qualifying purchases.)
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"I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." — John 12:46
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WeirdDarkness® is a registered trademark. Copyright ©2023, Weird Darkness.
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https://weirddarkness.com/SerialKillerChristmas
#WeirdDarkness #ChristmasHorror #SerialKillers #SantaClaus #HolidayHorror #TrueCrime #ScaryStory #HorrorStory #CreepyChristmas #NorthPole
IN THIS EPISODE: It’s an original short holiday horror story from Jon Allen, called “Here Comes Santa’s Claws”. *** (Originally aired December 23, 2021)
SOURCES AND ESSENTIAL WEB LINKS…
“Here Comes Santa’s Claws” by Jon Allen, https://twitter.com/writerjonallen
Visit our Sponsors & Friends: https://weirddarkness.com/sponsors
Join the Weird Darkness Syndicate: https://weirddarkness.com/syndicate
Advertise in the Weird Darkness podcast or syndicated radio show: https://weirddarkness.com/advertise
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Weird Darkness theme by Alibi Music Library. Background music provided by Alibi Music Library, EpidemicSound and/or StoryBlocks with paid license. Music from Shadows Symphony (https://tinyurl.com/yyrv987t), Midnight Syndicate (http://amzn.to/2BYCoXZ) Kevin MacLeod (https://tinyurl.com/y2v7fgbu), Tony Longworth (https://tinyurl.com/y2nhnbt7), and Nicolas Gasparini (https://tinyurl.com/lnqpfs8) is used with permission of the artists.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
OTHER PODCASTS I HOST…
Paranormality Magazine: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/paranormalitymag
Micro Terrors: Scary Stories for Kids: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/microterrors
Retro Radio – Old Time Radio In The Dark: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/retroradio
Church of the Undead: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/churchoftheundead
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
(Over time links seen above may become invalid, disappear, or have different content. I always make sure to give authors credit for the material I use whenever possible. If I somehow overlooked doing so for a story, or if a credit is incorrect, please let me know and I will rectify it in these show notes immediately. Some links included above may benefit me financially through qualifying purchases.)
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
"I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." — John 12:46
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
WeirdDarkness® is a registered trademark. Copyright ©2023, Weird Darkness.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
https://weirddarkness.com/SerialKillerChristmas
#WeirdDarkness #ChristmasHorror #SerialKillers #SantaClaus #HolidayHorror #TrueCrime #ScaryStory #HorrorStory #CreepyChristmas #NorthPole
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:08):
Welcome Weirdos. I'm Daryn Marler, and this is Weird Darkness.
Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore,
the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and
unexplained coming up in this episode. It's an original short
(00:30):
holiday horror story from John Allen called here comes Santa's Clause.
Now bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights,
and come with me into the weird darkness. Hey, look
(00:56):
up the stars. Do you see them? That's me? Okay,
maybe not. I'm stealing that stick from It's a wonderful life,
you know how. The stars are angels that talk to
each other. I thought i'd give this story a traditional
holiday vibe. That's what people are used to this time
of year, right, the whole feel good story thing. Personally,
(01:19):
I love the Christmas season. I loved it as a
human and I love it as an angel. Other angels
kid that I love it too much. Ariial. The other
eleven months of the year are just as important. They
tell me they're right, and I do try to treat
each day with the same passion, no matter of the month.
Something mystical happens around this time every year. Though it's
(01:43):
in films and music and books, it's in the air,
the Holiday spirit, it's everywhere. It envelops us, it overwhelms us.
It's a blanket of love, and I truly believe that
if the Holiday spirit could be sustained year round, this
would be a harmonious paradise, a fortress of infinite peace,
(02:05):
impervious to the darkness. The Holiday Spirit creates miracles. It
gives second chances and redemption. It is pure, unsullied light
as an angel. Though I see all things, I'm no fool.
I realize that even a fortress has cracks, and darkness
(02:28):
can seep in through the tiniest opening. I'm trying to
say the Holiday spirit is magical and visceral, and I
could regale a thousand tales of humanity's finest moments when
enchanted by this hypnotic utopia. But that's been done to death.
It's boring and ineffective. These stories no longer have impact
(02:50):
because they're so common. The Lifetime Network made a cottage
industry of it. To fully comprehend the importance of the
Holiday Spirit, another writer needs to pen a different chapter. Frankly,
the Holiday Spirit is dwindled in recent years, and I
need to take a different approach to save it. The
(03:12):
thing is, if it bleeds, it leads, right, Sorry, if
that doesn't resonate, that's an old newspaper industry saying. And
I died when print media was still a thing. If
you're wondering, I was hopped up on new coke and
fell from a scaffolding thing at a Banana Rama concert
while applying aquinet and taking polaroids simultaneously, And it was
(03:33):
a whole embarrassing to do that. I don't want to
talk about. But anyway, let me see how can I
modernize this? Okay, so say you're in the comments section online.
Nice comments are the holiday spirit. But the nice comments
get a like or two, and the trolls get a
million down votes but a lot of attention. Well, how
(03:57):
does this relate to the wanderers of the holiday spirit.
No one will pay attention if I ramble about glittery
unicorns and sugar rainbows. They want serpents and ominous clouds. Well,
I won't disappoint. It's impossible to embrace the marvel of
holiday spirit without understanding in existence without it. Fear is
(04:19):
the only way I save it and possibly you so
grant me a one time allowance as clickbait. I'm going
to troll your inner zen so you never take the
holiday spirit for granted again. It might save your life.
It all happened one Christmas Eve in a universe not
(04:39):
far removed from ours, when Santa bargained that the world's
most vile souls could be saved by the spirit. Now,
imagine you're hearing that whimsy sitcom segue music they always
use when they vanish into a dream sequence. Go ahead,
there's the harp music, and we're fading into blurry pixels.
(05:01):
Here we go, three two one. None comprehended the celestial
chaos that brought them together on Christmas Eve, and they
never would. They simply materialized from their various circumstances and
(05:25):
formed a line at the Christmas party outside of the
strange estate infamous serial killers, both reanimated and alive. Each
appeared as they had in their prime, and each carried
carefully wrapped gifts from an unknown origin, most standing in
shocked silence. One or two of the societal scourges was
(05:46):
so criminally insane that the unfathomable phenomenon at the moment
didn't even raise a question. It was as routine as
the seasonal, ugly Christmas sweaters and Santa hats they were
wearing against their will. The palicial estate itself was nestled
in a blanket of powdery white snow that extended beyond
what the human eye could register. It was akin to
(06:07):
being inside of a snow globe, and the genius savage
Edmund Kemper ascertained that they just might be trapped inside
something preternatural, as the universe of the moment ran parallel
to any previously known. The elven butler at the door,
adorned in bells and pointy shoes and bright eccentric shades
of red and green, collected the invites as each entered.
(06:32):
Being Christmas Eve, He'd rather be spreading joy and wonderment,
but instead founding himself playing greeter. Last year's embarrassing overdose
on cranberry sauce and gumdrops had led to this predicament,
so he took his punishment like an elf. His only
solace was how wonderful his clothing danced against the moonlight.
(06:54):
Charles Manson fronted the line, sauntering into the abode while
muttering nonsensical things to himself, as his wild eyes leered
and his wispy locks and unkempt beard posted large fluffy snowflakes.
Following the minuscule cult leader was the infamous Eileen Warnos,
who shrieked at the grandeur of the estate given her
poverty stricken past. Then Milwaukee's finest Jeffrey Dahmer, who remained
(07:19):
as distant and silent as he had been when alive
the first time. Richard Ramirez, the Nightstalker himself came next,
his rancid breath causing the butler to recoil in horror.
Even with his satanic essence, the puffy Christmas tree sweater
softened the madman John Wayne Gaizey strolled through in full
(07:40):
clown regalia, his oversized shoes emblazoned with images of Garland
and his makeup a fiasco of Yule Tide cheer. The
rotand monster eclipsed to the elf butler in wardrobe outrageousness.
A formidable task. With a little coaxing, the dutiful Elf
was able to corral Edmund Kemper, whose beautiful disturb mine
(08:00):
caused him to wander the estate grounds trying to find
clues that would explain this sudden, bizarre scene that had
sprung him from a prison cell to whatever this place was.
As he watched the butler right on his sheet from
right to left, the grand peculiarity, the gruesome goon knew
he no longer lingered on the earthly realm. This place
(08:23):
held something strange, something he couldn't figure, some type of
weird darkness. Upon completion, the butler, the Zuzu grew impatient
and checked his list.
Speaker 2 (08:38):
Hummm one missing.
Speaker 1 (08:40):
Zuzu thought, well, Paul, take it up with the boss lady.
Speaker 2 (08:44):
I'd better get inside before they spiked the egg dog
or start stabbing each other with candy canes.
Speaker 1 (08:50):
As Zuzu closed the castle like doors behind him, the
harrowing thud was overshadowed by Johnny Mathis on the speakers
as the old crooner bellowed Winter Wonderland to a party
that was slowly becoming vibrant. The main room that held
the get together was a power company's dream, as strands
of beaming lights hugged every inch. Mistletoe tickled the tops
(09:12):
of many ahead, which was actually a hazard for edmun Kemper.
His surreal height brought the sharp, prickly strand's eye level,
his glasses acting as a shield. Even in the madness
of the situation, The gargantuan co ed killer used his
intellect to describe mistletoe to absolutely no one in his
matter of fact way, it is an obligate heemi parasitic
(09:34):
plant in the order Saintilales. I've always found the plant's
order SAINTI Lales and relation to Christmas to be obviously ironic,
given that Kemper's lesson trailed off unheard Christmas trees massaged
every corner into long festive sycamore table, held the aforementioned eggnog,
(09:55):
a bull of punch, and nearly a thousand sugar laden confectioneries.
The big guy had even allowed alcohol, something Zuzu thought insane,
but the wager would be that the holiday spirit can
change the worst of the worst from their natural environment,
and since drinking had been so natural to some of
the killers, the detail remained. Even the unpopular fruitkick held
(10:19):
an appetizing pull, and the pleasant aroma of something baking
in the kitchen intermingled with a lingering scent of pine
and pastries. Other traditions aided in the holiday spirit hanakadradals
and manoras and golden gelt interspersed with ramadon Hannah lanterns
and eyed countdown chalkboards, Christmas decor blended with quansa canaras
(10:42):
and zawadi and unity cups in a perfect cacophony. Zuzu
side such majesty surrounding such tragedy. Holiday spirit dictated redemption.
