The Xmas Day Butcher

Chapter 1

Whisper’s Creek always had this haunted stillness to it, like the town was trying its best to stay alive, but it continued to decay and degrade, all the same. Like a hidden darkness was trying to drag it down to the depths of hell.

One day it'll end. One day.

My wife, Angela, bless her kind heart, was doing her best to save it. She worked with Mayor Hamonte and wanted to restore Whisper’s Creek to something respectable—a place that you’d actually want to live in.

The joyous month of December had finally commenced, so that meant that Christmas decorations hung from every lamp post and window throughout the town square and shopping centers. I took it all in as I traveled through the outdoor plaza; I had planned on doing some gift shopping for Christmas.

The decorations reminded me of how dark the town had become, because Christmas was the only time when I felt a sense of peace and light.

Throughout the year, it was like someone pressed pause on a place that should’ve been growing, improving, and getting better, but now, we all just quietly accepted our doomed fates.

I wanted to move far, far away and never return—never looking back on the dark, depraved town of Whisper’s Creek—but Angela wouldn’t have it.

She was one of those people who liked to save things, to take matters into her own hands—the type of wonderful woman who uplifted the poor and innocent souls of the world.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wanted to get the heck out of Whisper’s Creek. I told myself that as long as I was with her, I’d be okay. I’d live. So, I kept my hidden desires to myself.

What a goddamn mistake that turned out to be.

I tried to enjoy the tinsel, the red and green lights, and the holiday cheer as best I could.

Christmas hadn’t meant much to me since.

..well, I didn’t like to think about it.

Even in my 30s, revisiting those violent memories felt like I was stabbing myself in the heart with a jagged knife.

In truth, Christmas hadn’t meant much to me for a long time.

But Angela? She loved it. The joy, the decorating, the same songs that blared from all the retail shops in town. I did my best to play along for her. She deserved it. What happened to me so long ago was not her fault; I didn’t need to punish her for it.

I stepped into a corner shop just as the doorbell chimed softly, bringing some swirling snowflakes alongside with me.

“Hello, Merry Christmas!” an elderly man shouted. “Merry Christmas,” I replied back softly. It was a jolly period of time and I did my best to play the part.

The shop smelled like a mix of cinnamon and pumpkin-scented candles. Fake snowflakes hung from the ceiling, colorful Christmas ornaments lined the shelves, and mechanical Santas twerked around in the front section of the store—behind the display glass.

My eyes immediately spotted the glass case where the bracelets were displayed. The one I’d been thinking about for weeks was right there, sparkling in the yellow light.

It was a long silver chain, with five small golden rings clasped to it. Angela loved things with meaning, things that were thoughtful. Five years was how many years we’d been married. How time flew when you tied the knot to the sweetheart of your dreams.

I went over to check out the silver chain when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Is that the Lenny? What’s up, little man?”

I turned and saw Joseph Candela, standing near the back of the store. He was a big, burly man wrapped in a black fur coat, holding a twerking Santa. I noticed that his rosy cheeks were bright red because of the cold. It made him look like a young Santa Claus.

“Hello Joseph,” I said, glancing at him. “It’s nice to see you.”

He inspected the twerking Santa further, his large dark eyes lighting up as it danced. Joseph was always a strange fellow. I couldn’t tell if he was just trying to be funny or if he was hiding something.

“Can you believe this wonderful Christmas technology? I know I’m the target audience for sure,” he said, referring to the Santa toy, heartily laughing at it. “So, you buying something for Angela?” he asked as he set down the twerking Santa and walked towards me.

“Yes, I am.” I nodded, tapping on the glass where the jewelry was. “Something she really wanted. She’s not that hard to shop for. She gives me hints.”

Angela made everything easy for me, and I always appreciated that about her.

Joseph gave a low whistle. “That’s one hell of a gift, man. Not every guy exerts that much effort or dollar bills. But Angela…oh man, she deserves it. I know what you’re doing.” He winked at me.

I don’t understand why Joseph has to say things like that—like he wants to sleep with my wife. I don’t appreciate it.

I shrugged, indifferent to his weird tone. “You’re right, she does deserve it.”

