I’m not sure if anyone will see this, or if I’ll still be here when you read the words I’m typing up while my mind still attempts to come to terms with what has happened. My name is Mark, and what led to me typing up what I just recently experienced and sharing it with random strangers on Reddit all started earlier in the winter season with strings of holiday lights.

Lights, these are something that are synonymous with the winter holidays. Colorful blinking beautiful lights set up in an array of patterns and designs across neighborhoods. Some displays are minimalist, showcasing a subtle yet still present holiday spirit. Others are bordering on excessive, madness inducing displays of everything that can be possibly set up on a single lot and the house on it.

My neighborhood has always leaned more towards subtlety, none of us were ever going to appear in an article or story about stunning light displays. None of us lacked funds to buy more lights, it’s just that kind of place you know?

What we did have though was ice sculptures. It was a tradition that had started over a century before due to the remoteness of the town itself and abundance of local ice. Though for over eighty years the ice has been delivered so nobody loses a finger trying to carve ice blocks out of the lake.

It’s a decent sized town in a rural area called Mráz; and was originally settled by Slavic immigrants over a century ago.

Over time other neighborhoods of the town moved on to more modern conventions, like holiday lights. But the neighborhood my family and I called home, Holle, stuck to the traditional ice sculptures. Some lights were still seen, but until this year they were an accent to the sculptures not a feature.

Nobody ever questioned why we always made sure the glittering ice sculptures were the focus of a holiday display. Honestly I don’t think anyone knew the reason why anymore, it’s just how things were done.

This year was different. A new family had moved into the late Mr Henders’s house at the end of the block. They did not attend neighborhood meetings, and avoided the local events as well for the most part. Which was fine, after all the Holle newsletter arrives to every resident via post and email so surely they knew what they were missing.

Around the time each and every home began setting up the pedestals for the ice sculptures, that’s when I should have realized something was wrong with the new neighbors. Instead of a pedestal they strung up a gaudy display of shimmering, bright, multi colored lights.

Then when the ice blocks arrived, nobody thought much of where they came from just that they were delivered every year; the new neighbors block remained untouched. Well until they smashed it into pieces so they could set up multiple tacky plastic light up decorations in its place. This sent ripples of concern across the entirety of Holle, for you see no one had ever outright destroyed a block intended for an ice sculpture. Not once in the entire towns history.

As the 25th of December grew closer things got worse, the display on the new families lawn got bigger and brighter overshadowing the ice sculptures that decorated the rest of the neighborhood. The weather got colder, more frigid than was usual for this time of year. The sculptures seemed to glitter brighter in the moonlight as if to try to outshine the circus of holiday lights the newcomers had set up. Ice began to appear at random on sidewalks and windows, and frost was more difficult to scrape from car windshields than it should be.

One thing I perhaps should have given more attention happened the night before I had to leave for a week long business trip for work that would keep me away until Christmas Eve or possibly Christmas Day. I was packing my things, my wife and kids asleep in their beds. A sound from outside caught my attention, I glanced up and saw a figure moving outside the window and across my yard. My mind occupied with work matters I looked away, figuring it was simply a neighbor checking on the sidewalks to make sure they were ice free before morning.

The next day I kissed my wife Kelly and my kids goodbye, my last words to her before leaving were “I love you, I’ll be back before Christmas I promise.”

“I love you too honey, please stay safe it’s icy out on the roads.” Kelly’s dulcet tones were the last thing I heard before I raced out the door.

A severe snowstorm was coming so I had to make it to the airport early or I might miss my flight. Looking back on that moment, I wish I had taken them with me. Or at least talked them into going to visit relatives that lived outside Holle.

But I didn’t, and simply got in my car, carefully backed over a large ice patch in the driveway; and left. Time flew by, and though we kept in touch two days before I returned my wife sent me a text telling me I would be happily surprised when I got home.

She never sent another text.

My flight got back on Christmas Eve in the late evening, the blizzard conditions that had been inundating the area of Mráz since I’d left had momentarily abated allowing my flight to land. I drove home as fast as I could, heedless of warning signs all was not well.

As I got closer to my neighborhood sounds of life faded, replaced by a melody in the air. I thought someone was playing music loudly, as the crackling and thrumming tune was audible in my vehicle. No sounds of laugher or celebration could be heard, all was silent except for that unearthly chime in the wind.