But that was for people. These were insidious demons. His
place was not for them. Still, the big guy wanted
(11:03):
what the big guy wanted. His own work ended, and
Zuzu sought the head Elf Capra and informed her of
the missing name from the lists, before passing the evening's
events on to the jolly ones. Sassy Lieutenant, we'll have
more of our story. Here comes Santa's Clause by John Allen,
(11:27):
When weird darkness returns. The party had begun with a
spark and morphed into an explosion in quick fashion. The
(11:51):
first phase of the experiment continued for a few hours,
and the insidious Cretans laughed and drank and ate like
royalty in their new existence. As if this was not
the most bizarre occurrence in the history of normal or
paranormal misbehavior. Became the theme of this squandered second chance
In a blink. Decoy elves served as stand ins to
(12:13):
give the party a buzz a regrettable choice. Capra watched
from the corner of the room with a keen eye
as the dreadful subjects wrecked the room, leaving a tornatic
disaster of wreaths and tinsel and stockings behind. Elves were
threatened and harassed. John Wayne Gacy placed one of Sanna's
helpers atop a towering cabinet and joked about an elf
(12:34):
on a shelf. The serial killers themselves were separated from
one another, as well as their creative makeshift weaponry. Aileen
Wernos's intentions with a gingerbread man were less than honorable idiots.
They haven't learned a thing, Capra thought, they won't and
they can't. I told the big guy, Missus Kringle and
(12:57):
I both did. They can't be saved unsalvage beasts. As
the Brendaly classic Rocking Around the Christmas Tree spun on
the record player, the disruption from the miscreants caused the
reindeer outside to stir, calmed only by Rudolph's mesmerizing red nose.
This was not going well. The holiday spirit was lost
(13:17):
on these people. Marry an ounce of kindness or humanity
had reared itself. Saved from hades or san Quentin. Gratitude
should have been paramount rather. Capra eventually compiled the following
list for the big guy.
Speaker 2 (13:32):
Subject Manson has attempted two coups and continues to attempt
to manipulate the elves into doing something rich. He has
also proclaimed himself as God twice. The subject warn Us
has consistently propositioned various elder elves upon acquiring whether they
have any scratch on them. Follow Up intensions can be
(13:53):
assumed based on past transgressions. Subject Dama has drunk at
a feverish pace and making strange glances toward isolated elves
since arrival. Again history dictates nefarious intentions. Subject to Gacy
has employed standard clown routines and has invited some of
the younger elves to hang out alone somewhere See above
(14:17):
about predictable intent. Subject Temper remains the most behaved, though
his elevated heart rate among the female elves is a
concern based again on his criminal background.
Speaker 1 (14:28):
His charm and normalcy need to be monitored.
Speaker 2 (14:32):
Subject Ramirez has constructed pentagrams from licorice rope and declaring
Christmas a pagan institution causing the removal and re education
of certain gullible elves based upon the sordid and violent
nature and history of all parties. It is my opinion
that this experiment has and will continue to fail. I
declare that Phase one, interacting with regular society amidst the
(14:55):
holiday spirit, is a failure.
Speaker 1 (15:00):
The hand carved wall clock read forty five minutes until midnight.
Outside the ever rising snow mountain. Coated against the window,
Capra watched the smoke plumes from the fireplace that kept
the cozy adjacent bungalow warm. The Kringles preferred their nook
to the opulence and decadence of the main estate. Jessica
Kringle's silhouette graced the glass panes of the horny bungalow,
(15:23):
and Capra knew that the real boss at the operation
was helping her lovable chairub husband prepare for the busiest
night of the year. She wondered how the big guy
would fare tonight since he went gluten free. Last year's
Keto experiment was a disaster. Phase two of the experiment
was drawing upon her, and the head Elf could no
(15:43):
longer put it off. It was time to interact with
the despicable ones. As they interacted with each other an affair,
Capra greatly bemoaned because the outcome was text book predictability.
The sooner it was over, though, the sooner she could
celebrate Christmas. She had just did her candy striped leggings
and got on with it. Capra summoned the six murderers
(16:06):
to a round table lathered in point setya and ornaments
and cookies and all that sparkles, then used her elven
power to lower the stereo volume, muting Earth a kit.
Before she could sing for Santa to hurry down her chimney.
Capra appeared in the middle of the table, sitting cross
legged and floating in a slow rotation to address the
six filled chairs with a lone vacant chair pushed off
(16:28):
to the side.
Speaker 2 (16:30):
Merry Christmas, bad seeds, welcome to the north Pole, Welcome
to your party, Please sit.
Speaker 1 (16:37):
A murmur trickled amongst the guests. As they sat, Capra
composed herself. Life to her was love and good tidings
and the murdering filth that surrounded her was an affront
to every belief she held. Still, she promised Kringle she
would contain her sharp tongue and moderate the debacle with fairness.
Excuse me, can you get back to work please? We
(16:59):
are busy tonight. Is I'm sure you're aware of, Capra
said towards Charles Manson a second glance, and she giggled
at her mistake. Apologies, mister Manson, your stature confused me
with the elf hat. I mistook you for a worker.
My apologies. Now everyone welcome. It's Christmas Eve, as you
can gather given the location and all you see. That said,
(17:22):
it doesn't matter anyway. I'll assume I'm.
Speaker 2 (17:24):
Inclined to believe religion is not something any of you
have accidentally stubbed your toe on. Well, anyway, the head
elf side, my name is Capra, and I'm your overseer
for the next event. Some of you have rotted in
hell fire and brimstone, others prison. If you're a tooth,
you've been rotting in mister Ramere's mouth.
Speaker 1 (17:44):
The night Stalker and is Foreboding Scowl tried to lunch
at Capra, but an unseen force whipped him back to
a seat. I'm sorry, mister Ramerez. It was right there
and I couldn't not say it. I promise no more
jabs of you. I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself.
I should say this though, to everyone.
Speaker 2 (18:03):
No attacking me or anyone else. Keep your hands inside
the ride at all times. Your evil inflamations are useless
here as you just saw. Consider this a field trip
only instead of a tour guide. To keep you on
the right track, you have invisible shock pillars. There are
forces that'll stop you before you even think it, so
(18:24):
behave got it moving on. My life is devoted to
Christmas in the holiday spirit, and you all have never
basked in its glory. You've never bathed in the waters
of altruism and goodwill. Quite the opposite, i'd say, But nonetheless,
the big Guy knows best. So here we are. It's
(18:46):
been a big failure so far, but I'm here to
try to instill this spirit inside of you people. That's
my task. It would seem I have a better chance
of not popping the bubble wrap when wrapping presents, but
here we are. Obviously you've been unable to reintegrate among others,
so that was a misfire. I figured as much and
(19:07):
had an idea. I'm going to try one sure fire
thing that always spreads joy.
Speaker 1 (19:14):
I won't spread joy a spreader all over the Los Angeles.
Richard Rameirez crackled as he looked to his peers for
a validation. Capra motioned her magical hand and invisible muffle
covered the night stalker's mouth.
Speaker 2 (19:27):
Not the great start, mister Rameirez. Anyone else wished to
speak up? Mister Gacy, missus Wernos, Capra asked, silence, great,
Now it's time for Secret Santa. In front of you
is a gift, and on that gift is a name.
Makes sense now, right, go ahead and slide it over
(19:47):
to that person.
Speaker 1 (19:48):
You all know each other, Capra sighed as she looked
at the time. Go on slowly. The Sinister six began
to do so. Charles Manson was the first to speak up,
same mama, just seeing this not my bag? Dig what
happens after this? Do we get to go back to
our lives? That's the only holiday miracle I need. I've
(20:10):
been exed out of your society since I was born.
I've been a political prisoner since day one. Because the
rules of an unwell world are not the rules of me.
I don't belong in hell anymore than I belong in heaven.
I'm just a man of peace in my mind's eye.
My thoughts like fires in your cities. What's the endgame here,
(20:32):
sist love, it's my exile over or all the piggy
is gonna continue to cast straight my free will. Everyone
stared once their eyes stopped rolling. Oh shut up already,
you insufferable, babbling lunatic. Eileen Wernos interrupted, You vomit words
that don't go together. And I ain't never understood how
you got damn kids to do your killing for you,
(20:54):
you coward. They're as crazy as you, which is noneier
than squirrel done. Capra cracked a smile and observed the
detestable fiends like a rubber necking driver if she wasn't
allowed to insult them. Listening to the ogres roast each other,
what's the next best thing? Hey, no, your please, woman,
Sanity is a small box. Insanity is everything. Listen here,
(21:17):
Mama Manson countered. Don't you go judging me, nlest you
want to be judged. I won't, though, because I exist
on a higher plane. I'm the invisible man, the ghost specter.
You can't see. I can't judge any of you, because
I have no malice against you, no ribbons for you.
But I think that it's high time that y'all start
(21:39):
looking at yourselves and judging the life that you live in.
Edmund Kemper chimed in with his measured, collected thoughts. Charlie,
even in death, you haven't changed, same guy with your
same gibberish. Back the pen in Vakerville. Just stop. The
sixties are over. No one hears onsd Your gimmick is
(22:01):
a joke in this era. Now you're a place woman,
You're a relic. Friend. Just stop already. Perhaps would be
prudent for all if we allowed our hostess the prospect
of executing her disquisition. I'm certain everyone shares a peaked
interest into our current situation. Capra began to speak, but
was again interrupted by Ramerez's raised hand. Capra released his
(22:24):
muffle with reluctance. Yeah, Chuck, you good stretched there, Richard
Grimerez sneered. Quit acting like a damn clown. Everyone he
hates those creepy things. I'm sorry, Gaysey, except for Pogo,
of course. I want to help us kitties loved Bogo, right, freak,
John Wayne, you oughta have that name revoked. The Duke
was a man. You target practice is too good for you.
