Never Fear (47 page)

Chapter 3

“
There you are Nicholas,”
Candace said as he entered the kitchen. “Where in the world have
you been? The children were getting antsy so they’ve already left
for my parents, and I’m ready to go.”

Tins of cookies lined the counter, and
a gingerbread house covered in gumdrops sat in the middle of the
table.

Candace cocked her head. “Nicholas,
are you all right? You have a strange look on your
face.”

Teeth bared, Nicholas swept the tins
of cookies onto the floor and with his fist smashed the gingerbread
house. When he turned to his wife, satisfaction at the shock on her
face fueled him.

“
Nicholas, what’s the
matter with you?” Candace gasped as she backed away.

“
You stupid woman, you
never understood. Year after year you bring out all these repugnant
decorations insisting I help you put them up.” He shoved his face
within inches of hers. “You taunt me with memories I’m trying to
forget. Well, my dear, this is how I remember
Christmas.”

Nicholas grinned with satisfaction at
the sheer terror that filled Candace’s face as he reared back with
the axe held high. Her mouth open ready to scream, he sank the axe
in her neck.

Adrenalin pumped through him at the
sight of her blood as it splattered the walls, dripped down the
cabinets, and pooled onto the floor. He narrowed his eyes in anger
when he saw her head wasn’t quite severed, still attached by thin
tendons. As her lifeless body crumpled to the floor, Nicholas
brought the axe down one more time, until his wife’s head, her
mouth still open in a silent scream, slid, in her own blood, across
the kitchen floor.

Nicholas chortled with glee, as with
one swift kick, he lofted her head into the air, to land in a bowl
of poinsettias. “Now you can be your own decoration.”

With utter joy, Nicholas walked
through the house, destroying everything in his path that had to do
with Christmas. When he stepped onto his porch, twilight was
setting in. The sled carrying the tree for his in-laws sat waiting.
A smile spread across his face. Why not? Year after year he’s had
to put up with the people of this town and all their holiday
happiness. Well, no more. If they love the color red so much, he’d
give them what they wanted. He’d show them what a red Christmas was
really like. Eyes glowing with anticipation, Nicholas picked up the
rope handle to the sled.

Candace’s parents, Carol and Jack
Card, lived on the other side of a thick stand of evergreens. As
Nicholas maneuvered the sled through the trees, the swish of the
runners as it slid over the snow the only sound, a bird suddenly
flew past to land on a branch directly in front of him. The
snow-white dove’s eyes bored into Nicholas’s, rendering him
incapable of movement. An internal battle of wills roiled inside
him, until his lips parted in an ominous grin and the axe flew
through the air. Disappointment wiped the grin from Nicholas’s face
as the dove easily rose to a higher branch.

Muttering under his breath, Nicholas
proceeded on his way, but knew the dove followed closely
behind.

As he exited the trees, a horse-drawn
sleigh approached carrying a couple cuddled close together and
waving cheerfully as they drew near. “Hello. Merry Christmas to
you, good sir. We’re heading for the parade. Would you like a
ride?”

Nicholas’s grip tightened on his axe
as the sleigh came to a halt.

The man leaned forward. “Sir, is that
blood on you? Have you been injured? May we be of
assistance?”

Nicholas glanced down and saw his
wife’s blood covering his hands, coat and pants. His head began to
pound as cold sweat trickled down his back. He swallowed the saliva
that pooled in his mouth. He flexed his hand on the axe.

“
Thank you for the kind
offer,” he said with a smile. “I’m fine, but I can’t say the same
for you. I’m afraid you’re going to miss the parade.” With a mighty
swing, he buried the axe blade deep in the man’s chest, cutting
through his jacket and sweater. Blood spewing, his eyes bulging,
gasping for breath, the man’s hands twitched as he feebly tried to
remove the axe. Nicholas wrenched it free, leaving a gaping wound,
exposing cracked ribs and beneath them his pulsating heart, beating
its last. Sobbing, the woman, visibly shaking, her teeth
chattering, tried to scramble from the sleigh. Nicholas chuckled
low. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“
Please, please, don’t
hurt me,” she cried.

