Page 2 of Ho Ho Homicidal Mania
In the light coming in from above, his profile couldn’t have been sharper. He’s pale, with messy dark blond hair that barely reaches his chin. Some strands are of a lighter color. I don’t see that well from afar, but his eyes are bright. Either green or blue. Maybe gray?
Big nose. Golden stubble. Must be over six feet tall. Is that a tattoo on his neck? His face is flushed, and his smile widens as he assesses the dead body. I’d describe that grin as either cheerful or predatory. Or deranged. As though he’s just come back home through a snowstorm and is about to bite into a warm cookie.
Details, Blake. Details.
Just as I’m about to log his dark eyebrows into my memory, he leans down with that cheery grin and puts the saw to work on the dead man’s neck. Blood splashes his face, but he just… licks his lips.
The rusty teeth of the saw bite deeper into flesh, and the sudden faintness in my head dives straight into my stomach. I’m retching, and the freak looks my way, his gaze diving into my corner behind the cupboard. I no longer have anything to lose so I dash forward, grab the gun and point it at the stranger with acid still burning my throat.
“Stay back,” I demand, and when my hands shake, I pull them close to my chest, hoping that will make me appear much less intimidated than I am. The chain attached to my waist rattles, as if it has a mind of its own and wants to make it clear to him that my whole body is trembling.
I don’t want to die. My life was supposed to finally begin next week. I was supposed to inherit half a fortune, gain new freedoms, explore the world, and suck my first dick.
The man isn’t frightened, and that doesn’t bode well. His eyes (blue, definitely blue) pierce me, and he doesn’teven blink, like he’s not even human, but a sexy lizard man.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says and cocks his head as he steps closer. Blood drips from his chin.
I’m not a crier, but right now I want to wail. I’m only eighteen, with a whole life ahead of me. What did I do to deserve this?
“H-he spiked my drink. I don’t care what you do with him. I just want to go home,” I mumble as my head throbs, making rational thinking impossible. Maybe my older brother was right when he said I don’t have the personality to deal with stressful situations. Then again, who the hell could easily handle this kind of situation?
He takes another step closer, and I wonder if I ought to shoot yet, but I’ve never evenhelda gun before, and I’m less likely to miss from up close.
The man’s expression turns curious as he eyes me from head to toe, and I’m all too aware that the Christmas elf top I have on is split all the way to my belly button.
“You should have shown yourself while I still had the mask on,” he says with a sigh and runs his leather-clad hand through his hair. If the situation wasn’t so surreal and terrifying, this could be a perfume commercial and he’d fit right in, with those looks. “What do I do with you…?”
He’s holding something, and I’d recognize the thick vintage ribbon in my sleep, because I’ve read all the articles, books, and watched every documentary about the Christmas Killer. Hell, I even publish a special December podcast about him each year.
“Oh shit… shit,” rips out of my mouth before I can stop myself, but facing the bogeyman of New England while being chained to the wall is too much to handle. “Please, just let me go. I won’t even remember you. It’s science.”
His nostrils flare in a long inhale. He’s thinking. Maybe Idohave a chance. I wasn’t his target after all. If I get out of here and report him, I could probably go into witness protection.
It should be the last thing on my mind, but I’m excited that I could be the one to crack the case of the Christmas Killer.
“Calm down and put the gun away. We will sort this out. I did save you from him after all, did I not?” He points to the dead guy whose neck is partially severed now but doesn’t look back. All of his attention is on me.
He did save me, by accident. Still, he wants me to stroke his ego, so I nod and attempt to steady my voice. “Yes. I am so,sothankful. Please, can you just toss me the keys to those chains? I’ll show myself out,” I add but grip the gun more firmly when the muscular form moves closer. He’s still a few paces away, and I already feel crowded, a mouse hiding from the mountain lion.
He’s young, too young to be the Christmas Killer. Some historians believe he claimed his first victim in 1912, but the person I’m seeing can’t even be in his thirties. Is this man a copycat?
The monster makes a sad pout. “I can’t let you go, I’m afraid. But I see you appreciate the Christmas spirit.” He points to my costume, in which I wouldn’t have been caught dead in if I hadn’t been trying to get laid at a nightclub. “I’m sure we’ll get along just jolly.”
He moves so fast I yelp and step back, but pull the trigger anyway, only for it to… do nothing.
I freeze, and he pulls the pistol out of my hands with a soft sigh. “Next time pull the safety off first,” he says and demonstrates, as if I haven’t just tried to kill him. Despite the terror sinking deep into my body, all I can focus on is that there might be anext time, and that surely meanshe doesn’t plan to leave my head wrapped in the same ribbon as Sexy Santa’s.
I open my mouth, ready to face him again, but before I can make any noise, a sharp sting makes me glance to my arm, where a small needle is embedded in my flesh. My eyes meet the killer’s blue gaze, he smiles at me, and then everything blurs.
The last thing I hear is his soft murmur.
“Sleep in heavenly peace…”
Chapter 2
Nico
“Welcome in December, you know what time it is...”says my favorite true-crime podcaster, Cryptic Boy Wonder, and since I know exactly what’s coming, I finish the sentence with him.