(22:48):
John Wayne Gacy managed to growl, even though his face
was painted in a permanent smile, a comical juxtaposition. Don't
apologize to him, Richie, he can't do anything to you.
You're older than twelve. Buernos laughed. Even amongst killers, anyone
who hurt children was the lowest of all, and the
group began to pile on Gacy. The table then turned
(23:10):
on each other in spurts and began to argue in
one combustible cartoon bubble of expletives, except for Jeffrey Dahmer,
who was half asleep. Copper noticed this and waved her
hand once more, the mystical motion, rendering everyone mute.
Speaker 2 (23:24):
Mister Dahmer, you haven't said a word.
Speaker 1 (23:26):
Caper said, are you you?
Speaker 2 (23:28):
Look? Are you drunk?
Speaker 1 (23:31):
Dahmer peered through his thick glasses with red eyes and
shrugged in the affirmative. Okay, you know what this is
to be.
Speaker 2 (23:38):
A normal secret center exchange, So just I don't know,
shut up and open your gifts.
Speaker 1 (23:45):
Keper looked at the clock and shook her head in disgust.
Counting the minutes your dead Dama keeper knew she should
have kept them gagged. Richard Ramirez was not thrilled with
his gift. Dahmer rose from his glossy headspace just enough
to protest. I didn't buy you that. They don't have
gift shots in hell. I just appeared here like you did,
(24:05):
and this package was there. Relax, Ramirez, Ramerez, would not
you think it's funny a toothbrush. I'll rip your heart out, Dama?
How about that? This time, I'll rip your heart out
and salty it with peppers and onions and eat a soul.
Speaker 2 (24:20):
Capra side, mister Ramirez. Mister Dahmer is correct. I don't
know where the gifts came from, but he didn't choose yours.
Speaker 1 (24:27):
None of you did, Capra informed the hygiene challenged lunatic
while peaking at the Big Guy's bungalow. Outside. The front
door was a jar, which meant it was almost time.
Shall we move on whatever? Ramerez replied, pledge allegiance to
the devil, and people just become plean, rude. You know,
even psychopaths have emotions. No thank you or appreciation.
Speaker 2 (24:51):
Kaepra mentally noted minor slight with each gift was a
simple test for the subjects and the reactions sement my
first conclusion about their inability to change in fighting threats
of murder, no attempts at better mental empathy or gratitude,
which means no holiday spirit. These two fellowship among peers
(25:13):
under the holiday spirit is not looking great.
Speaker 1 (25:17):
Manson's turn came, and as he unwrapped his present from
Edmun Kemper, his pupils became a fiery sea of evil
that resembled a rorshack test. Kemper spoke before anyone else.
Could you literally just heard Capra, Charlie, I'm not the
one who chose this gift to bestow upon you. Don't
you render it quite dubious that I would purposefully give
you shoe lifts? This whole affair seems to me a
(25:39):
test of some sort. Capra thought again, no gratitude. No
gratitude equals a bad attitude. Kemper, perhaps he is on
to us, though maybe that one forty five IQ is
real time to shut him up.
Speaker 2 (25:56):
Let's move along, folks. Missus Wareouse, please open your again.
Speaker 1 (26:00):
Found mister Ramirez, she did and like the others, rage
overcame her peroxide. Oh go to hell? Whoever did this? Yeah?
I have roots this show, big freakin' deal man. It's
jabs like this man that made me what I was.
I said before, this world is nothing but evil, and
my evil just happened to come out because of the
circumstances of what I was doing. Keep laughing, whoever done this?
(26:23):
Keep laughing. The rest of the exchange was much the same,
no genuine moments of harmony and peace. Gapper tried not
to snicker at the intentional bullying nature of the presence,
though her gleeful grin could not be contained. The phantom
gifter dictated manson gifting a vegan cookbook to Dahmer. Warnos
gave Gaysey a book titled Clowns for those not good
(26:46):
enough to be a Mine. Gaysey himself bestowed upon the
brilliant ed Kemper the entire Doctor Seuss collection, with a
note stating that these would replace his current library of
academic literature. At the end of it all, no one
showed progress. Not a whiff of Christmas virus attacked their
malevolent immune systems. Even the prank test gifts should have
(27:07):
been a welcome reprieve from the existence they came from.
Yet they weren't sprung from prison. Hell. It did not matter.
The North Pole Haven light destroyed and the Secret Santa
Exchange a bust. The violent subjects were given a plethora
of opportunities, but as the night whimpered and midnight loomed,
Capra had no choice. Phase two was a massive failure.
(27:31):
On the list their names went, with little surprise to her.
At the top of the list was the word naughty.
We'll have more of our story. Here comes Santa's Clause
by John Allen. When weird darkness returns, Capra hummed the
(28:10):
gene Auchry standard without words. As she sang it, she
would have crooned, here come Santa Claus. Here comes Santa Claus.
Right down, Santa Claus Lean. There was a reason for this.
The big guy always had a plan. The commotion rumbled
from the chimney, causing Murderer's Road to stop throwing things
at one another and freeze in silence as they remained
forcefully seated at the table. Oh, the hardy catchphrase bellowed
(28:35):
from the chimney into the room with gusto. Before a
word could be uttered, jolly old Satan. Nick Chris Kringle
himself burst into existence. Capra smiled at the sight of
the big guy. The killers expressed shock, disbelief, and fear.
The clock struck midnight as he appeared off in the distance.
Elves cheered the arrival of Christmas morning. Ry Christmas Jewel,
(28:57):
Welcome to my humble abode built on hopes and dreams
and good will of humanity. How has your evening been
so far? I trust Capra has showered you with all
the holiday spirit. Each hateful killer had a thought in
the moment. Edmun Kemper was a genius, and genius's tenderblie
on mathematical logic, so he could not rationalize gods and
(29:19):
non scientific beings, let alone Santa. Thus he deduced himself
lost in a fever dream. John Wayne Gayzey was upset
that he no longer claimed the title of most outrageous,
morbidly obese man in the room. Eileen Warnas eyed the
bag tossed over Santa's shoulder and envisioned shooting the white
Beard and stealing his lute. Charles Manson's deranged mind went
(29:42):
into an internal, incomprehensible rant tying Chris Kringle to capitalism,
conspiracy theories, and the system, and other various loopy mansonesque fallbacks.
Richard Marrez lamented that his object of worship, Satan, spelled
Santa if the letters were slightly rearranged. Jeffrey Dahmer just
figured he was still feeling the effects of the eggnog
(30:04):
and seeing things. Capra hugged Santa like a child hugs
her father and handed over her notes. She then left
the room without word, as if something was about to
happen that she did not want to witness. Santa skimmed
the notes and was visibly disappointed with the list. He
even checked it twice. He decided right then that Phase
(30:24):
three would be tossed aside entirely, as the notes turned
in to kindle in the fireplace. You're no children, Santa
said to the adult murderers as he climbed and paced
the very tabletop where Capra had held court. I know
everything about who you once were. I also know everything
that happened to night on Christmas Eve. On the less,
needless to say, I'm quite disappointed. I pulled some favors
(30:48):
because I believe in rehabilitation and redemption, but mostly because
I believe that the holiday spirit can save everyone and
change the world. But it appears missus Kringle was correct, Hugain,
I'm just a hopeless optimist. I suppose where my manners,
we should always feast on Christmas Day, no matter what
(31:10):
you celebrate. Santa snapped his fingers and a plate of
beef and vegetables instantly appeared. To everyone, Eat up children,
Happy holidays. Now where was I, uh, mister Santa. Jeffrey
Dahmer slurred through a squint of sobriety. My plate is
all vegetables, Santa chuckled. Finally he wakes up. We'll get
(31:31):
to that in a few Jeffrey dive in everybody, and
so they did. As Santa went on about his disappointment,
the entire crew gobbled as if they'd never eaten before,
as if sudden, ravenous hunger was foisted upon them. The
feast was scrumptious, and to dicting, Santa's words were drowned
out by the food. Kringle noticed this. Yes, yes, eat up, children,
(31:55):
Santa said mid sentence as he took a break from
dressing them down. Seconds are available as well, Hey, Sanna,
Tommer chimed in with impatience. He yelled his plate of
vegetables for Sanda to see. Santa shushed him and everyone
else for that matter. Their ability to speak had ceased
with a simple motion. It was obvious where Caepra had
learned her tricks. The speech continued, the reason in most
(32:18):
of your cases that I brought you back to life.
Santa's words were background noise until the food disappeared. Then
the reviled predators, with nothing going in or out of
their mouths, finally had no choice but to listen. Their
ears joined in as the round mound of joyful sound
was winding down. So it is with great regret that
I must inform you all that even the holiday spirit
(32:41):
cannot save you. You are simply abhorrent, just disgusting beings.
You see, people exist in the world with terrible upbringings,
much like some of you had, but they don't become
what you did. Some of you didn't even have bad childhoods,
yet all of you chose. And that simply isn't festive, now,
(33:02):
is it. I didn't want it to come to this
because I truly believed the season would move you. What
part of my pact with the higher ups was that
if I couldn't convert you, well, I'd have to punish
you immediately. So that's where we find ourselves. Glances flickered
across the table. Though he couldn't speak, Charles Manson began
to laugh without control, his body rot with awkward bobbing.
(33:26):
Santa glared at the impishellion and alloud words. What's possibly
so humorous that you're interrupting me, mister Manson? Manson allowed
himself to laugh beyond the mark of obnoxiousness before speaking,
Who were fat man? I was just laughing at you, Jack?
He said something about punishing us. How are we getting
(33:46):
cool for Christmas? My life is a love cool. You
think some commercialized imperialist pig is gonna scare me? You
know a long time ago, being crazy man something. Nowadays
everybody's crazy, including you. Pata Christmas. We're not in Wonderland anymore, Alice.
(34:09):
You think you're witchy enough to play Janny justice? You
can't kill what? Santa snapped his fingers and Manson fell
quiet again. It was quite convenient the human mute button.
