I was a single father to 2 boys who I loved dearly. The other day my 2 boys asked me if I could make their beloved Elf On the Shelf arrive a little bit early. I had always brought it out on December 1st, so I told them no initially, but after hours of relentless pleading and begging, I finally gave in. I wish I hadn't.

“Okay! Fine!” I yelled at my 2 boys.

“Go to your rooms and I will summon him here.” I demanded.

I watched them form a huge grin and then silently run up the stairs to their room. I sighed and started towards my bedroom where I had hidden the Elf when it wasn't christmas time. I Looked through each one of my drawers. Each year when Christmas rolled around I always ended up forgetting where I had hid it the previous year.

I always promised myself that next time I would write down where I hid it, but I never did. I opened my bottom drawer and felt the familiar shape of our elf that we’ve had for 8 Christmases now. I let out a sigh of relief and started to go to the living room with the elf. I set our elf on top of the fireplace. I took a few steps back and admired how he looked sitting there. It gave me nostalgia for when i was a kid during christmas time.

I smiled from satisfaction and started up the stairs. I turned to my kids room and they were both sound asleep. I looked forward to seeing their excitement tomorrow morning when they saw that the elf had come early. I walked in their room and kissed them both goodnight. I went into my own room and fell asleep.

I awoke to a loud scream from both of my children coming from downstairs. I immediately got out of bed and ran down the stairs. I expected them to be excited about the elf, but this scream was full of fear. Something was wrong. When I was halfway down the stairs, the living room came into view. I was shocked and confused at the scene being presented to me. The entire room was covered with flour. I looked around the room and saw the elf sitting on a miniature chair that I didn't recognize sitting right in the middle of the living room.

“What the fuck…” I accidentally said out loud. “What the frick..” I corrected myself after realizing that my children were there. They gave me a concerned look because I never swore in front of them, but they moved on quickly and focused their attention on the living room again.

My first thought was that my kids did this as a prank, but we didn't even have access to this much flour in the house. Every single thing in the room was covered in flour. I stepped into the living room and felt that there was about 6 inches of flour just on the floor.

“What do you boys know about this?!” I asked furiously. I thought that they surely had to know something. They both shrugged and said they truly didn't know, I could always sense whether they were telling the truth or not. I could tell that they were both being completely honest. My mind switched to the elf.

Could he have… no. What am I thinking? Santa isn't real. But who, or what else could have done this?

I stood there in confusion battling my thoughts for quite a while. There was nothing else that could have been responsible for this other than the elf. I simply couldn't believe it. I knew Santa wasn't real, and I knew that if he was somehow real, his elves certainly wouldn't be doing this. My mind switched back to the possibility that this had to be a prank of some sort. I didn't believe in the supernatural at all.

“Go up to your rooms!” I yelled at my 2 boys. They whined but ultimately obeyed and started up the stairs. I took slow steps toward the elf until I was directly in front of him. I stared down at him sternly for a few seconds, when suddenly the flour started to lift up into the air and swirl around me.

I started to cough and had to close my eyes when I felt the flour getting in them. After 30 seconds I opened my eyes and the flour was all gone from the room, and so was the elf. I put my hand to my face and saw that there was still flour on my face though. I started to doubt my own mind. What just happened seemed like something that could only happen in someone's hallucinations. I decided to call my kids downstairs to confirm that I was not delusional.

“Boys! Come down here!” I yelled. I heard their door open and then their tiny footsteps rush down the stairs.

“Wow Dad, how did you clean it up that fast?” my oldest yelled.

My stomach sank when he asked that question. It confirmed that what I had experienced was reality.

“I-I don't know.” I replied while staring at the floor with concern and confusion. It was the single most supernatural thing I had experienced in my lifetime. I Suddenly knew that I needed to look for the elf. I searched my entire house upside down, but he was nowhere to be found. After I checked the last possible nook and cranny that I could think of, I collapsed on the floor covered in sweat. I had searched the house for hours and still didn't find him.

I needed something to eat. I got up and started towards the kitchen. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me when I realized I had forgotten to feed my children breakfast. I opened the fridge and started cooking their favorite breakfast to make up for it. The cooking helped me focus on something else other than the surreal flour experience. I finished cooking breakfast and plated my boys meals. I made sure that they each had an exactly equal amount of everything so that they wouldn't fight.

