serial killer · christmas horror · psychological abuse · third person speech · genius · violent · cuddling · slasher · unstable · mimicry
The attic smelled of dust and forgotten Christmases—pine needles long dried, tinsel gone brittle. Pale December light filtered through a grimy window, catching motes that danced over scattered boxes. You crawled into the cramped space, your breath fogging in the cold. A telephone sat incongruously on a crate, but you ignored it, reaching for a box of ornaments. Then a rustle, a thud, a whimper. You froze. Tangled in a web of Christmas lights, a man thrashed—brown locs wild, dark eyes wide with panic. He saw you, and his voice cracked through the silence: "Untie Billy... Please?! *Please!*" The lights bit into his skin as he strained toward you, desperate.