That man simply never shuts up. I'm sorry to be
so brash. Children. It's just that I've never heard so
many words spoken that amount to nothing. Mister Manson, I
(34:32):
don't believe actual witches are too appreciative of you using
that word witchy. In fact, I know you're not the
spokesperson they'd choose. I've heard Bathsheba say as much. Oh,
I guess that's a slippery secret. Yes, witches are real
as well. We all are, except the tooth fairy. That's
just a ridiculous notion. Now, everyone about mister Manson's questioning
(34:56):
of your punishment. Well, it's already begun. The big guy
continued to walk across the table, veering down at the
empty plates. You may have noticed a seat at the
table as empty as your plates, Santa continued. Well, it
belongs to one of your contemporaries. Oh he's here, all right,
Sad Sad denis Seriously, who gives themselves a nickname that pathetic?
(35:20):
Wanna be? Bet k Geeza. I don't want to be
complimentary if your collective atrocities, but he literally does not
deserve a seat at the table with you. No originality,
stealing everyone else's calling card. Well, the hack has been hacked,
So problem solved. Season's eatings, though did he taste like failure?
(35:41):
Aileen Renolds grunted as if to regurgitate, though hermetically closed
mouth wouldn't allow it. Gasey pointed at the plate in
muffled fear. The first time eating actually scared him. Kemper
allowed a slight smile at the cleverness of it all. Yes, children,
in this case for you all, BTK stands for biting
through kidney. Here's in fact, kidneysplean liver, all of it.
(36:07):
Mister Ramirez, you told mister Dahmer earlier that you wanted
to eat his heart. I hope this is close enough.
Oh and mister Dahmer, I know you enjoyed a sort
of meal, so of course I had to disallow you access.
That's why your plate was devoid of meaty substance. How
were your brucoly florets? Though the collective faces of the
(36:30):
monster squad became a mix of ashen, sullen silence and
on a brashed rage with a few punches of violent disgust,
Santa now held their attention. So now that we have
full bellies, children, I believe it's about that time I
can't waste any more precious moments on you. There are
a billion good little boys and girls out there, nestled
(36:52):
all snugging their beds, while visions of sugar plums dancing there. Well,
you know the rest. Why do you look so sad?
This is your dou Gasey's clown makeup began to cake
into his tears. Ramirez snarled like a chained, rabid dog.
Manson seemed unbothered. Sadness overcame Saint Nick's plump, pink cheeks
as he fell into deep thought. Oh, I'll tell you what, mongrels.
(37:17):
The spirit didn't grab you, and the season didn't change you.
But there is one last thing. No, I shouldn't. Well
it's Christmas, But Missus Kringle says, I'm too much of
a softy. Santa scratched his thick, cottony beard, leaving the
motley crew of sadists in suspense. No, okay, now I'm Santa.
(37:40):
This is what I do. I will tell you children what.
There is one last cog in this machine, and that's
the Christmas miracle. This is the final chance at salvation.
I mean it. If you tell the Missus the deal
is off, this is quite simple. Now raise your hand
if you believe yourself the brightest of the bunch up
(38:01):
with the hands of Edmund Kemper and Charles Manson. Everyone
else nodded towards Kemper with urgent, pleading eyes, begging Sanna
not to pick Manson. Santa allowed Kemper to have a
voice once again. How's your scientific brain rationalizing me? Now?
Mister Kemper still think this is a fever bream? Oh,
I can read your thoughts. Why wouldn't I? I already
(38:22):
see you when you're sleeping, I know when you're awake,
and so on. Kemper clearness wrote, I'm flexed and bewildered
and have gained newfound faith in law. Sir. Upon further reflection,
Einstein once said, if you want your children to be intelligent,
read them fairy tales. And I believe this is tantamount
to a white left hand motion for silence. We get it,
(38:45):
mister Kemper, You're intelligent. The only task I have for
you requires memory, not intellect. Your answer will decide whether
you all meet a grizzly death en route to eternal damnation,
or whether you are released back into the world where
you will hopefully become advocates for the holiday spirit. It's
a very simple question. Really, if you have any holiday
(39:07):
spirit at all, you'll remember certain festive details that helped
shape this evening's celebration. That's what a wonderful thing actually
is made of small building blocks of good that builds
something well wonderful. One memory of one building block of
good is all you need to remember. Are you ready,
mister Kemper. Kemper nodded great. Right before I arrived, my
(39:31):
beloved Capra was humming a little Christmas jingle. It's a
wildly popular and classic tune that you hear non stop
this time of year. A few bars give a normal
person the tingles. Memories past and future can hang on
a simple song, mister Kemper, for you and your fellow
murderers who have wrecked and destroyed lives and families and
hope in humanity. If you can tell me the name
(39:54):
of that song, you were free. That's it, as simple
as that, nothing more, nothing less. If the tiniest, most minute,
microscopic trace of holiday spirit exists within you, you'll remember
this song that makes so many people so very happy.
One percent of one percent of one percent of you
and your friends here might be human if you can
(40:15):
recall a lovely classic tune. So for the last time,
I ask, are you ready, mister Kemper. Kemper exhaled and
faced his peers get another entree into the realm of
irrational logic. Of all serial killers in the room, maybe
even in history, Kemper was the most self aware of
his evil transgressions. Such a wager, such a final opportunity
(40:38):
for salvation, seemed cosmically unfair when measured against his sins.
There had to be a catch. Kemper knew he should
burn forever for his sins. A lifetime of murder should
not be erased by a round of name that tune.
Kemper's memory of Capra was vivid and clear, and he
began to mimic her humming. The table listened within tense focus,
(41:01):
nodding along. Gasey was the first to match the humming
and slapped his hand on the table, signaling that Kemper
was on track. Whenos registered as well and nodded with fervor,
Manson and Ramirez seemed confused, no surprise to anyone. Dahmer
was just really hammered and couldn't care less. I've got
it Santa. Kemper finally stated, with confidence in his head.
(41:23):
He watched Gene Autry performed the song on TV long
ago as a child at his grandparents' house. The clarity
was as if he was in the front row. Santa
crouched down in front of Ed Kemper from his tabletop vantage,
mirroring Kemper's gaze. All right, mister Kemper, I gave you
a steel, stilted pogo stick for Christmas when you were nine.
It was the most important thing in your life at
(41:44):
the time. It seems not much has changed. Ironically, Will
I be giving you the most important thing in your
life again this Christmas? The chance to begin anew Kemper
hummed the jingle a final time to secure his answer,
and flashed a small smile. I do believe you will,
jolly one, because the answer is here comes Santa Claus.
(42:06):
The serial killer collective dared not move. Kemper did not
break his eye lock with Santa, and Santa displayed no emotion.
That cliche about cutting tension with a knife was apt.
Only with this group knives were a bad idea. Santa
slowly rose and turned away, standing for too long and
staring into the void without moving his portly body. He
(42:28):
eventually rotated his head to look down on Kemper. Well, children,
it appears you've got me. You did. You've got me
so sad that your answer is incorrect. Santa spun around
with supernatural speed and outstretched his arms through his white gloves.
Spiky wooden talons as thick as a sequoia and as
(42:48):
sharp as a syphe breached the fabric and grew into long,
menacing shears. In one swoop Edmund Kemper was beheaded by
the right hand of Santa. Gasped. The Jolly One's face
morphed into maniacal madness as he confronted them. Even without
a head, this guy is like a foot taller than
everyone else. The correct answer would be here comes Santa's
(43:13):
clause trick question. Perhaps, but since the holiday spirit didn't
move you, it's my job to move you into holiday spirits.
That's a fun way to say. You're all gonna become spirits, ghosts,
ghosts of Christmas. And I'm not talking about Dickens, Casey,
you Dollar general, Pennywise. I've lost a lot of clients
(43:37):
because of your sick perversion. I live to make children happy,
and that means this is going to be extra painful
for you. You took their souls, I take your lower intestine.
Santa lunged with both Claus and eviscerated the buffoonish stain
of humanity before facing the others once again. You didn't
really think I would reward children on the nauty list,
(43:59):
did you? On the thirteenth day of Christmas? I give
to you sweet bloody justice, scary Christmas sickles Outside the door,
Capra and Zuzu checked the harness on Blitzer and Dancer,
calling the animals and pretending not to hear the massacre inside.
Santa's jolly Ho ho ho with each kill did not
(44:19):
match the gory ambiance inside the Clash of realities, so
chilling that Frosty the Snowman pulled his hat to cover
his ears. Hiding in the shadows, crampis looked on in envy.
(44:43):
The conclusion to John Allen's Here Comes Santa's Clause is
up next on Weird Darkness. Hey, it's Ariel again. Pretend
(45:12):
that dreamy segue music just brought you back to me.
The blurriness is now three D again, and everything is normal.
Crazy story, right, I know angels are supposed to be
uplifting and all, but times have changed, and I told
you a new approach was needed to save the holiday spirit.
Am I wrong to say that if you kill people
with kindness, wouldn't you keep them alive with cruelty? It's
(45:36):
tough to imagine Santa is a killer. In fact, not
much is more cruel than Santa's sleigh. See what I
did there at that pun sleigh as in slaying if
you think about it, though, Santa is a frightening figure.
He's looming, he has the blood red suit. You a
bomber beard, booming voice, mysterious bag. What do you think
(45:58):
kids at the mall always cry in his They have
a sense about these things. Anyway, sometimes a droplet of
evil is required to prevent future tsunamis of evil. I'd
say children would certainly learn a lesson from this tale,
wouldn't you agree? Please don't look at Santa differently though.
He's ninety nine point nine percent good, and he did
(46:19):
try to save those people initially. And as for the aftermath, well,
that was part of the pact. He's not to blame.
They had their chance. He gave them that chance. He
took no pleasure in eviscerating them. To wrap this up
in a Christmas styled bow. The holiday spirit is integral
to the human spirit. With a touch of it, miracles
(46:40):
can happen with none of it. Well, there's a very
real chance that Santa Claus might disembowel you, But don't
be fearful, be cheerful, because the odds are in your favor. Seriously,
if you can't catch the holiday spirit, you're probably a
future serial killer or unwashed agent of chaos, and a
gruesome end is predestined it. Most of you can control
(47:02):
your destiny, though, Just pay more attention to your actions
and try to stay on the nice list and you'll
be fine. I'd better go do angel things so I
don't get in trouble. But I hope the holiday spirit
finds you if it hasn't already, I'll leave you with
a poem and let me wish you all a merry Christmas.