My neighborhood finally came into sight, the lights of the moon showed glistening shimmering displays of lights. It seemed in my absence the new members of our community had converted everyone to the idea of holiday lights. Every square inch of the homes lining the street were seemingly light up in brilliant dazzling displays. Oddly the ice sculptures were missing from every pedestal on every yard I drove by.

Finally I reached my house, as I slid my car into the driveway I pressed the brakes expecting my vehicle to stop right away. Instead it kept moving, my tired spun as my car half slid to a halt and barely missed hitting the garage door. I hit something that shattered with a loud “thwa crack” sound and broke into shards that exploded onto the hood of my car.

My heart was pounding, my breathing heavy; I took a moment to calm down before exiting the car to survey the damage. Insurance would cover it but I needed to check to be sure I needed to make a call at all. After all it was Christmas Eve, the phone lines were likely shut down for the holidays, and I hate dealing with automated systems.

As my shoes touched what should have been a concrete driveway I slipped, barely catching myself on the drivers side door. Looking down I realized the entire driveway was covered in a thick layer of ice. A shiver ran down my spine, a nagging feeling that something was very wrong. After all this neighborhood had a team dedicated to removing ice from walkways, driveways, streets, and other paths of travel. This amount of ice should not be possible.

Glancing around as I shivered in the cold brisk night despite my warm coat, I noticed how otherworldly the lights glimmering on my own house seemed in the moonlight. It was almost as if layers luminescent leds had been strung across the entire home and yard then set a timer. It was impressive, for a minute I thought this was the surprise my wife had talked about on her text.

Closing the car door partway I carefully walked up the drive and towards my home. The closer I got, the more uneasy I felt; everything was covered in a unnatural sheen of shimmering color and twinkling lights. It was almost like something had covered my home like a clear blanket, but that was impossible.

Or so I thought for a moment longer, for when I reached the porch and lifted my foot to step up on the first stair I immediately slipped and fell onto the frozen ground. Pain rippled through my body, tears stung my eyes, I was laying on my side on the frozen earth facing under the porch as my vision blurred then slowly stabilized.

As my sight returned I immediately screamed in terror. There was something staring at me from under the porch, teeth bared and eyes reflecting the moonlight this creature was ready to strike. Quickly I backed away, pulling out my phone and fumbling before turning on the phone light hoping to scare it away.

As I aimed my cell light at the beast my fear turned to horror blended with sorrow. For as the beam from my phone light up the porch monster, it revealed not simply its identity but the truth behind how my family home had glimmered so brightly as if covered by holiday lights.

The beast under the porch was no fiend, the shimmering frozen substance covering it’s body had in the darkness fooled me into seeing it as a monster. Tears began to fall unbidden from my eyes as I realized the beast was our family dog Bo. Bo was not baring his teeth in rage of hunger, but based on his expression and terrified body posture with tail tucked under his legs he had been terrified of something and had tried to intimidate it into leaving him alone.

I reached out and touched his muzzle, and realized at that moment what this mysterious substance was. I looked into his eyes, dead and glazed under the clear one inch thick layer of ice. Every feature of his body had been replicated by the outer coat of frozen water. He was like an ice statue, frozen in the moment of his death.

Regretfully I removed my hand from his frozen shell. Tears still running down my face, freezing to my skin in the cold air; I got up and faced my house. I could now see what had happened, though I had no idea how it was possible. My entire home, no the entire property was covered in a layer of ice freezing everything under it like some macabre winter display. Through the window I could see my kids, lifeless and frozen in time. They had been eating cookies and unwrapping stocking stuffers, I held back a wail as the reality set in. My children were gone, our dog as well. Yet I noticed my wife was not inside, perhaps she had escaped whatever otherworldly attack had occurred in my absence.

I desperately began searching around the house, my phones light reflecting the icy landscape and all that was sealed beneath it. My search canvassed my entire yard, yet there was no sign of my wife. I even cast my beam of hope into the neighboring yards, only to see a similar horrific situation had unfolded there as well. It was as if a massive wave of ice had fallen over the entire neighborhood block. Frozen corpses of long time family friends stood still in the night air, yet no sign of my wife.

My feet made tinkling cracking sounds as I made my way back to my car. My eyes were so focused on the things my light lit up that I paid little attention to anything else.

As I rounded the garage and saw my vehicle something else caught my attention. A hand, one that was unmistakably feminine yet frozen with that sand thick icy layer lay on the ground by the garage door. The wrist a jagged mess where it had broken off, my heart raced as anxiety and horror overwhelmed me.