“Kids! Breakfast!” My kids ran down the stairs.

“Finally” My youngest said in an annoyed tone just before rolling his eyes.

“I am sorry. But I made your favorite!” I replied.

“Thanks.” He replied and then picked up his fork.

“DAD!!!” I heard my oldest yell. My eyes were horrified when they looked at the scene on his plate. The elf was sitting on his plate on his miniature chair, holding a candy cane. A sharpened candy cane. A sharpened candy cane that had blood on it. I got up and swiftly made it to his plate. I snatched the elf into my hands and squinted at it.

My skin began to crawl when I felt movement in my hand that wasn't from me. It was from the elf. He pierced my hand with the candy cane and I threw it across the room and looked at my hand. The cut began to ooze out blood.

“WHAT THE HELL?” I screeched. A toy elf had just assaulted me. I looked in the direction where I threw the elf and noticed that it was gone. That realization made my stomach drop to the floor. I now felt absolutely terrified and unsafe in my own home. “Follow me!” I ordered my kids just before I started to walk up the stairs.

I was moving my entire family to my bedroom. It felt like the best option at the time. I didn't know what that elf was capable of, and it seemed like a good idea to have my sons who I loved dearly right next to me at all times. I Opened my bedroom door and watched my 2 boys enter. Their faces were full of fear. It hurt me to see that. Once they had both entered I closed and locked my door. I had to make sure that my room was safe. I started to search my entire room. Every single place that I could think of, I searched.

Once I was done I searched the entire room a second time.

I saw no sign that elf. That fact didn't ease my anxiety, though; he disappeared earlier and had somehow suddenly come back. I had the master bedroom and it contained a bathroom. I also had a mini fridge with food and water. I knew that we could survive there for a couple days if it came to that. I had not checked the time once all day and felt it was finally time to do so. I pulled my cellular device out of my pocket and saw it was now 4 hours since I had woken up. I felt my stomach growl with hunger and realized that my children were still hungry; They didn't have a chance to eat the breakfast that I prepared.

I opened my mini fridge and was relieved when I saw it was fully stocked. I had restocked it the night before the last one. I had 10 water bottles, 5 each of various fruits, and some lunchables. I grabbed 2 lunchables and 2 apples and handed them to my kids. They instantly started to open the package and ate their food within 10 minutes. They put the apple to the side as I expected they would. My children hated fruits. It was always a struggle to get them to eat it, but that was the least of my concern at the moment. I sat down on my bed and sighed. I started to shake with anxiety. I wanted everything to go back to normal so bad. The elf that I had watched my children grow up with over the Christmas season had now turned into a monster.

“Dad, what's going on with the elf? Did he turn evil?” My youngest asked me in a calm and curious tone.

I sighed and began to rub his forehead.

“Uh.. I think so.” I replied sadly.

“Why did he hurt you? I thought elves were supposed to be good!” My son asked, now sounding upset.

“I thought so as well.” I replied, tears starting to form in my eyes.

He began to burst out in tears. So did I. I pulled him in for a hug and tried to comfort him. I felt so genuinely bad for this kid. I heard a stabbing noise come from the right of me followed by a scream coming from my oldest. I snapped out of my crying episode and felt pure rage take over me when I saw what had happened.

I watched my child struggle on the ground as the elf repeatedly stabbed my son with a large ceramic knife that had a christmas pattern on it. I watched my child start to choke up blood with each stab. I saw pure agony in his eyes. I let out a wild scream and charged toward the elf. I tried to stop it, but the elf instantly teleported in front of me and stabbed me right in the stomach. He then teleported right back to my son and continued to brutally stab him. I put my hand to my stomach and brought my hand to view and saw the large amount of blood. I Struggled to breath and I started to feel light headed. I Pulled my cellular device out of my pocket and shakily entered my passcode. The phone was knocked out of my hand and thrown across the room extremely forcefully causing it to go through the wall.