Go merrily forth and spread joy and love, or death
(47:24):
clause will rip through Santa's bloody glove. Tis the season
to become at peace. Don't be the reason you become deceased.
Bask in and embrace the holiday spirit or shriek in
eternal flames. No one will hear it. Make the nice list,
so you don't live and fright. Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a good night. Thanks for listening. If
(48:01):
you like the show, please share it with someone you
know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters,
or unsolved mysteries like you do. The fictional horror story
Here comes Santa's clause was written by John Allen. We
Are Darkness as a production and trademark of Marler House Productions,
copyright we Are Darkness, And now that we're coming out
(48:22):
of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light
Galatians four, verses four and five. But when the set
time had fully come, God sent his son, born of
a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under
the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. And
a final thought from Ralph Marston. Make it a habit
(48:43):
to tell people thank you, To express your appreciation sincerely
and without the expectation of anything in return. Truly appreciate
those around you, and you'll soon find many others around you.
Truly appreciate life, and you'll find that you have more
of it. I'm Daryn Marler. Thanks for joining me in
(49:05):
the weird darkness.
Welcome Weirdos. I'm Daryn Marler, and this is Weird Darkness.
Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore,
the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and
unexplained coming up in this episode. It's an original short
(00:30):
holiday horror story from John Allen called here comes Santa's Clause.
Now bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights,
and come with me into the weird darkness. Hey, look
(00:56):
up the stars. Do you see them? That's me? Okay,
maybe not. I'm stealing that stick from It's a wonderful life,
you know how. The stars are angels that talk to
each other. I thought i'd give this story a traditional
holiday vibe. That's what people are used to this time
of year, right, the whole feel good story thing. Personally,
(01:19):
I love the Christmas season. I loved it as a
human and I love it as an angel. Other angels
kid that I love it too much. Ariial. The other
eleven months of the year are just as important. They
tell me they're right, and I do try to treat
each day with the same passion, no matter of the month.
Something mystical happens around this time every year. Though it's
(01:43):
in films and music and books, it's in the air,
the Holiday spirit, it's everywhere. It envelops us, it overwhelms us.
It's a blanket of love, and I truly believe that
if the Holiday spirit could be sustained year round, this
would be a harmonious paradise, a fortress of infinite peace,
(02:05):
impervious to the darkness. The Holiday Spirit creates miracles. It
gives second chances and redemption. It is pure, unsullied light
as an angel. Though I see all things, I'm no fool.
I realize that even a fortress has cracks, and darkness
(02:28):
can seep in through the tiniest opening. I'm trying to
say the Holiday spirit is magical and visceral, and I
could regale a thousand tales of humanity's finest moments when
enchanted by this hypnotic utopia. But that's been done to death.
It's boring and ineffective. These stories no longer have impact
(02:50):
because they're so common. The Lifetime Network made a cottage
industry of it. To fully comprehend the importance of the
Holiday Spirit, another writer needs to pen a different chapter. Frankly,
the Holiday Spirit is dwindled in recent years, and I
need to take a different approach to save it. The
(03:12):
thing is, if it bleeds, it leads, right, Sorry, if
that doesn't resonate, that's an old newspaper industry saying. And
I died when print media was still a thing. If
you're wondering, I was hopped up on new coke and
fell from a scaffolding thing at a Banana Rama concert
while applying aquinet and taking polaroids simultaneously, And it was
(03:33):
a whole embarrassing to do that. I don't want to
talk about. But anyway, let me see how can I
modernize this? Okay, so say you're in the comments section online.
Nice comments are the holiday spirit. But the nice comments
get a like or two, and the trolls get a
million down votes but a lot of attention. Well, how
(03:57):
does this relate to the wanderers of the holiday spirit.
No one will pay attention if I ramble about glittery
unicorns and sugar rainbows. They want serpents and ominous clouds. Well,
I won't disappoint. It's impossible to embrace the marvel of
holiday spirit without understanding in existence without it. Fear is
(04:19):
the only way I save it and possibly you so
grant me a one time allowance as clickbait. I'm going
to troll your inner zen so you never take the
holiday spirit for granted again. It might save your life.
It all happened one Christmas Eve in a universe not
(04:39):
far removed from ours, when Santa bargained that the world's
most vile souls could be saved by the spirit. Now,
imagine you're hearing that whimsy sitcom segue music they always
use when they vanish into a dream sequence. Go ahead,
there's the harp music, and we're fading into blurry pixels.
(05:01):
Here we go, three two one. None comprehended the celestial
chaos that brought them together on Christmas Eve, and they
never would. They simply materialized from their various circumstances and
(05:25):
formed a line at the Christmas party outside of the
strange estate infamous serial killers, both reanimated and alive. Each
appeared as they had in their prime, and each carried
carefully wrapped gifts from an unknown origin, most standing in
shocked silence. One or two of the societal scourges was
(05:46):
so criminally insane that the unfathomable phenomenon at the moment
didn't even raise a question. It was as routine as
the seasonal, ugly Christmas sweaters and Santa hats they were
wearing against their will. The palicial estate itself was nestled
in a blanket of powdery white snow that extended beyond
what the human eye could register. It was akin to
(06:07):
being inside of a snow globe, and the genius savage
Edmund Kemper ascertained that they just might be trapped inside
something preternatural, as the universe of the moment ran parallel
to any previously known. The elven butler at the door,
adorned in bells and pointy shoes and bright eccentric shades
of red and green, collected the invites as each entered.
(06:32):
Being Christmas Eve, He'd rather be spreading joy and wonderment,
but instead founding himself playing greeter. Last year's embarrassing overdose
on cranberry sauce and gumdrops had led to this predicament,
so he took his punishment like an elf. His only
solace was how wonderful his clothing danced against the moonlight.
(06:54):
Charles Manson fronted the line, sauntering into the abode while
muttering nonsensical things to himself, as his wild eyes leered
and his wispy locks and unkempt beard posted large fluffy snowflakes.
Following the minuscule cult leader was the infamous Eileen Warnos,
who shrieked at the grandeur of the estate given her
poverty stricken past. Then Milwaukee's finest Jeffrey Dahmer, who remained
(07:19):
as distant and silent as he had been when alive
the first time. Richard Ramirez, the Nightstalker himself came next,
his rancid breath causing the butler to recoil in horror.
Even with his satanic essence, the puffy Christmas tree sweater
softened the madman John Wayne Gaizey strolled through in full
(07:40):
clown regalia, his oversized shoes emblazoned with images of Garland
and his makeup a fiasco of Yule Tide cheer. The
rotand monster eclipsed to the elf butler in wardrobe outrageousness.
A formidable task. With a little coaxing, the dutiful Elf
was able to corral Edmund Kemper, whose beautiful disturb mine
(08:00):
caused him to wander the estate grounds trying to find
clues that would explain this sudden, bizarre scene that had
sprung him from a prison cell to whatever this place was.
As he watched the butler right on his sheet from
right to left, the grand peculiarity, the gruesome goon knew
he no longer lingered on the earthly realm. This place
(08:23):
held something strange, something he couldn't figure, some type of
weird darkness. Upon completion, the butler, the Zuzu grew impatient
and checked his list.
Speaker 2 (08:38):
Hummm one missing.
Speaker 1 (08:40):
Zuzu thought, well, Paul, take it up with the boss lady.
Speaker 2 (08:44):
I'd better get inside before they spiked the egg dog
or start stabbing each other with candy canes.
Speaker 1 (08:50):
As Zuzu closed the castle like doors behind him, the
harrowing thud was overshadowed by Johnny Mathis on the speakers
as the old crooner bellowed Winter Wonderland to a party
that was slowly becoming vibrant. The main room that held
the get together was a power company's dream, as strands
of beaming lights hugged every inch. Mistletoe tickled the tops
(09:12):
of many ahead, which was actually a hazard for edmun Kemper.
His surreal height brought the sharp, prickly strand's eye level,
his glasses acting as a shield. Even in the madness
of the situation, The gargantuan co ed killer used his
intellect to describe mistletoe to absolutely no one in his
matter of fact way, it is an obligate heemi parasitic
(09:34):
plant in the order Saintilales. I've always found the plant's
order SAINTI Lales and relation to Christmas to be obviously ironic,
given that Kemper's lesson trailed off unheard Christmas trees massaged
every corner into long festive sycamore table, held the aforementioned eggnog,
(09:55):
a bull of punch, and nearly a thousand sugar laden confectioneries.
The big guy had even allowed alcohol, something Zuzu thought insane,
but the wager would be that the holiday spirit can
change the worst of the worst from their natural environment,
and since drinking had been so natural to some of
the killers, the detail remained. Even the unpopular fruitkick held
(10:19):
an appetizing pull, and the pleasant aroma of something baking
in the kitchen intermingled with a lingering scent of pine
and pastries. Other traditions aided in the holiday spirit hanakadradals
and manoras and golden gelt interspersed with ramadon Hannah lanterns
and eyed countdown chalkboards, Christmas decor blended with quansa canaras
(10:42):
and zawadi and unity cups in a perfect cacophony. Zuzu
side such majesty surrounding such tragedy. Holiday spirit dictated redemption.
But that was for people. These were insidious demons. His
place was not for them. Still, the big guy wanted
(11:03):
what the big guy wanted. His own work ended, and
Zuzu sought the head Elf Capra and informed her of
the missing name from the lists, before passing the evening's
events on to the jolly ones. Sassy Lieutenant, we'll have
more of our story. Here comes Santa's Clause by John Allen,
(11:27):
When weird darkness returns. The party had begun with a
spark and morphed into an explosion in quick fashion. The
(11:51):
first phase of the experiment continued for a few hours,
and the insidious Cretans laughed and drank and ate like
royalty in their new existence. As if this was not
the most bizarre occurrence in the history of normal or
paranormal misbehavior. Became the theme of this squandered second chance
In a blink. Decoy elves served as stand ins to
(12:13):
give the party a buzz a regrettable choice. Capra watched
from the corner of the room with a keen eye
as the dreadful subjects wrecked the room, leaving a tornatic
disaster of wreaths and tinsel and stockings behind. Elves were
threatened and harassed. John Wayne Gacy placed one of Sanna's
helpers atop a towering cabinet and joked about an elf
(12:34):
on a shelf. The serial killers themselves were separated from
one another, as well as their creative makeshift weaponry. Aileen
Wernos's intentions with a gingerbread man were less than honorable idiots.