“No, please no, no no” I whispered under my breath as I moved as quickly as possible to the front of my car. My feet froze in place as my light revealed the scene before me. This time the wail of grief and terror could not be held back as I slipped and slid over to a round object on the ground. Kneeling down I picked it up, cradling it in my hands.

“I’m sorry honey, I’m so sorry; please let this be a nightmare please no no” my voice cracked as I held my frozen wife Kelly’s head in my arms. One of the only pieces of her left somewhat recognizable for the rest had shattered on impact. Her frozen shoes and ankles were visible under the front of my car, her torso was mostly shattered into tiny pieces and embedded on my hood. Only one of her arms was connected to a hand, her legs were nowhere to be seen.

My wife’s frozen corpse had been what I had hit when I slid into the driveway. Based on the expression frozen forever on her face, like Bo she had been trying to keep something at bay.

And as my wails filled the air another sound came from above me.
“Tinkle crrrk krak”

Still holding my wife’s head I glanced up, and instantly my world shattered further as I saw what should not be possible staring down at me. For perched on the roof of the garage like cat was none other than the ice sculpture I had hand carved that year. A angel winged version of my wife stared down at me, frozen fanged teeth I had not carved bared at me. Nails made of icicle shards like talons gripped the edge of the roof, I could tell it was preparing to strike; and in that moment I knew what was responsible for the icy graveyard my neighborhood had become. The reason I was holding my wife’s frozen head in my arms.

For billowing out from under the Ice Sculpture was a mist that instantly solidified into layers of frozen malice laden water. Where it’s talons touched the roof, ice was growing into icicle like structures that reached for the ground like roots seeking soil.

I am normally a brave person, but all bravado disappeared due to the overwhelming fear I felt in that moment. Instead I acted as only a coward could, and scrambled into my vehicle, slamming the door shut and throwing Kelly’s frozen head in the back seat. I fumbled with the keys before inserting the right one and turning it, the engine seemed like it might fail to start with a few false starts. Just as the beast dropped from the roof to land in front of my car, reaching forward for me with its face contorting with vicious glee; my vehicle decided to roar to life.

I quickly shifted into reverse and half spun half slid my way out of the driveway just as the Sculpture was about to touch the hood ornament of my car likely dooming me to the same fate as all others in Holle. As well as the fate my family had suffered.

I raced down the street, high beams on barely avoiding spinning out multiple times. Each house I passed had another icy statue standing on the roof, the yard, somewhere watching me race by. Some tried to reach for me, some pounced at my car, a few seemed to sneer as I passed. As I rounded the bend by the new neighbors home I saw a small squad of sculptures I had never seen before in a circle around the home.

Like a coward I kept driving, not stopping till was not just out of the neighborhood of Holle but the entire town. I’m writing this up from a motel a few towns over and over one hundred miles away from Mráz.

It’s the day after Christmas now and I have not seen any sign of those things following me. I should be holding my family in my arms as we enjoy Christmas dinner leftovers and our gifts. Basking in the love and joy we shared every year in the past. Instead all I have is my wife’s head in the motel freezer and some bottles of cheap beer and a motel sandwich of questionable nutrition. My children and Bo are back there, in that icy hell with those unnatural ice sculptures. Their bodies frozen forever, their life long gone from this earth.

Well I suppose that’s not the only thing I have, there is something else. Inside my vehicle was a copy of the Holle neighborhood newsletter. Perhaps the only proof that the neighborhood was once alive and warm. Inside the thick reams of paper, the holiday newsletter is more of a book honestly; was something that may be my only clue as to what actually happened.

It concerned the yearly Holle ice block delivery, a list of rules and guidelines for care and use, and a number and address in case anything went wrong.

Apparently I can only contact this company up until the 5th of January, when they will limit customer service to private contracts only until next year. Initially I wanted to call the number, but something made me hesitate. Instead I think I’m going to go over the list of rules, and decide whether to call or visit the address listed.

I just lost my family and most of my friends, my home, and our dog to creatures made of ice. Entities we carved the forms of, for reasons I don’t understand.

If those very beings that took everything I loved from me don’t track me down I’ll post an update within a week or two. If I don’t post again by the time a month has passed, well it’s best for all who are reading this to assume the worst.

If you have any advice or idea of what might be behind what happened, I’ll happily accept any help I can get. Now I need to take some time to mourn what I’ve lost, and decide what I’m going to do next.