Page 12 of Ho Ho Homicidal Mania
I’m not a cryer, but my eyes sting from the nerves of it all. The world is a blur as I dash up the steps, and an unholy mix of images rattles in my head.
Nico sawing into a man’s neck. Nico on his knees about to press his handsome face against my cock. Nico in the creepy balaclava with cute round ears. Nico presenting me with the ugliest Christmas sweater I’ve ever seen.
A part of me expects a locked door, and for my plan to be easily thwarted. I knew I needed to trysomethingto free myself, but deep down, I didn’t believe I’d manage. But I find the door easy to open, and I’m faced with… coats. I’m at the back of a wardrobe, as if the cellar is his personal fucking Narnia.
The muscles of my throat are so tight I can barely breathe, but I won’t have another chance to flee, so I dash between a collection of old bicycles, boxes, and furniture. I hit the light switch I vaguely see in the dark.
Colors gleam ahead as strings of Christmas lights come to life on the ceiling and walls of the next room. They flash in different rhythms, giving life to a crowd of figures gathered all too close for my liking. There’s the popular image of the Christmas Killer, based on a witness testimony that was clearly inaccurate, as the figure has a pot belly and a white beard. Next to it stands Krampus, an ancient witch, a monster with a horse skull head, and even some zombie elves. I stumble when the red and green flickering tricks me into thinking one of the life-sized statues moved, reaching its bony hand for me.
Where am I even? The room is stacked floor to ceiling with rows of shelving units filled with boxes and Christmas decor. Everywhere I look it’s red, green, and gold.
A sob rises in my throat, but I manage to hold it in as I make my way through the winding maze of festive crap. He’s mad. He’s absolutely mad, and I don’t even want to know why he might need so many different types of nutcrackers in the form of painted soldiers. Their eyes follow me as the colorful glow reflects on their faces, constantly altering their expressions.
The warehouse is massive and seems to contain everything from fake Victorian street lamps to large rolls of gift wrap. There’s a door on its other end, so I dash down the lane left empty in the middle, only pausing when I remember that it’s December. There could be a snow storm outside, and I’m wearing stockings and shorts. One of the massive steel shelving units arranged in neat rows to my left is filled with clothes, so I grab the first coat I can find and unfold it, revealing itself as a red bath robe with a fur trim.
Good enough.
Somewhere behind me, feet stomp over a hard floor, and I freeze, only to dash across the warehouse, already putting on the robe. I’m not dying here, not at eighteen, before I even got to start living!
The exit is so close I can almost taste the fresh air awaiting me outside, but as I reach for the handle, something yanks me back, and I fall over, banging my knees against the floor as plush gingerbread men rain over me, followed by a cardboard box.
I try to get up, but my robe catches on the shelf, and when I pull, the unit tips forward. I scream when it falls, and I cover my head to protect it from more plushies, which are now like quicksand around me.
My only saving grace is that the top of the shelf had gotten stuck against the opposite wall, so it can’t crush me. I wade through the toys, shrugging the robe off to leave it behind. This might be what getting a heart attack feels like. I’m dizzy from stress, my heart is pounding like mad, and I know Nico—no, the Christmas Killer is somewhere behind me. Just because he was nice to me to get into my pants doesn’t make him any less of a monster.
He saws off people’s heads and takes their teeth, for fuck’s sake!
I’m about to get up when a hand wraps around my ankle and yanks me back with so much strength I shiver in terror.
“No, please!” I shriek and kick back with my free foot. The pulsating glow of the Christmas lights seeps through the shelves above me, transforming the trap I’ve found myself in into a hallway straight from a horror movie, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go down without a fight.
“You will wait down there as long as I say!” Nico grunts and drags me from under the shelf despite my kicking. He’s no longer the nice guy he tried to present himself as.
I grab the edge of the shelf to keep him from pulling me back, since it seems my weight is nothing for him. When one of my hands slips, I grab the plushies and start throwing them at him with helpless fury. “Let go! I just want to go home!”
But it’s all for nothing. With a forceful tug, he drags me over the floor until I’m under him, terrified and defenseless. I try to kick, to push my thumbs into his eyes, but he rolls me to my stomach as if I weigh nothing, which, I suppose, I do when compared to his muscular form.
It’s only then that I give up on the fight and sob, wondering whether he’ll grab my hair and slam my headagainst the floor until my skull cracks, or if he’ll rape me beforehand.
I hear a click, and metal cuffs pull my wrists together.
He picks me up, not even bothering to gag me, which tells me screaming would be useless.
He wants tokeepme, and I don’t know if an eternity in his Christmas lair isn’t worse than death.
Chapter 7
Blake
I fall onto thecot as Nico shoves me inside the cell uncuffed. Despite bruises I can already feel forming on my body, I’m still breathing. But for how long?
My breath hisses as I stand back up and throw myself at the iron doors that just locked behind me. “How can you do this to me? I did nothing wrong. I just wanted to have fun, and now you imprisoned me here, like I’m a circus animal!”
“If you’d have made yourself known before I took off the mask, we wouldn’t have this problem!” He rubs his head with a scowl.
Good. At least I hurt him. Too bad my self-defense classes turned out to be useless in the moment of absolute panic.
“Oh, sure, it’s allmyfault. It hasnothingto do with you liking me,” I rasp, tapping my chest to drive that pointhome. “You’re no hero. I bet you’re just lying to me about that other guy being hired to kill me, so that I’m too scared to leave!”