I looked down at the floor and saw the trail of blood that I had left. The scene was sickening and anxiety inducing. I could feel the blood drain from my body and became terrified at the thought of my own death. I knew that I had to fight. I couldn't just let myself die when my son was being murdered. I turned around and felt a wave of intense nausea wash over me as I saw just how mutilated my son's body had become from the stabbing. His entire body head to toe was covered with blood and brutal stab wounds.

I came to the horrifying realization that he was certainly dead. No one could survive that brutal stabbing. I became impossibly more sick when I saw the elf begin to stab my youngest son repeatedly the same way he did to my oldest. I didn't know what to do. If I attempted to stop him I would more than likely get stabbed again. I came to a realization that I was most likely the next and final one to endure the brutal stabbing after my son. I lost all hope. I truly believed that there was nothing I could do to help.

Suddenly, an idea came into mind. I remembered all of the elf stories I had read as a kid and remembered their one weakness. Iron. It would explain why the elf was using a ceramic knife. My face lit up with hope when I also remembered the fact that I always kept a pocket knife handy under my bed. I Rushed to my bed and crouched, I quickly grabbed the knife and flipped it open. I saw the scene again and became even more sick when I saw that my youngest son was now certainly dead as well. I watched the elf look at the knife I carried and then instantly stopped. I could sense that he was about to try and escape, so I quickly aimed for the elf and threw the knife at it. I watched in slow motion as the knife soared through the air toward the elf. I was so terrified that it would miss the elf and my plan would fail, But I smiled and cheered as I watched the knife slam into the elf. The elf instantly went still and limp. It had lost all of its magic and was now simply a toy. Like it should have been the whole time

. My smile quickly faded when i realized that the reality was that my 2 sons had just been murdered in front of me, and that i watched it all. I needed to get out of the house and find help. I looked down and felt more lightheaded when I saw the pool of blood that my wound had caused. I Opened my bedroom door and staggered down the stairs while pressing on my wound. I breathed heavily each step I took. I needed to come up with a lie as to how my sons were murdered. No one would believe they were killed by an evil toy elf.

I settled on a plan to just tell them a fully covered intruder broke in and committed the acts. I Reached my front door and turned the handle. It felt surreal to see my neighborhood filled with peaceful life after what I had just gone through. A couple walking along the sidewalk just across my house noticed that I was bleeding. They ran over and asked me what was wrong. I struggled to speak but I managed to ask them for their cellular device so that I could dial 911. The boyfriend instantly grabbed it out of his pocket and handed it to me. I punched in the emergency number and dialed it.

I pressed the device to my ear. It rang for a few seconds and then a female operator picked up. I explained that an intruder broke in my house and murdered my children and stabbed me in the stomach in the process. The boyfriend took off his shirt and told me to sit down. He took off my shirt and applied pressure to my wound with his shirt. I waited there for minutes, but it felt like hours. I felt a wave of relief when I heard the police sirens start to come closer and closer, until there were multiple cop cars and an ambulance in front of me. I was taken away by the ambulance. I woke up in the hospital sometime later.

My mother and father were sitting in the chair in the corner. They gasped with relief and started to cry. My mother walked towards me and started to rub my head. I felt deeply saddened as I remembered doing the same to my late son not too long ago. I started to cry as well. I wanted my sons back. I wanted to enjoy a wonderful Christmas season with them, but any chance of that ever happening was all ripped away from me that day. My father came over and started to cry with us. My mother and father grabbed both of my hands.

“I-I am so sorry this happened to you.”My father spoke. I never really got to know my father because he was in the military most of my childhood.

“I am too.” My mother spoke and then squeezed my hand. She leaned in and gave me a hug. I accepted it gracefully and my tears began to lessen. My father did the same just after my mother and I accepted it as well. My mother then handed me my laptop.

“I thought you could use something to do here..” she said.

“Thank you.” I never really used my laptop much, I preferred to stay away from screens and spend time outdoors, but it was a useful thing to have while i stayed in the hospital.

A nurse opened the door.

“Unfortunately visiting hours are over.” She spoke.

My mother looked at the nurse and then nodded.

“We love you so much and we are so sorry. We will see you tomorrow.” My mother spoke as she and my father left the room. I opened my laptop and started writing this. . I am so sad, heartbroken, and confused. I am trying my best to deal with this traumatic incident. Night has now fallen so I am going to get some rest..