They haven't learned a thing, Capra thought, they won't and
they can't. I told the big guy, Missus Kringle and
(12:57):
I both did. They can't be saved unsalvage beasts. As
the Brendaly classic Rocking Around the Christmas Tree spun on
the record player, the disruption from the miscreants caused the
reindeer outside to stir, calmed only by Rudolph's mesmerizing red nose.
This was not going well. The holiday spirit was lost
(13:17):
on these people. Marry an ounce of kindness or humanity
had reared itself. Saved from hades or san Quentin. Gratitude
should have been paramount rather. Capra eventually compiled the following
list for the big guy.
Speaker 2 (13:32):
Subject Manson has attempted two coups and continues to attempt
to manipulate the elves into doing something rich. He has
also proclaimed himself as God twice. The subject warn Us
has consistently propositioned various elder elves upon acquiring whether they
have any scratch on them. Follow Up intensions can be
(13:53):
assumed based on past transgressions. Subject Dama has drunk at
a feverish pace and making strange glances toward isolated elves
since arrival. Again history dictates nefarious intentions. Subject to Gacy
has employed standard clown routines and has invited some of
the younger elves to hang out alone somewhere See above
(14:17):
about predictable intent. Subject Temper remains the most behaved, though
his elevated heart rate among the female elves is a
concern based again on his criminal background.
Speaker 1 (14:28):
His charm and normalcy need to be monitored.
Speaker 2 (14:32):
Subject Ramirez has constructed pentagrams from licorice rope and declaring
Christmas a pagan institution causing the removal and re education
of certain gullible elves based upon the sordid and violent
nature and history of all parties. It is my opinion
that this experiment has and will continue to fail. I
declare that Phase one, interacting with regular society amidst the
(14:55):
holiday spirit, is a failure.
Speaker 1 (15:00):
The hand carved wall clock read forty five minutes until midnight.
Outside the ever rising snow mountain. Coated against the window,
Capra watched the smoke plumes from the fireplace that kept
the cozy adjacent bungalow warm. The Kringles preferred their nook
to the opulence and decadence of the main estate. Jessica
Kringle's silhouette graced the glass panes of the horny bungalow,
(15:23):
and Capra knew that the real boss at the operation
was helping her lovable chairub husband prepare for the busiest
night of the year. She wondered how the big guy
would fare tonight since he went gluten free. Last year's
Keto experiment was a disaster. Phase two of the experiment
was drawing upon her, and the head Elf could no
(15:43):
longer put it off. It was time to interact with
the despicable ones. As they interacted with each other an affair,
Capra greatly bemoaned because the outcome was text book predictability.
The sooner it was over, though, the sooner she could
celebrate Christmas. She had just did her candy striped leggings
and got on with it. Capra summoned the six murderers
(16:06):
to a round table lathered in point setya and ornaments
and cookies and all that sparkles, then used her elven
power to lower the stereo volume, muting Earth a kit.
Before she could sing for Santa to hurry down her chimney.
Capra appeared in the middle of the table, sitting cross
legged and floating in a slow rotation to address the
six filled chairs with a lone vacant chair pushed off
(16:28):
to the side.
Speaker 2 (16:30):
Merry Christmas, bad seeds, welcome to the north Pole, Welcome
to your party, Please sit.
Speaker 1 (16:37):
A murmur trickled amongst the guests. As they sat, Capra
composed herself. Life to her was love and good tidings
and the murdering filth that surrounded her was an affront
to every belief she held. Still, she promised Kringle she
would contain her sharp tongue and moderate the debacle with fairness.
Excuse me, can you get back to work please? We
(16:59):
are busy tonight. Is I'm sure you're aware of, Capra
said towards Charles Manson a second glance, and she giggled
at her mistake. Apologies, mister Manson, your stature confused me
with the elf hat. I mistook you for a worker.
My apologies. Now everyone welcome. It's Christmas Eve, as you
can gather given the location and all you see. That said,
(17:22):
it doesn't matter anyway. I'll assume I'm.
Speaker 2 (17:24):
Inclined to believe religion is not something any of you
have accidentally stubbed your toe on. Well, anyway, the head
elf side, my name is Capra, and I'm your overseer
for the next event. Some of you have rotted in
hell fire and brimstone, others prison. If you're a tooth,
you've been rotting in mister Ramere's mouth.
Speaker 1 (17:44):
The night Stalker and is Foreboding Scowl tried to lunch
at Capra, but an unseen force whipped him back to
a seat. I'm sorry, mister Ramerez. It was right there
and I couldn't not say it. I promise no more
jabs of you. I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself.
I should say this though, to everyone.
Speaker 2 (18:03):
No attacking me or anyone else. Keep your hands inside
the ride at all times. Your evil inflamations are useless
here as you just saw. Consider this a field trip
only instead of a tour guide. To keep you on
the right track, you have invisible shock pillars. There are
forces that'll stop you before you even think it, so
(18:24):
behave got it moving on. My life is devoted to
Christmas in the holiday spirit, and you all have never
basked in its glory. You've never bathed in the waters
of altruism and goodwill. Quite the opposite, i'd say, But nonetheless,
the big Guy knows best. So here we are. It's
(18:46):
been a big failure so far, but I'm here to
try to instill this spirit inside of you people. That's
my task. It would seem I have a better chance
of not popping the bubble wrap when wrapping presents, but
here we are. Obviously you've been unable to reintegrate among others,
so that was a misfire. I figured as much and
(19:07):
had an idea. I'm going to try one sure fire
thing that always spreads joy.
Speaker 1 (19:14):
I won't spread joy a spreader all over the Los Angeles.
Richard Rameirez crackled as he looked to his peers for
a validation. Capra motioned her magical hand and invisible muffle
covered the night stalker's mouth.
Speaker 2 (19:27):
Not the great start, mister Rameirez. Anyone else wished to
speak up? Mister Gacy, missus Wernos, Capra asked, silence, great,
Now it's time for Secret Santa. In front of you
is a gift, and on that gift is a name.
Makes sense now, right, go ahead and slide it over
(19:47):
to that person.
Speaker 1 (19:48):
You all know each other, Capra sighed as she looked
at the time. Go on slowly. The Sinister six began
to do so. Charles Manson was the first to speak up,
same mama, just seeing this not my bag? Dig what
happens after this? Do we get to go back to
our lives? That's the only holiday miracle I need. I've
(20:10):
been exed out of your society since I was born.
I've been a political prisoner since day one. Because the
rules of an unwell world are not the rules of me.
I don't belong in hell anymore than I belong in heaven.
I'm just a man of peace in my mind's eye.
My thoughts like fires in your cities. What's the endgame here,
(20:32):
sist love, it's my exile over or all the piggy
is gonna continue to cast straight my free will. Everyone
stared once their eyes stopped rolling. Oh shut up already,
you insufferable, babbling lunatic. Eileen Wernos interrupted, You vomit words
that don't go together. And I ain't never understood how
you got damn kids to do your killing for you,
(20:54):
you coward. They're as crazy as you, which is noneier
than squirrel done. Capra cracked a smile and observed the
detestable fiends like a rubber necking driver if she wasn't
allowed to insult them. Listening to the ogres roast each other,
what's the next best thing? Hey, no, your please, woman,
Sanity is a small box. Insanity is everything. Listen here,
(21:17):
Mama Manson countered. Don't you go judging me, nlest you
want to be judged. I won't, though, because I exist
on a higher plane. I'm the invisible man, the ghost specter.
You can't see. I can't judge any of you, because
I have no malice against you, no ribbons for you.
But I think that it's high time that y'all start
(21:39):
looking at yourselves and judging the life that you live in.
Edmund Kemper chimed in with his measured, collected thoughts. Charlie,
even in death, you haven't changed, same guy with your
same gibberish. Back the pen in Vakerville. Just stop. The
sixties are over. No one hears onsd Your gimmick is
(22:01):
a joke in this era. Now you're a place woman,
You're a relic. Friend. Just stop already. Perhaps would be
prudent for all if we allowed our hostess the prospect
of executing her disquisition. I'm certain everyone shares a peaked
interest into our current situation. Capra began to speak, but
was again interrupted by Ramerez's raised hand. Capra released his
(22:24):
muffle with reluctance. Yeah, Chuck, you good stretched there, Richard
Grimerez sneered. Quit acting like a damn clown. Everyone he
hates those creepy things. I'm sorry, Gaysey, except for Pogo,
of course. I want to help us kitties loved Bogo, right, freak,
John Wayne, you oughta have that name revoked. The Duke
was a man. You target practice is too good for you.
(22:48):
John Wayne Gacy managed to growl, even though his face
was painted in a permanent smile, a comical juxtaposition. Don't
apologize to him, Richie, he can't do anything to you.
You're older than twelve. Buernos laughed. Even amongst killers, anyone
who hurt children was the lowest of all, and the
group began to pile on Gacy. The table then turned
(23:10):
on each other in spurts and began to argue in
one combustible cartoon bubble of expletives, except for Jeffrey Dahmer,
who was half asleep. Copper noticed this and waved her
hand once more, the mystical motion, rendering everyone mute.
Speaker 2 (23:24):
Mister Dahmer, you haven't said a word.
Speaker 1 (23:26):
Caper said, are you you?
Speaker 2 (23:28):
Look? Are you drunk?
Speaker 1 (23:31):
Dahmer peered through his thick glasses with red eyes and
shrugged in the affirmative. Okay, you know what this is
to be.
Speaker 2 (23:38):
A normal secret center exchange, So just I don't know,
shut up and open your gifts.
Speaker 1 (23:45):
Keper looked at the clock and shook her head in disgust.
