The snow fell steadily over Cedar Hollow, a small town tucked away in the hills. Christmas lights adorned every house, glowing warmly against the cold. Eliza had moved there a few months ago, needing a fresh start after her engagement ended. Cedar Hollow was quaint, with friendly neighbours and peaceful streets. It was exactly what she needed.
This was her first Christmas alone. Her parents were in Florida, her sister was busy with her own family, and Eliza didn't mind the solitude. She decorated her small rental house with care—a modest tree, a string of lights in the living room, and stockings hung above the fireplace, even if no one would fill them.
On Christmas Eve, the town felt particularly quiet. She had no plans and didn't want to spend the evening glued to her phone. After dinner, she decided to take a walk. The air was crisp, and the snow under her boots crunched softly. The houses on her street twinkled with festive lights, but as she walked farther, the homes grew sparser, and the decorations fewer.
Soon, she found herself at the edge of Hollow Grove, the dense forest that bordered the town. She had heard stories about it—mostly from older residents who warned that the woods were easy to get lost in. Some even mentioned strange disappearances, but Eliza dismissed it as small-town superstition.
The trees stood tall and dark, their branches heavy with snow. She hesitated at the tree line, wondering if she should turn back. But the forest looked beautiful in the moonlight, and she thought a short walk wouldn't hurt.
The first few steps into the woods felt magical. The snow here wasn't as deep, and the trees shielded her from the wind. She followed what seemed to be a narrow path, though it was hard to tell under the snow. The deeper she went, the quieter it became. The hum of the town faded, leaving only the sound of her footsteps.
After walking for some time, Eliza realized the path had disappeared. She turned around, but the way back looked unfamiliar. The trees were dense, and she couldn't tell where she'd come from. A prickle of unease ran through her.
"Just keep going," she muttered to herself. "The woods can't be that big."
She picked a direction and started walking. But the further she went, the stranger the woods became. The trees didn't look natural anymore. Their branches twisted in odd directions, and the bark was dark and rough, almost like it had been burned.
Then she saw something that made her stop. One of the trees ahead was decorated. It wasn't a normal Christmas tree, though. The ornaments looked old, their colours faded and scratched. Strings of tinsel hung in tatters, and Christmas lights were tangled around the branches, their cords frayed.
Eliza frowned. Who would decorate a tree in the middle of the woods? She stepped closer, curious. The ornaments weren't made of glass. They were smooth, but when she touched one, it felt strangely warm, like skin. She jerked her hand back.
The snow beneath her suddenly felt colder, seeping through her boots. She glanced around, realizing that several other trees nearby were also decorated. Their ornaments dangled slightly, though there was no wind. The decorations looked worse the closer she got. Some ornaments were cracked, and the tinsel seemed to shimmer with a metallic sharpness.
She started to feel dizzy. Something about the decorations felt wrong, but she couldn't look away. She forced herself to step back and turn around.
The forest seemed darker now, the snow duller. She tried to retrace her steps, but every direction looked the same. The trees loomed closer together, their branches reaching toward her like claws.
That's when she heard it—a soft humming, almost like someone singing a Christmas carol. It was faint but clear, and it seemed to come from deeper in the woods. Relief washed over her. Someone else was here. Maybe they could help her find the way out.
She followed the sound, the humming growing louder with each step. It led her to a clearing.
In the centre stood a massive pine tree, much taller and fuller than the others. It was completely covered in decorations, from the highest branches to the base. Unlike the others, these ornaments were pristine—shiny and colourful, catching the faint light that filtered through the trees. Strings of lights glowed faintly, their colours shifting.
At the base of the tree were gifts, neatly wrapped in bright paper and ribbons. They looked fresh, untouched by the weather.
Eliza approached cautiously. The humming was coming from the tree itself, low and rhythmic, almost like breathing. She bent down to examine one of the presents. It had no tag, but her name was written on it in elegant handwriting.
Her stomach churned. She hadn't told anyone she was coming here.
She reached for the box, hesitating. Her fingers brushed the ribbon, and the humming stopped.
The silence was sudden and heavy. The air around her felt thick, pressing against her skin. She stood up, backing away from the tree.
Then the lights flickered.
The branches moved. Slowly at first, as if stretching. The tinsel shimmered, coiling like snakes. The ornaments turned, and Eliza's breath caught in her throat.
The ornaments weren't just reflective. They had faces. Human faces. Eyes wide, mouths open in frozen screams.
She stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet. The tree seemed to grow taller, its branches reaching for her. The lights pulsed, brighter and faster, casting shifting shadows across the snow.
She tried to run, but the snow felt heavy like it was pulling her down. She glanced back and saw the branches stretching unnaturally, their tips sharp like claws.
One of them caught her leg, wrapping around her ankle. She screamed, kicking at it, but the branch tightened, dragging her toward the tree. She clawed at the ground, her fingers scraping against the ice.
The ornaments were closer now, their faces clearer. She recognized some of them—people from the town who had gone missing over the years. Their eyes seemed to follow her, pleading silently.
The tree pulled her closer, its branches wrapping around her arms and torso. The tinsel cut into her skin, cold and sharp. She gasped, the air leaving her lungs as the branches lifted her off the ground.
The lights on the tree flickered wildly, their colours blinding. The last thing she saw was her reflection in a shiny red ornament. Her face was frozen in terror, just like the others.
When Christmas morning came, Cedar Hollow was quiet. Snow covered the streets, and the townsfolk went about their holiday routines.
In Hollow Grove, the tree in the clearing stood tall, its lights glowing faintly. A new ornament hung from its branches, bright and unblemished. If you looked closely, you could see the face of a young woman, her eyes wide with fear.
And deep within the woods, the humming began again.