It happened in 1981, in a small, rural village
in West Germany. Siegfried Geise, nine years old, ran across
the bitter snow, tears freezing to his cheeks. It was Christmas Day, and not long ago, he’d
been so happy. He was celebrating with his family - his mother,
his father, and his younger sister, the centers of his universe - when that monster had attacked
and destroyed everything he’d ever known. The white terror. The destroyer of Christmas cheer. The Yule Man, SCP-4666. Though of course, young Siegfried had no idea. In hindsight, Siegfried’s parents had been
noticing strange things in the lead up to Christmas Day. Unfamiliar bumps and knocks. Strange smells coming from the attic. The occasional tall dark silhouette on the
horizon outside their isolated old farmhouse. But in the hustle and bustle of the season,
nobody really paid the proper attention to all the signs of an incoming Weissnacht event. Every eerie feeling was just written off as
stress, or overactive imaginations. None of the Geise family knew about the true
danger they were facing until they woke up to see the Yule Man standing over them, sharpening
a rusty blade and staring at them with hungry, sadistic eyes. “Merry Christmas...” the creature rasped, and chuckled. Siegfried was lucky to escape alive, but of
course, he would never see his family again. He’d be picked up a day or so later, traumatized,
catatonic, and almost frozen to death. When he was finally able to speak again, he
spoke of a monster having killed his family. When the police investigated his home, and
found the remains, they deemed it the work of an all too human serial killer, and poor
Siegfried Geise was entered into the foster system. Years of work with psychiatric professionals
tried to convince young Siegfried that the monster he claimed to see - the unnaturally
tall, gnarled, bony freak with those shimmering black eyes - was merely a product of his trauma. But he knew the truth. He always knew. What he encountered that day, the thing that
took his family, was nothing less than a true monster. And at nine years old, Siegfried made a vow:
He would one day kill the monster, no matter what it took. When Siegfried was finally adopted and returned
to school, he did everything he could to apply himself academically. He had no interest in friends, or romantic
relationships, even as he grew into his teenage years. The only thing that drew his interest, in
addition to the perfection of his academic life, was his own private research into the
supernatural. He became an expert in all things occultic
and anomalous, sightings of ghosts, phantoms, aliens, monsters. He wanted to know it all, no, needed to know
it all. He would arm himself with knowledge, wanting
to know everything he could in advance of the confrontation that would be his final
destiny. He also began obsessively researching attacks
similar to the ones that killed his family, and found an eerie pattern seeming to unfold
all over the Northern hemisphere. During the twelve days of Christmas, entire
families would be found dead in their homes, mutilated horrifically, often with children
having gone completely missing. They happened far enough apart in terms of
time and space that no connection was drawn between the events - All just random attacks,
according to the police and media. Weren’t the connections obvious? He didn’t understand. It was almost like there was some kind of
sweeping coverup, obscuring the true culprit behind all these killings. The same beast that’d destroyed his life. As Siegfried - now known to most as Dr. Geise
- ascended through his time at university, he became one of Germany’s foremost scholars
on the occult, with several published papers and books that drew the fascination of fellow
experts and laymen alike - But most importantly of all, Siegfried’s work got the attention
of the SCP Foundation. They reached out to the ambitious rising star
of the paranormal world and offered him a researcher position. Dr. Geise was elated, and said he would happily
take the role if they answered one question for him: Did they know anything about a horrific
humanoid monster that attacked families across the Northern hemisphere around Christmastime? This was the moment when Dr. Siegfried Geise,
after decades of searching, finally came to know about SCP-4666. He had access to all of the SCP Foundation’s
information on the monster, putting him several steps closer to what had always been his ultimate
goal: Killing the godforsaken thing. But this would be easier said than done. After all, if the Yule Man were easy to track,