Counting the minutes your dead Dama keeper knew she should
have kept them gagged. Richard Ramirez was not thrilled with
his gift. Dahmer rose from his glossy headspace just enough
to protest. I didn't buy you that. They don't have
gift shots in hell. I just appeared here like you did,
(24:05):
and this package was there. Relax, Ramirez, Ramerez, would not
you think it's funny a toothbrush. I'll rip your heart out, Dama?
How about that? This time, I'll rip your heart out
and salty it with peppers and onions and eat a soul.
Speaker 2 (24:20):
Capra side, mister Ramirez. Mister Dahmer is correct. I don't
know where the gifts came from, but he didn't choose yours.
Speaker 1 (24:27):
None of you did, Capra informed the hygiene challenged lunatic
while peaking at the Big Guy's bungalow. Outside. The front
door was a jar, which meant it was almost time.
Shall we move on whatever? Ramerez replied, pledge allegiance to
the devil, and people just become plean, rude. You know,
even psychopaths have emotions. No thank you or appreciation.
Speaker 2 (24:51):
Kaepra mentally noted minor slight with each gift was a
simple test for the subjects and the reactions sement my
first conclusion about their inability to change in fighting threats
of murder, no attempts at better mental empathy or gratitude,
which means no holiday spirit. These two fellowship among peers
(25:13):
under the holiday spirit is not looking great.
Speaker 1 (25:17):
Manson's turn came, and as he unwrapped his present from
Edmun Kemper, his pupils became a fiery sea of evil
that resembled a rorshack test. Kemper spoke before anyone else.
Could you literally just heard Capra, Charlie, I'm not the
one who chose this gift to bestow upon you. Don't
you render it quite dubious that I would purposefully give
you shoe lifts? This whole affair seems to me a
(25:39):
test of some sort. Capra thought again, no gratitude. No
gratitude equals a bad attitude. Kemper, perhaps he is on
to us, though maybe that one forty five IQ is
real time to shut him up.
Speaker 2 (25:56):
Let's move along, folks. Missus Wareouse, please open your again.
Speaker 1 (26:00):
Found mister Ramirez, she did and like the others, rage
overcame her peroxide. Oh go to hell? Whoever did this? Yeah?
I have roots this show, big freakin' deal man. It's
jabs like this man that made me what I was.
I said before, this world is nothing but evil, and
my evil just happened to come out because of the
circumstances of what I was doing. Keep laughing, whoever done this?
(26:23):
Keep laughing. The rest of the exchange was much the same,
no genuine moments of harmony and peace. Gapper tried not
to snicker at the intentional bullying nature of the presence,
though her gleeful grin could not be contained. The phantom
gifter dictated manson gifting a vegan cookbook to Dahmer. Warnos
gave Gaysey a book titled Clowns for those not good
(26:46):
enough to be a Mine. Gaysey himself bestowed upon the
brilliant ed Kemper the entire Doctor Seuss collection, with a
note stating that these would replace his current library of
academic literature. At the end of it all, no one
showed progress. Not a whiff of Christmas virus attacked their
malevolent immune systems. Even the prank test gifts should have
(27:07):
been a welcome reprieve from the existence they came from.
Yet they weren't sprung from prison. Hell. It did not matter.
The North Pole Haven light destroyed and the Secret Santa
Exchange a bust. The violent subjects were given a plethora
of opportunities, but as the night whimpered and midnight loomed,
Capra had no choice. Phase two was a massive failure.
(27:31):
On the list their names went, with little surprise to her.
At the top of the list was the word naughty.
We'll have more of our story. Here comes Santa's Clause
by John Allen. When weird darkness returns, Capra hummed the
(28:10):
gene Auchry standard without words. As she sang it, she
would have crooned, here come Santa Claus. Here comes Santa Claus.
Right down, Santa Claus Lean. There was a reason for this.
The big guy always had a plan. The commotion rumbled
from the chimney, causing Murderer's Road to stop throwing things
at one another and freeze in silence as they remained
forcefully seated at the table. Oh, the hardy catchphrase bellowed
(28:35):
from the chimney into the room with gusto. Before a
word could be uttered, jolly old Satan. Nick Chris Kringle
himself burst into existence. Capra smiled at the sight of
the big guy. The killers expressed shock, disbelief, and fear.
The clock struck midnight as he appeared off in the distance.
Elves cheered the arrival of Christmas morning. Ry Christmas Jewel,
(28:57):
Welcome to my humble abode built on hopes and dreams
and good will of humanity. How has your evening been
so far? I trust Capra has showered you with all
the holiday spirit. Each hateful killer had a thought in
the moment. Edmun Kemper was a genius, and genius's tenderblie
on mathematical logic, so he could not rationalize gods and
(29:19):
non scientific beings, let alone Santa. Thus he deduced himself
lost in a fever dream. John Wayne Gayzey was upset
that he no longer claimed the title of most outrageous,
morbidly obese man in the room. Eileen Warnas eyed the
bag tossed over Santa's shoulder and envisioned shooting the white
Beard and stealing his lute. Charles Manson's deranged mind went
(29:42):
into an internal, incomprehensible rant tying Chris Kringle to capitalism,
conspiracy theories, and the system, and other various loopy mansonesque fallbacks.
Richard Marrez lamented that his object of worship, Satan, spelled
Santa if the letters were slightly rearranged. Jeffrey Dahmer just
figured he was still feeling the effects of the eggnog
(30:04):
and seeing things. Capra hugged Santa like a child hugs
her father and handed over her notes. She then left
the room without word, as if something was about to
happen that she did not want to witness. Santa skimmed
the notes and was visibly disappointed with the list. He
even checked it twice. He decided right then that Phase
(30:24):
three would be tossed aside entirely, as the notes turned
in to kindle in the fireplace. You're no children, Santa
said to the adult murderers as he climbed and paced
the very tabletop where Capra had held court. I know
everything about who you once were. I also know everything
that happened to night on Christmas Eve. On the less,
needless to say, I'm quite disappointed. I pulled some favors
(30:48):
because I believe in rehabilitation and redemption, but mostly because
I believe that the holiday spirit can save everyone and
change the world. But it appears missus Kringle was correct, Hugain,
I'm just a hopeless optimist. I suppose where my manners,
we should always feast on Christmas Day, no matter what
(31:10):
you celebrate. Santa snapped his fingers and a plate of
beef and vegetables instantly appeared. To everyone, Eat up children,
Happy holidays. Now where was I, uh, mister Santa. Jeffrey
Dahmer slurred through a squint of sobriety. My plate is
all vegetables, Santa chuckled. Finally he wakes up. We'll get
(31:31):
to that in a few Jeffrey dive in everybody, and
so they did. As Santa went on about his disappointment,
the entire crew gobbled as if they'd never eaten before,
as if sudden, ravenous hunger was foisted upon them. The
feast was scrumptious, and to dicting, Santa's words were drowned
out by the food. Kringle noticed this. Yes, yes, eat up, children,
(31:55):
Santa said mid sentence as he took a break from
dressing them down. Seconds are available as well, Hey, Sanna,
Tommer chimed in with impatience. He yelled his plate of
vegetables for Sanda to see. Santa shushed him and everyone
else for that matter. Their ability to speak had ceased
with a simple motion. It was obvious where Caepra had
learned her tricks. The speech continued, the reason in most
(32:18):
of your cases that I brought you back to life.
Santa's words were background noise until the food disappeared. Then
the reviled predators, with nothing going in or out of
their mouths, finally had no choice but to listen. Their
ears joined in as the round mound of joyful sound
was winding down. So it is with great regret that
I must inform you all that even the holiday spirit
(32:41):
cannot save you. You are simply abhorrent, just disgusting beings.
You see, people exist in the world with terrible upbringings,
much like some of you had, but they don't become
what you did. Some of you didn't even have bad childhoods,
yet all of you chose. And that simply isn't festive, now,
(33:02):
is it. I didn't want it to come to this
because I truly believed the season would move you. What
part of my pact with the higher ups was that
if I couldn't convert you, well, I'd have to punish
you immediately. So that's where we find ourselves. Glances flickered
across the table. Though he couldn't speak, Charles Manson began
to laugh without control, his body rot with awkward bobbing.
(33:26):
Santa glared at the impishellion and alloud words. What's possibly
so humorous that you're interrupting me, mister Manson? Manson allowed
himself to laugh beyond the mark of obnoxiousness before speaking,
Who were fat man? I was just laughing at you, Jack?
He said something about punishing us. How are we getting
(33:46):
cool for Christmas? My life is a love cool. You
think some commercialized imperialist pig is gonna scare me? You
know a long time ago, being crazy man something. Nowadays
everybody's crazy, including you. Pata Christmas. We're not in Wonderland anymore, Alice.
(34:09):
You think you're witchy enough to play Janny justice? You
can't kill what? Santa snapped his fingers and Manson fell
quiet again. It was quite convenient the human mute button.
That man simply never shuts up. I'm sorry to be
so brash. Children. It's just that I've never heard so
many words spoken that amount to nothing. Mister Manson, I
(34:32):
don't believe actual witches are too appreciative of you using
that word witchy. In fact, I know you're not the
spokesperson they'd choose. I've heard Bathsheba say as much. Oh,
I guess that's a slippery secret. Yes, witches are real
as well. We all are, except the tooth fairy. That's
just a ridiculous notion. Now, everyone about mister Manson's questioning
(34:56):
of your punishment. Well, it's already begun. The big guy
continued to walk across the table, veering down at the
empty plates. You may have noticed a seat at the
table as empty as your plates, Santa continued. Well, it
belongs to one of your contemporaries. Oh he's here, all right,
Sad Sad denis Seriously, who gives themselves a nickname that pathetic?
(35:20):
Wanna be? Bet k Geeza. I don't want to be
complimentary if your collective atrocities, but he literally does not
deserve a seat at the table with you. No originality,
stealing everyone else's calling card. Well, the hack has been hacked,
So problem solved. Season's eatings, though did he taste like failure?
(35:41):
Aileen Renolds grunted as if to regurgitate, though hermetically closed
mouth wouldn't allow it. Gasey pointed at the plate in
muffled fear. The first time eating actually scared him. Kemper
allowed a slight smile at the cleverness of it all. Yes, children,
in this case for you all, BTK stands for biting
through kidney. Here's in fact, kidneysplean liver, all of it.