Nicholas’ nostrils flared as the smell
of fresh blood permeated the air. “Oh, I’m not going to hurt you,”
he said with a smirk. “I’m going to kill you.”

When she screamed, he split her skull
open. As her head lolled, with another swift strike he sent her
head flying. Blood soaked their jackets, ran down the side of the
sleigh and lay crimson upon the crisp snow. As the horses whinnied
and began to run, Nicholas tossed the severed head back into the
sleigh. When her head landed in her lap, Nicholas couldn’t help but
chuckle. “Good catch.”

Nicholas walked to where the snow
wasn’t streaked with blood and used it to scrub the gore from his
hands and face, thankful his jacket was black and would hide the
stains.

By the time he’d reached his in-laws,
it was full dark. Candles burned in the windows of the two-story
gabled house, while the outside was lit with thousands of tiny
colored lights. As he approached the porch, Carol opened the door.
She wore a red sweater with sparkles that read Merry Christmas, a
matching red skirt, and shiny white boots. “There you are,
Nicholas. I was becoming concerned. Jack has taken the children to
the parade, and I said I’d stay and wait for you.” She peered
around him. “Where’s Candace? Do you have the tree?”

At the sight of her, Nicholas clenched
his teeth. How he loathed this woman. Always cheerful. Acting as if
she was Mother Christmas herself. “Candace couldn’t make it, but I
have your tree.”

Carol knitted her brows. “That’s
strange. The children told me she was just waiting for you to
return, then she’d be here.”

“
She’s doing some last
minute decorating.” Nicholas hoped she couldn’t hear the tension in
his voice. He wanted to be done here and complete his night’s work.
“Now tell me where you want this tree. You don’t want to be late
for the parade, do you?”

Carol hesitated before opening the
door wide. “The stand is in the corner. If you could just place the
tree there, we’ll straighten it later.”

Nicholas, keeping the tree in front of
him to hide his coat, did as she asked. As he turned, he spotted
the boxes of decorations waiting to be placed on the tree. Suddenly
in his mind he was transported back in time, envisioning his
parents’ bloody bodies. The room came in and out of focus. He shook
his head trying to clear away the images.

“
Nicholas, are you all
right?” Carol asked.

Next to him lay a big red bow with a
silver bell, and he reached for it.

As Nicholas walked away from the
house, he couldn’t help but glance back. There, the big red bow
encircling her neck, Carol hung from a hook on the porch, swaying
slightly in the wind, her eyes bulging and her tongue protruding
from the corner of her mouth, the silver bell dinging with the
breeze.

Whistling a holiday tune, he
picked up his axe and headed for town.

When he neared the ice-skating pond,
he paused. Candace had told him that after the parade there was to
be a big skating party with roasted chestnuts and hot chocolate. An
idea formed in his mind, and he cautiously made his way onto the
smooth surface of the pond. He began to chop holes into the ice,
small enough not to be readily seen, but weakening it for an
unsuspecting skater.

Suddenly the dark water was suffused
with a golden glow. Nicholas looked up to see the angel from the
nativity, her body pulsating with light, which, as Nicholas
watched, became brighter and brighter. Once again her eyes seemed
to lock with his. She was nothing more than plastic and plaster, he
told himself as he slowly backed away, but a frisson of fear still
coiled in his stomach. With his concentration on the angel, he
didn’t notice the lone lost ice skate until his foot bumped against
it. Without a second thought, he reached down and picked it up.
Taking a few steps forward, and with all his strength, he hurled
the skate across the pond. Satisfaction spread through him as he
watched the serrated tip imbed itself in the angel’s chest. A loud
popping noise filled the night as the angel blew apart, a spear of
light knocking Nicholas down, its force hurling the axe from his
hand.

Shaken, Nicholas rose to his feet and
walked to where his axe lay, its blade impaled in the ice. Jerking
it free, Nicholas snarled an expletive under his breath, as he
continued into town.

