Page 17 of Ho Ho Homicidal Mania
Never have I hated Christmas more.
My mind is racing. I can’t imagine him being a night security guard for a shop this small. He wouldn’t be able to hide his murder basement so easily. I remember what he said about his grandfather handing him the mantle of Christmas Killer, and while I can’t be sure, it seems plausible that he also inherited this place.
Talk about hiding in plain sight.
“Welcome to the Winter Emporium,” Nico says and strides in. “We have several themed sections, and oh!” He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the windows, deeper into the store that smells of cinnamon, orange, and pine. I clock a phone by the counter, which could be useful in the future.
We arrive at a large table hosting a miniature snow-covered wonderland. It has a little town, a train station, tiny shops, and a herd of reindeer in the forest.
Nico ducks under the table, and the whole scene lights up. “I made a lot of this with my grandpa,” he says with a smile, as if his hobby isn’t cutting people into pieces.
I clear my throat, trying to grasp at the remainders of my sanity as a miniature train emerges from within the artificial mountain with a whistle. “After New Year, does this place become the Love Emporium, and then the Spring Emporium?”
Nico looks bewildered. “Fuck no. Christmas all day every day, baby. This is an all-year-round Christmas shop. Don’t you just love it?”
I don’t want to completely gross him out with my attitude, but I also have my limits. “I kinda wish Christmas wasn’t a thing. All that fake cheer and the pressure to buy things…”
His eyes grow wider. “Oh no… You can’t be one ofthosepeople. Don’t you feel all warm and gooey inside in reindeer pajamas?”
I glance down my body. “It is warm, I’ll give it that. I don’t like how loud and garish everything is at Christmas. How does your shop survive selling only Christmas products all year?” I ask, gesturing at the interior.
Nico turns off the lights on the table, which also stops the train from moving, but he doesn’t seem angry with me for speaking my mind, so that has to count for something.
“It can get tough, but the town is known for impressive Christmas displays, so we get a lot of tourists in the winter, which helps get us through the summer. The shop’s been in my family for almost a century. It started out as a toy shop, and I don’t want to let the tradition die. I used to help out here when I was just a kid. We would lock the shop on Christmas day, pull the curtains shut, and have our dinner right there,” he points to a table set with festive plates and napkins.
When I imagine two serial killers, a master and his apprentice, carving the turkey here, among all this gaudily cozy finery, I get a sense of almost overwhelming distaste. God, how I hate Christmas. “I’m already tired of the festive season. Are you really trying to tell me you just eat Christmas ham and gravy all year and pretend it’s snowing outside in the summer?”
Nico wags his finger at me with a smile. “I’ll make a believer out of you yet. I’m all about the Christmas magic.”
And murder.
I won’t lie, I do have a morbid curiosity about what makes him tick, what made him this way. He is the Christmas Killer after all, and this is his origin story. Is he a born psychopath, or did he see his grandfather do some messed up shit, and that scarred him for life?
He leads me up wooden stairs decorated with garlands and baubles, and when he leans past me to dim the lights downstairs, I take a discreet sniff of his cologne. It’s spicy, deep, with a hint of something fruity. I wonder if I’m too horny for my own good, or just touch-starved, because deep down I toy with scenarios of what I’d do if he tried to kiss me under the mistletoe we pass beneath.
As we reach the upper level of the store, I’m confronted with a large assortment of clothing and accessories, as well as some less orthodox items, like pet toys or perfume. I’m somewhat overwhelmed by the selection as my host leads me to a table with men’s underwear, where every single item is Christmas-themed too.
What is this madhouse?
“Go on, pick up a few things,” Nico offers with a wide smile as I stare at a legless mannequin presenting a pair of tight red boxer briefs made of velveteen and featuring a fur trim.
“Is this your idea of sexy underwear for our date? Do you want me to dress up as an elf again?”
Nico smirks and though he avoids my eyes. “You did make a pretty picture as an elf, but I want you to feel comfortable. I know it was a costume, I’m not unreasonable. Maybe this?”
He shows me a green velvet jock strap withHo Ho Hoon the waist band. He’s ridiculous, but the idea of wearing something that leaves my whole ass on show still makes me blush.
“You just want easy access,” I say, chuckling, because if I don’t laugh, I might just go mad. “There’s a reason why we wrap gifts, you know.”
“I like a bit of mystery…” Nico steps much closer and alarm bells ring in my head. I need to put a lid on this.
“But, as I said, I don’t like garish colors,” I say, moving away from the themed underwear with two pairs of the simplest red and green briefs. “And my skin is very sensitive, so I only really wear natural fabrics. Do you have any?”
“Yes, over here. What made you dress up as an elf then if you’re not a fan of Christmas? Or artificial fabrics,” he asks, leading me away from the briefs, to a long rack of ugly sweaters, which surely are all made of polyester rather than wool.
I clear my throat, ignoring the garment featuring a tyrannosaurus dressed as Santa and handing out gifts to other dinos. I’ve already told him what happened, but he clearly wants to build some kind of connection, so I shrug and give him what he wants.
“It was a themed party. Everyone’s all crazy for Christmas, and I wanted to be noticed. It got me what I wanted, but instead of a kiss, I got abducted by a psycho. I thought you have to go to a club at least a few times before you get targeted by some maniac,” I mumble unhappily.