(36:07):
Mister Ramirez, you told mister Dahmer earlier that you wanted
to eat his heart. I hope this is close enough.
Oh and mister Dahmer, I know you enjoyed a sort
of meal, so of course I had to disallow you access.
That's why your plate was devoid of meaty substance. How
were your brucoly florets? Though the collective faces of the
(36:30):
monster squad became a mix of ashen, sullen silence and
on a brashed rage with a few punches of violent disgust,
Santa now held their attention. So now that we have
full bellies, children, I believe it's about that time I
can't waste any more precious moments on you. There are
a billion good little boys and girls out there, nestled
(36:52):
all snugging their beds, while visions of sugar plums dancing there. Well,
you know the rest. Why do you look so sad?
This is your dou Gasey's clown makeup began to cake
into his tears. Ramirez snarled like a chained, rabid dog.
Manson seemed unbothered. Sadness overcame Saint Nick's plump, pink cheeks
as he fell into deep thought. Oh, I'll tell you what, mongrels.
(37:17):
The spirit didn't grab you, and the season didn't change you.
But there is one last thing. No, I shouldn't. Well
it's Christmas, But Missus Kringle says, I'm too much of
a softy. Santa scratched his thick, cottony beard, leaving the
motley crew of sadists in suspense. No, okay, now I'm Santa.
(37:40):
This is what I do. I will tell you children what.
There is one last cog in this machine, and that's
the Christmas miracle. This is the final chance at salvation.
I mean it. If you tell the Missus the deal
is off, this is quite simple. Now raise your hand
if you believe yourself the brightest of the bunch up
(38:01):
with the hands of Edmund Kemper and Charles Manson. Everyone
else nodded towards Kemper with urgent, pleading eyes, begging Sanna
not to pick Manson. Santa allowed Kemper to have a
voice once again. How's your scientific brain rationalizing me? Now?
Mister Kemper still think this is a fever bream? Oh,
I can read your thoughts. Why wouldn't I? I already
(38:22):
see you when you're sleeping, I know when you're awake,
and so on. Kemper clearness wrote, I'm flexed and bewildered
and have gained newfound faith in law. Sir. Upon further reflection,
Einstein once said, if you want your children to be intelligent,
read them fairy tales. And I believe this is tantamount
to a white left hand motion for silence. We get it,
(38:45):
mister Kemper, You're intelligent. The only task I have for
you requires memory, not intellect. Your answer will decide whether
you all meet a grizzly death en route to eternal damnation,
or whether you are released back into the world where
you will hopefully become advocates for the holiday spirit. It's
a very simple question. Really, if you have any holiday
(39:07):
spirit at all, you'll remember certain festive details that helped
shape this evening's celebration. That's what a wonderful thing actually
is made of small building blocks of good that builds
something well wonderful. One memory of one building block of
good is all you need to remember. Are you ready,
mister Kemper. Kemper nodded great. Right before I arrived, my
(39:31):
beloved Capra was humming a little Christmas jingle. It's a
wildly popular and classic tune that you hear non stop
this time of year. A few bars give a normal
person the tingles. Memories past and future can hang on
a simple song, mister Kemper, for you and your fellow
murderers who have wrecked and destroyed lives and families and
hope in humanity. If you can tell me the name
(39:54):
of that song, you were free. That's it, as simple
as that, nothing more, nothing less. If the tiniest, most minute,
microscopic trace of holiday spirit exists within you, you'll remember
this song that makes so many people so very happy.
One percent of one percent of one percent of you
and your friends here might be human if you can
(40:15):
recall a lovely classic tune. So for the last time,
I ask, are you ready, mister Kemper. Kemper exhaled and
faced his peers get another entree into the realm of
irrational logic. Of all serial killers in the room, maybe
even in history, Kemper was the most self aware of
his evil transgressions. Such a wager, such a final opportunity
(40:38):
for salvation, seemed cosmically unfair when measured against his sins.
There had to be a catch. Kemper knew he should
burn forever for his sins. A lifetime of murder should
not be erased by a round of name that tune.
Kemper's memory of Capra was vivid and clear, and he
began to mimic her humming. The table listened within tense focus,
(41:01):
nodding along. Gasey was the first to match the humming
and slapped his hand on the table, signaling that Kemper
was on track. Whenos registered as well and nodded with fervor,
Manson and Ramirez seemed confused, no surprise to anyone. Dahmer
was just really hammered and couldn't care less. I've got
it Santa. Kemper finally stated, with confidence in his head.
(41:23):
He watched Gene Autry performed the song on TV long
ago as a child at his grandparents' house. The clarity
was as if he was in the front row. Santa
crouched down in front of Ed Kemper from his tabletop vantage,
mirroring Kemper's gaze. All right, mister Kemper, I gave you
a steel, stilted pogo stick for Christmas when you were nine.
It was the most important thing in your life at
(41:44):
the time. It seems not much has changed. Ironically, Will
I be giving you the most important thing in your
life again this Christmas? The chance to begin anew Kemper
hummed the jingle a final time to secure his answer,
and flashed a small smile. I do believe you will,
jolly one, because the answer is here comes Santa Claus.
(42:06):
The serial killer collective dared not move. Kemper did not
break his eye lock with Santa, and Santa displayed no emotion.
That cliche about cutting tension with a knife was apt.
Only with this group knives were a bad idea. Santa
slowly rose and turned away, standing for too long and
staring into the void without moving his portly body. He
(42:28):
eventually rotated his head to look down on Kemper. Well, children,
it appears you've got me. You did. You've got me
so sad that your answer is incorrect. Santa spun around
with supernatural speed and outstretched his arms through his white gloves.
Spiky wooden talons as thick as a sequoia and as
(42:48):
sharp as a syphe breached the fabric and grew into long,
menacing shears. In one swoop Edmund Kemper was beheaded by
the right hand of Santa. Gasped. The Jolly One's face
morphed into maniacal madness as he confronted them. Even without
a head, this guy is like a foot taller than
everyone else. The correct answer would be here comes Santa's
(43:13):
clause trick question. Perhaps, but since the holiday spirit didn't
move you, it's my job to move you into holiday spirits.
That's a fun way to say. You're all gonna become spirits, ghosts,
ghosts of Christmas. And I'm not talking about Dickens, Casey,
you Dollar general, Pennywise. I've lost a lot of clients
(43:37):
because of your sick perversion. I live to make children happy,
and that means this is going to be extra painful
for you. You took their souls, I take your lower intestine.
Santa lunged with both Claus and eviscerated the buffoonish stain
of humanity before facing the others once again. You didn't
really think I would reward children on the nauty list,
(43:59):
did you? On the thirteenth day of Christmas? I give
to you sweet bloody justice, scary Christmas sickles Outside the door,
Capra and Zuzu checked the harness on Blitzer and Dancer,
calling the animals and pretending not to hear the massacre inside.
Santa's jolly Ho ho ho with each kill did not
(44:19):
match the gory ambiance inside the Clash of realities, so
chilling that Frosty the Snowman pulled his hat to cover
his ears. Hiding in the shadows, crampis looked on in envy.
(44:43):
The conclusion to John Allen's Here Comes Santa's Clause is
up next on Weird Darkness. Hey, it's Ariel again. Pretend
(45:12):
that dreamy segue music just brought you back to me.
The blurriness is now three D again, and everything is normal.
Crazy story, right, I know angels are supposed to be
uplifting and all, but times have changed, and I told
you a new approach was needed to save the holiday spirit.
Am I wrong to say that if you kill people
with kindness, wouldn't you keep them alive with cruelty? It's
(45:36):
tough to imagine Santa is a killer. In fact, not
much is more cruel than Santa's sleigh. See what I
did there at that pun sleigh as in slaying if
you think about it, though, Santa is a frightening figure.
He's looming, he has the blood red suit. You a
bomber beard, booming voice, mysterious bag. What do you think
(45:58):
kids at the mall always cry in his They have
a sense about these things. Anyway, sometimes a droplet of
evil is required to prevent future tsunamis of evil. I'd
say children would certainly learn a lesson from this tale,
wouldn't you agree? Please don't look at Santa differently though.
He's ninety nine point nine percent good, and he did
(46:19):
try to save those people initially. And as for the aftermath, well,
that was part of the pact. He's not to blame.
They had their chance. He gave them that chance. He
took no pleasure in eviscerating them. To wrap this up
in a Christmas styled bow. The holiday spirit is integral
to the human spirit. With a touch of it, miracles
(46:40):
can happen with none of it. Well, there's a very
real chance that Santa Claus might disembowel you, But don't
be fearful, be cheerful, because the odds are in your favor. Seriously,
if you can't catch the holiday spirit, you're probably a
future serial killer or unwashed agent of chaos, and a
gruesome end is predestined it. Most of you can control
(47:02):
your destiny, though, Just pay more attention to your actions
and try to stay on the nice list and you'll
be fine. I'd better go do angel things so I
don't get in trouble. But I hope the holiday spirit
finds you if it hasn't already, I'll leave you with
a poem and let me wish you all a merry Christmas.
Go merrily forth and spread joy and love, or death
(47:24):
clause will rip through Santa's bloody glove. Tis the season
to become at peace. Don't be the reason you become deceased.
Bask in and embrace the holiday spirit or shriek in
eternal flames. No one will hear it. Make the nice list,
so you don't live and fright. Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a good night. Thanks for listening. If
(48:01):
you like the show, please share it with someone you
know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters,
or unsolved mysteries like you do. The fictional horror story
Here comes Santa's clause was written by John Allen. We
Are Darkness as a production and trademark of Marler House Productions,
copyright we Are Darkness, And now that we're coming out
(48:22):
of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light
Galatians four, verses four and five. But when the set
time had fully come, God sent his son, born of
a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under
the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. And
a final thought from Ralph Marston. Make it a habit
(48:43):
to tell people thank you, To express your appreciation sincerely
and without the expectation of anything in return. Truly appreciate
those around you, and you'll soon find many others around you.
Truly appreciate life, and you'll find that you have more
of it. I'm Daryn Marler. Thanks for joining me in
(49:05):
the weird darkness.
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