Handle with Scare: A Dead of Night Mystery, #1

By J.C. Hatch

As the holidays approach, Owen Hill wants to have a perfect family Christmas. Decorate the tree. Hang the stockings from the fireplace with care. And win the neighborhood Christmas light contest. All is going to plan until the in-laws make a surprised visit for the holidays with a special gift in hand--one that will put coal in everyone's stocking. With trouble brewing, it is up to Owen to make sure that his plans don't come unhinged. But will anyone believe him? And can the gift be returned? There's only one way to know for sure. He'll have to confront the little monster.

Readers of R.L. Stine's Goosebumps and Christopher Moore's The Stupidest Angel will love "Handle with Scare" for its chills and humor in this fun holiday story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shallow Grave Publishing
• Release date: May 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223780458

Book preview

Chapter 1

"T here are dolls. Dolls everywhere! Owen Hill yelled from deep in the basement. How am I supposed to find anything with all these dolls!"

Owen had searched for an hour for a particular box. It was stored in the basement last year. The box was one that had Fragile written on the top of it and had a Christmas ornament stamped on its exterior. Owen’s wife, Emily, had written a message that read, Handle with Care or You’ll Die. The message was a joke, but Emily wasn’t lying. She had filled the box with family Christmas ornaments. Each ornament had sentimental value. Some were family heirlooms. While others were ornaments created by their three kids throughout the years.

Owen moved a stack of blankets, revealing more dolls with blinking eyes. It’s a nightmare down here. The dolls are multiplying. They’re consuming the basement!

Emily was a collector. She collected fine china, Parisian rugs, and movie memorabilia. But most of all, she loved to collect baby dolls. Emily had been collecting them since she was a child.

But the overgrown population of baby dolls was getting on Owen’s nerve. They blocked every open space of the basement, making it impossible for the tall, spindly man to traverse. To avoid stepping on the dolls, Owen ducked under the exposed floor beams and knocked his Red Sox hat off his balding head.

With frustration in his voice, Owen yelled out, Emily—where are the Christmas decorations?

Owen knew his family was ignoring him again. They didn’t care if a stack of baby dolls fell down on top of him and buried him alive.

Emily—did you hear me? He yelled once more.

No response.

Owen turned back to the staircase, but paused as the lights above his head flickered and went out.

Hey—who turned out the lights? Owen stood in the darkness and groaned. Turn the lights back on!

Still no response.

Owen felt for the light switch on the wall. His hand brushed against something wet and sticky.

Ugh! He grunted, wiping his hand against his jean pants. I hate it down here. Why is it so creepy?

Owen knew there was a flashlight above the dryer. He moved one foot forward, bumping it against something heavy, and then another. But he then paused as he heard a noise.

Scratch! Scratch! Scratch!

Something moved on the floor in front of him.

Lucy and Dylan—is that you?

Silence.

Come on kids. This isn’t funny, Owen said, taking another step forward.

Owen paused and listened. He couldn’t see in the darkness. But he knew he wasn’t alone. Something was in the basement with him. It was breathing heavily.

This isn’t funny, Owen repeated. If you’re trying to scare me, it won’t work.

Scratch! Scratch! Scratch!

It was the same strange noise.

All I want is a perfect family Christmas. Is that too much to ask for? Owen asked himself. But this doesn’t help.

Something scurried on the floor in front of Owen. Owen could see the outline of something hovered against the wall. Something large.

Then Owen saw it. Two icy blue eyes, glowing in the darkness, staring at him. The man took a step back. And then another. But he didn’t see the box behind him.

Yeeeaaaooohhh! Owen howled as he fell backwards over the box, landing on the hard cement floor.

The creature with the glowing blue eyes—where is it? Owen asked himself, struggling to get to his feet.

The answer to Owen’s question came with a quick swoop.

Out of the darkness, it pounced on him. And with a shrill scream, dug its claws into Owen’s leg.

Chapter 2

"M ama! Mama! Please feed me—Mama!"

Owen grabbed the attacker at his ankle and held it above his head by the leg. Hilarious—you two. Get out here. Before I tell Santa Claus how naughty you have been. And turn on the lights!

Blinding light filled the basement. Owen held one of Emily’s baby dolls by the leg—one with glowing blue eyes.

Not your best work—kids. Come out of your hiding spots.

A 12-year-old boy rolled out from under the washbasin by the dryer. He was wearing black. He tucked his curly brown hair under a stocking-cap. I told you we should have used a fog machine. Fog would have made the basement scarier.

Fog machine? We should have built more suspense. You were too quick to attack with the baby doll. An older girl of fourteen descended the staircase. She was as tall as her father with pale light skin and freckles that speckled her rosy cheeks.

It was Dylan and Natalie. Owen’s older kids.

Why do you try to scare me with the dolls? It won’t work.

What are you saying—Dad? Dylan asked. Did you hear how loud you howled.

He’s right. You were screaming loud, Natalie said with a laugh. I bet the neighbors heard you.

Oh yeah. Well, if they think I was loud, then they’ll be impressed at how horrific you two sound once Mom gets a hold of you. You know how she gets when you play with her doll collection.

Owen glanced at the box he tripped over. There you are.

It was the ornaments box he’d been looking for. Nothing was broken. He grabbed it and scaled the staircase.

Owen paused, reached for the light switch, and then said, So you want to play in the dark? I’ll turn the lights off for you two knuckleheads.

As Owen closed the door behind him, he could hear Natalie and Owen yelling out to him in the darkness. A smile formed on Owen’s face as he walked into the family room.

What are you smiling at? Emily asked, sitting in the chair by the fireplace. She had a book in her lap and was sipping hot chocolate. Her brown hair was in a ponytail.

Do we need to keep those baby dolls? They’re so creepy, Owen said, dropping the box beside the lighted Christmas tree by the front window.

Don’t you touch a hair on any of their heads. You know I’ve been collecting them for years. They’re priceless antiques. Many are worth hundreds of dollars.

Lucy—Owen and Emily’s younger daughter—held her own baby doll in her arms. She was nursing it with a plastic bottle as she sat on the couch watching her favorite cartoon. I think they’re cute too.

Priceless? How much is the entire collection worth? Owen asked. Maybe we could sell them and buy ourselves a trip to Hawaii. It’s nice this time of year.

Before Emily could answer, the phone on the kitchen countertop rang.

Emily climbed out of her seat and walked towards the kitchen. Stay away from my dolls, do you hear me?

Okay, Owen said, reaching into the box of ornaments. I’ll leave them alone… for now.

Emily gave her husband a stern look and then picked up the phone. Hello—Emily Hill speaking.

Owen watched his wife as he hung the first few ornaments. He always liked how expressive she was when she talked on the phone. But something about this phone call concerned him. Emily’s smile disappeared and her mouth dropped open in stunned disbelief.

No. You don’t say, she said. How’s that possible? Oh. Okay. I’ll have Owen talk to you. He should know too.

Is everything okay? Owen asked, hooking a surfing Santa Claus ornament to the tree.

Emily held the phone out to Owen. Tears had formed and were now rolling down her cheek.

Emily—what’s wrong?

Chapter 3

Owen took the phone from Emily and held it up to his ear. His heart beat fast. Hello—Owen here.

The phone was silent at first. Then a strange winding sound played over the speaker, and Owen recognized the voice. Mama! Mama! Please feed me—Mama!

Owen’s face went from ashen to red in less time than you take to snap your finger. Natalie… Dylan… get up here… now!

Emily wiped away the fake tear from her eye and laughed. We got you!

Lucy stood up on the couch and looked over at her parents. What happened?

Oh nothing—dear, Owen said. "Your mom and