the Foundation would have captured and contained him long before now. His attacks could occur anywhere across the
Northern hemisphere, making catching him the world’s largest game of whack a mole. But this was a game that Dr. Geise had more
than enough patience to play. Over the following years, Dr. Geise worked
as hard as humanly possible - Not just at the case of SCP-4666, but at every piece of
work the Foundation had to offer him. Much like his ruined childhood, Geise made
no effort to interact, no effort to form social connections. He just worked and worked and worked with
singleminded passion, soon developing a reputation as one of the most hard-working and dependable
figures in the SCP Foundation’s European division. It was this kind of work ethic that soon saw
him promoted to Senior researcher, and then, a site director. He had more control over information, resources,
and manpower than ever before. It was almost time. He could sense it. Delegating other tasks to his subordinates,
Dr. Geise began to work on his masterpiece: An advanced algorithm connecting police, social
media, and surveillance databases across the Northern Hemisphere. You see, while Dr. Geise had never faltered
in his quest, neither had the Yule Man. Every year, more families disappeared, or
were horrifically murdered, and every death weighed on Geise. He saw them as a personal failing of his,
of his inability to fulfil his destiny. But the Yule Man was a creature of habit - and
it would be that very adherence to habit that Geise used to destroy it. Using the algorithm he created, they would
perfectly track and triangulate the home most likely to be the subject of a dreaded Weissnacht
event, with greater accuracy and precision than ever before. The year was 2022. Dr. Geise was convinced that this time, he
would be the one to claim victory, and vengeance. There was one thing he didn’t tell his Foundation
compatriots, though, as he put the pieces in place for the final showdown: He had no
intention of containing the Yule Man. This time, he would destroy it. Using his newfound influence as a well-respected
site director, he requested the transfer of a few high-profile anomalies, as well as the
services of a crack mobile task force death squad. It was finally time. The Yule Man watched the house from a distance. He’d been observing for days, watching the
nice, happy family within. What pleasure it would bring him to destroy
them, and take what’s left to his workshop for further fun. Tonight would be the night that he claimed
them. They were all blissfully unaware, and lived
in an isolated, rural area where nobody but him would hear all the wonderful screaming. The second the lights went out inside the
house, he would strike, and bring about some Christmas fear. When the last window went dark, the Yule Man
drew a long, rusty blade out of his bag of tricks, and approached the house. He crept in through one of the windows - locks
had never been a problem for him. This whole process had played out hundreds
of times, he barely even needed to think about it now. He crept in past the presents around the Christmas
tree, found the stairs, and began to climb. He’d find them in their beds, one by one,
and take his time. Savoring the pain, savoring the fear. He went into the youngest one’s bedroom
first, his lips pulled back into a manic grin. There was the little boy, tucked in under
his quilt, like a present waiting to be unwrapped. He grabbed the sheet with his long, gnarled
fingers, and pulled it back... Only to see a plastic dummy underneath, with
a stun grenade fixed to its chest. Before the Yule Man could even react, the
stun grenade exploded into his face, blinding him with the sudden white light and ringing
in his ancient ears. The next thing he heard was a rugged, military
voice yelling, “Squad Alpha, move in!” Seconds later, the upstairs landing was filled
with Mobile Task Force Operatives with assault rifles. They aimed and opened fire into the Yule Man,
peppering him with painful bullets. He wasn’t used to his victims fighting back
like this. Truthfully, it even caught him off guard. But sadly for those brave Task Force operatives,
it wouldn’t be enough to kill him. The Yule Man gripped his rusty knife and lunged
at Squad Alpha. Moments later, they were all dead, and the
furious Yule Man was trudging back down the stairs. There had been no satisfaction in this slaughter. How had they caught him like this? Perhaps he’d go eat some of his servants