There was an awkward pause before Joseph continued, “Angela’s a pretty lady. Those beautiful eyes and that long, soft hair. Such a hard worker too. You’re a lucky little shit.” He noticed my silence and lightly bumped my shoulder. “Just messing with you, man, I’m keeping you on your toes.”

I let out a dry chuckle. “What can I say? She’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me. In a lot of ways—she saved me.”

He got closer to me, deciding to examine a plush elf on a rack beside us. “I know that you’ll always appreciate her. Because I know that the day you don’t, she’ll probably leave and find something better. There’s always someone waiting for that to happen.”

I quietly looked at him as he blankly stared back at me. His expression was stone-like, and I wasn’t sure what he was trying to accomplish here. What message was he trying to convey to me? That he was going to steal her from me?

“I’ll always appreciate her, you don’t have to worry about that—my friend,” I replied icily, refusing to break eye contact with him.

Joseph’s stony face broke into a smile as he patted me on the back a bit too aggressively. “I’m just messing with ya! You know that, right? I’m just the jokester, man. We’re all good.”

I looked away from him, anger inflating my chest. “Right, I know that. You’re just full of jokes, aren’t you?”

“That I am. Around the holidays I get jollier too.”

I paused for a second, contemplating on whether or not I should say it, to save my dignity. “And full of yourself,” I ended up saying.

His eyes locked onto mine, his face turning sour. I waited for his smart-ass reply.

He smiled and laughed. “That’s a good one, Lenny!” He fist-bumped me and then walked to the front of the store. “Happy Holidays, man! Good luck with Angela and that gift!” he pushed open the door and left.

“Yeah, you too, Joseph,” I quietly said through gritted teeth.

I barely considered him a friend, but I tolerated him because there weren’t many people who lived in Whisper’s Creek to begin with.

He also worked with Angela in the mayor’s office.

He was a maintenance man. I was sure he stared at her any chance he got. It made my blood boil.

I watched him walk out of the shop from the window, his shoulders hunched against the sharp, cold winds.

Part of me wanted to brush off his strange commentary, and I told myself it was harmless.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling I had in the pit of my stomach.

What he said still didn’t sit right with me, no matter how hard I tried to set it aside.

It still lingered in my mind, dark possibilities echoing around my head.

I didn’t like the idea that he thought about her in ways he shouldn’t have. I was sure that he wanted her all to himself, the secret sicko.

I picked up the chain and paid for it, eager to be on my way. The winds seemed to be picking up, and I still had a bit of a long way to go before I’d be home. The town was beginning to look like a white blur, the snowfall thickening by the second.

I cut across the town square, the sound of the wind howling in my ears.

As I trudged through the rising snow, crunching through ice with each step, I couldn’t help but glance at the shop windows—glowy, blinking lights reflecting off the glass, all those colors that were synonymous with the Christmas holiday.

Something rose in my throat, a dry lump that made tears fall from my eyes. It was hard for me during this time of year. It reminded me of what had happened—something that’d haunt me for the rest of my life.

I shook my head, trying to forget about what had happened. I’d rather focus on the future and the happiness I could still one day attain.

Once I reached the outskirts of the town square, there wasn’t much for miles—just a bunch of snowy fields, trees, and the occasional farmhouse. Most of them were abandoned. I worked in one that wasn’t.

Eventually, I crossed paths with my employer.

There was George St. Nicklaus sitting on his front porch, outside his little farmhouse, his bulk blocking the door.

He was hard to miss, like a living, breathing Santa Claus clone—red-faced, round as a caramel apple, and always coincidentally wearing winter attire that included color palettes of red, green, and white.

His thick white beard always made me think of a worn-out Santa, minus the jolly part.

I called him “Grumpy Claus” behind his back, of course.

Although the man had a temper and had trust issues, he trusted me with a key to the farmhouse.

“Lenny!” he boomed, spotting me from across the street. “Did you get that ham I told you about?”

I forced a grateful smile. “Yeah, I got it, George.”

He grunted, his beady eyes nervously scanning across the snowy land. “Good. That’s the only thing that makes this damn season worth my time. You can never beat my Christmas ham. Clara used to love it and always devoured it. I make the best damn Christmas ham in this godforsaken town!”