As he rounded the corner and passed
Miss Cozy’s quilt shop, Miss Cozy herself was in her display window
arranging an intricately stitched quilt representing children
sledding down a hill. Spotting Nicholas, she franticly waved him
in.

Smiling to himself and
thinking,
This one is going to be
easy
, Nicholas opened the shop’s front
door.

“
Nicholas, thank goodness
I saw you,” Miss Cozy said excitedly. “I don’t know if you have
Candace’s present yet, but she was in the other day and fell in
love with my holly berry quilt. If you’d like to see it, I have it
right here on a rack.”

Nicholas nodded and followed her to
where the quilt was hanging. Pretending to admire Miss Cozy’s
design of deep green leaves covered with plump cranberries,
Nicholas spotted an object lying on the counter that he recognized.
As the thought took shape in his mind, he reached for the basting
gun.

“
Be careful,” Miss Cozy
exclaimed. “I have very sharp tacks in that.”

“
I was counting on that,”
Nicholas said as he shot the tiny barbed tacks into her eyes. She
screamed and tried to cover her face, but Nicholas emptied the gun
into her head, hands and arms.

Nicholas knocked her to the floor and
grabbed a pair of scissors. He stabbed them into her throat until
bloody bubbles foamed out and ran down her chin. As a low gurgling
noise came from her mouth, and her arms and feet twitched, Nicholas
quickly wrapped her in the quilt, expeditiously suffocating
her.

When he stood, he noticed a sign which
read, ‘Have a Holly Jolly Christmas’. Nicholas, using a staple gun,
attached it to the rolled-up quilt. Then, singing a Christmas tune,
he picked up his axe and headed for the door.

Out on the sidewalk he passed the
barber shop, its striped pole bright red and green. Sounds of the
parade preparation could be heard. He was almost finished making
his rounds. He had just crossed the street when police officer Yule
came into view.

“
Good evening, Nicholas,”
he said with a nod. “You had better hurry. They’re lining up for
the parade.”

What a perfect trophy you would make,
Nicholas thought as he contemplated the best way to exterminate
Officer Yule. A mental image of his head spiked on top of the town
Christmas tree made Nicholas smile. But before he could make a
move, Miss Plum stepped from her doorway and called Officer Yule’s
name. To Nicholas’s disappointment, he tipped his hat to Nicholas
and walked away.

Nicholas, smiling to himself, moved
away in the opposite direction. He was more cunning than the people
of this town. He placed the axe over his shoulder and headed toward
his next unsuspecting victim.

Chapter 4

There wasn’t a sound in the house as
Nicholas made his way down the stairs. How he loved the peace and
quiet. Those thoughts had no sooner entered his mind when a low
whistling sound interrupted the silence. The soft early sunlight
streamed through the window as Nicholas entered his living
room.

“
What in the world?”
Nicholas murmured in puzzlement as he saw the brightly lit
Christmas tree and the train as it toot-tooted its way around the
village. Frowning, Nicholas moved closer. The damned thing must
have come back on by itself.

It wasn’t until he knelt next to the
village that he noticed something was wrong. Confusion filled his
face as he took in the scene of devastation. The porcelain figures
lay broken, their tiny heads scattered throughout the village. A
hole had been punched in the ice rink, the skaters no longer to be
seen. The snow, once pristine white, was now covered with tiny
droplets of red.

“
What the hell?” Anger
shot through Nicholas. Who could have done such a thing? The carved
figures his family had made, where were they? He peered closer.
Tears filled his eyes as he reached for the miniature sleigh, its
passengers mutilated beyond repair. A low chuckle began to fill the
room. Nicholas glanced around, but saw no one. The chuckle got
louder. Nicholas looked back at the village in shocked disbelief.
The carved figure of himself cutting down a pine tree was looking
back at him, a slow malevolent grin spreading across its
face.

“
It’s been a while,
Nicholas, but here I am again.”

Frozen in horror, Nicholas watched as
the figure, axe in hand, began to grow taller and taller until he
stood towering over Nicholas.