in his workshop to make himself feel better... As he was walking back across the living room,
past the Christmas tree, past all the presents, the television flickered into life. Staring at him from the screen was the grinning
face of Dr. Siegfried Geise, now fifty years old. And the most insane part was that the Yule
Man somehow recognized him: The one who got away, 41 years prior. “Hello, old friend, you’re looking a little
glum,” Siegfried said on the screen. “I take it that you didn’t enjoy the surprise
party I just threw for you. Don’t worry, the night isn’t over yet. After all, you haven’t even opened your
presents.” With that, the presents under the tree - which
were actually packed with C4 plastic explosives - detonated, leveling the entire house with
the Yule Man still inside it. The explosion could be heard for miles, as
a great pillar of smoke rose up into the air. Several hundred meters away, Dr. Siegfried
Geise waited and watched, flanked by Foundation agents and more Mobile Task Force soldiers,
taking in the majesty of the explosion. Dr. Geise remained steely-eyed and watched
the blaze. Somehow, he knew that even that would not
be enough to end the monster permanently. He nodded to the lieutenant he’d brought
with him. “Squad Bravo, time to engage!” the man barked in response. The remaining agents and MTF Operatives, armed
with assault rifles and submachine guns, descended on the burning wreckage of the house. Moments later, a tall, dark figure - the Yule
Man, injured, but alive - crawled out of the blaze. Immediately, the team opened fire, giving
the monster everything they had. But once again, everything was not enough. The creature pulled out two long, rusty knives,
and leaped into the fray, making short work of the Foundation brass. Soon enough, it stood alone on bloodstained
snow. Until another bullet caught it in the head. Dr. Siegfried Geise was standing there, the
last one alive to face the Yule Man, leveling a revolver. The Yule Man scowled. Geise held his steely gaze. “We meet again, at long last,” Siegfried
said. “You killed my family. You’ve killed so many others. Tonight, it’s your turn, Yule Man. This is your Weissnacht.” Geise opened fire as the Yule Man charged
towards him, taking each shot in stride. Even as the Yule Man closed the distance,
Geise didn’t flinch. His resolve was steely. It made the Yule Man feel confused and furious
that he didn’t detect an ounce of fear in this man, even when he drove a knife into
the site director’s stomach. Siegfried dropped to his knees and collapsed
as the Yule Man ripped the knife back out. His gun clattered to the ground. It had been a mortal blow. And still, he seemed unfazed. “Why aren’t you afraid?” The Yule Man growled. Siegfried spat blood, and said, “You took
my family 41 years ago. Everything since then has just been killing
time until I got to see them again. Where you’re going, all you’ll ever see
are flames and torment.” The Yule Man, furious, stabbed Siegfried again
- this time, through the heart. The doctor was dying, his life’s work having
seemingly amounted to nothing. But with the last of his strength, he reached
into his coat and pulled out something - A little gift he’d requested from one Dr.
Alto Clef before putting his plan into action. Dr. Siegfried Geise lifted a photo of SCP-096
right in front of the Yule Man’s eyes. “Merry Christmas...” he said with his
last breath. The Yule Man was confused. A photograph? Was that it? Was that really this foolish little boy’s
trump card, after all this time? What a waste... Then, without a moment’s warning, SCP-096
barreled into the Yule Man, sending them both rolling across the snow. One of Siegfried’s preparations was to have
SCP-096’s containment cube temporarily relocated to only a mile away from the ambush site,
to avoid collateral damage. If everything else failed, then SCP-096 would
be their Hail Mary pass. Their finishing move. And it worked marvelously. As strong and evil as the Yule Man was, he’d
been weakened by the night’s battle, and the Shy Guy was an order of magnitude more
powerful than his sadistic foe. The Yule Man screamed in horror as SCP-096
set upon him with claws and teeth. After hundreds of years of inflicting it on
others, the Yule Man had died in terror. And Dr. Siegfried Geise had died with a smile
on his face. Want to own an SCP of your own? Go to scpswag.com for premium anomalous merchandise! Now go check out “SCP-4666 - The Yule Man”
and “SCP-096 Origin Theories” for more on today’s terrifying combatants!
