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Novelo Rectangle

24/12/2005An unexpected gift from a secret Santa arrived...one that would horrify Nicolas until death. The moment Nicolas made it to his front door, he knew immediately something was amiss. His lock was broken and his windows were smashed. Large boot-prints in the snow led directly into his home, seeming to have busted through with no effort at all. His front door was open ajar, and he had no idea what to do. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialled 9-9-9, bringing the phone to his ear and pacing around in the snow. Soon enough, he heard a voice on the other line. "9-9-9, what's the location of your emergency?" "Yes, hello. My house has had a break in. It's 23 Norton Avenue," Nicolas explained, trying to push down his nerves. "Where are you now, sir?" "I'm outside. I just came back from work and my door is open. My lock is broken and my windows are smashed. I can see some footprints leading inside as well," Nicolas said as his gaze fell to the ground at the footprints in the snow. "Do you live alone?" "Yes," "Okay, I've sent a few officers to your location. They should be there soon to investigate. Do not attempt to enter the building until they arrive." Nicolas scanned the windows in the upper floor in an attempt to catch anyone moving around, but they were pitch black. He was unsure if the person responsible was even still there. As his eyes scanned the home however, the ajar door then began to inch open slightly. Nicolas stepped back suddenly. "Wait!" "Sir? Are you alright?" The front door continued to inch open with a slow creak until the inside of his darkened home was visible. There was no one on the other side, but he could see inside his home. It seemed undamaged and untouched. Everything appeared as he left it earlier that day...except for one thing. Sitting there on his dining room table, he could see the light shining down on it. Nicolas peered through the front door, ensuring not to enter too far, as his eyes fell to the lone object sat upon his dining room table. One thing that made his blood run cold and his throat clench, rendering him unable to respond to the 9-9-9 dispatcher. A single present. ----------------------------------- The officers stepped out of the home and approached Nicolas, who was pacing left and right and taking deep breaths as his cold breath escaped his mouth. "Mr. Taylor, we have scanned over your home. We found no one hiding or potential danger. We'll need you to confirm if anything was robbed, however," The officer explained as he wrote down a number on a scrap of paper and handed it to Nicolas, who reluctantly took it with his frost-bitten fingers. "What about the box? The one in my dining room?" Nicolas asked, wrapping his arms around himself. "Yes, we have our eyes set on that. Are you aware of the string of murders occurring related to this gift box?" The officer asked, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Of course I am, I don't live under a rock. Does this mean the psycho responsible is after me now?" Nicolas asked. "We believe so. We unfortunately cannot check the box today, as we need to get the forensics team out tomorrow. For now, do you have anywhere else you could possibly stay?" The officer questioned, writing down a few notes. "I...I can call my mum, but we haven't spoken in a few years since..." Nicolas trailed off, his mind wandering to the past of his mother before they fell upon the police officer once again. "I...I can call her and if not, I'll just book myself in a hotel." "That's all you can do, sir. If we are to be believed that you are the next target, you should leave as soon as possible. We'll have police patrol this area in case of any suspicious activity," The officer said as he and his partners retreated back to their cars, talking amongst one another and calling in on their radios. Nicolas sighed and stepped into his house. From the look of it, it didn't appear that anything was stolen. His cash and bank cards were still in the same place in his kitchen drawer and nothing else was broken aside from his windows and door...or at least that is how it appeared until Nicolas' eyes fell to a framed picture that was hung on his wall before. At that moment, it was shattered on the ground. He approached it and knelt down to it, gazing down at the broken frame and being careful of the smithereens of glass. The picture of his family back in December of 1982. He didn't remember much of it, of course, since he was barely even a year old at the time it was taken. He could see his entire family - his mum, his brother David, himself, and...his dad. Nicolas didn't remember much about his dad. He and his mum got divorced when he was only young. He could still remember his last memory of him however...when he was only 5 years old. It was Christmas Eve of '87, and he was spending it at his mum's with his brother. His dad was at the door, holding a neatly wrapped gift for both him and David. He handed it to them and knelt down on one knee, muttering to them so that their mum couldn't hear him from the other room. "No matter where I go, just know I will always find you lads. I'd be daft to let you boys go, now wouldn't I? Dave, look after your brother. Nick, don't cause too much trouble." At the time, Nicolas and David had no idea why he was speaking in such away, but it was the last they ever saw of him. He knew he and his mum were on bad terms and she prevented any discussion of him after he disappeared, but he never could have predicted he'd vanish off the face of the Earth for years on end. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, he was never seen or heard from since. His mum never spoke of him. David never spoke of him. So, Nicolas followed suit and forgot most of his childhood memories about his dad, and that's how it had been for 18 years. Nicolas shook his head and stood from the ground, looking in the dining room for a dustpan to clean up the broken glass. As he searched for it, his eyes fell to the gift still on the table. Something about it drew him in, but he had no idea what it could've been. Throughout the years of murders, it was never revealed what was inside the victims' boxes before their murders. Perhaps the police and victims never looked inside, or perhaps what was inside the gifts was so horrific the police could not reveal what it was to the public. Nicolas had no intention of just opening it up and looking inside like some curious child, but he couldn't find himself steering clear of it. Cautiously, Nicolas approached the dining room table and looked it over, ensuring he didn't touch it. It was wrapped with red wrapping paper and tied with a gold ribbon. It was medium sized, so it was likely there wasn't much to see inside anyway, at least he hoped. What caught his eye most, however, was the tag attached that read the same as all the other victims who had received this gift - "Sent with Love" with the addition of a crudely drawn smiley face. It seemed like something a relative or friend would give, all with friendly and festive intentions. Nicolas knew this was nothing but a condescending lie, however, and felt nothing but disgust for this box. Despite his resentment, something about it rang a bell of familiarity in him, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. His eyes then fell to the nearby telephone and he was reminded of what he came inside for. Hurrying over to it, he picked it up and dialled his mum's house phone. She had not been well lately, so he hoped she would at least pick up so he could explain what was going on. Ring. Ring. Ring. Nicolas held the telephone to his ear with anticipation, already growing tired of the countless tones of the phone that he was well used to hearing. Then again, it was the middle of the night, on Christmas Eve no less. He wouldn't be surprised if his mum was asleep by then. The phone continued to ring until it stopped with a flat tone, followed by his mum's answering machine. Nicolas sighed and hung up the phone back into its charger. "For Christ's sake," Nicolas muttered under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. His mum must have gone to bed already. He could have always called David, but he must have been with his family, so he didn't want to bother them with this. He would have to book a hotel for the time being until this whole thing blew over. Maybe he could explain himself to them tomorrow? Nicolas rushed upstairs to pack some stuff for the night, but as he entered his bedroom, he heard the second house phone ring from the top landing, just outside the room. Nicolas jogged over to it and picked it up, seeing his mum's number appear. He let out a breath of relief that she wasn't asleep yet. He answered it and brought the phone to his ear. "Thank God, mum. Listen, I need to-," Nicolas had begun to speak, but he heard another voice on the line that was not his mum's. "Nicolas! Nicolas, Jesus Christ!" It wasn't his mum. It was David, and he sounded frantic. "David? What the matter? Where's mum?" Nicolas asked. "She's dead! Jesus...fuck, she's dead!" David exclaimed, sounding on the verge of a breakdown. Nicolas was barely even able to process what he had just told him. His mind went completely blank. "...what...what did you...?" Nicolas muttered under his breath, piecing together his brother's words in his head slowly. "I-I don't know what sick bastard did this, but she's...someone came in here and...goddamn it, there's so much blood!" David cried, his voice coming out crackled on the other end. "Please, God, tell me you're okay. Where are you? At home?" "Y...Yes. I...I have the police just outside! I-I'll tell them what happened and they'll be there soon!" Nicolas stammered, his voice breaking under the weight of the situation. "What? Why the Hell are the police there?" "I-It's why I rang mum. It's that...you've heard about those killings, haven't you? The killing with-with the Christmas boxes? I-I had a break in with the same box left on my table. I rang the police and I have to leave before the killer comes back for me," Nicolas explained, his voice shook. "Wh...holy...goddamn it, Nicolas. Why the Hell is this...?" David muttered over the phone, almost being unintelligible. "...do...do you think this serial killer is the same one that killed mum?!" "I...maybe? But how would it know about her? They-they only saw a picture of her when they smashed the photo frame on my wall and I don't think there's any clue of her address in here!" Nicolas said, baffled by the idea. The other end went silent a moment and as Nicolas waited for David to speak to him, he heard something from just outside. BANG BANG BANG BANG Multiple gun-fires rang out and shouting from the officers could be heard. He turned his head to follow the gaze while keeping the phone to his ear, feeling his blood run cold. It couldn't be...had the killer actually returned? Were they right outside?! "D-David?!" Nicolas cried out, turning his attention back to the phone. He could barely hear anything on the other end other than his brother's heavy breathing and some shuffling around. After what felt like an eternity, he finally heard his brother's voice, sounding more shaken. "Nick. That gift...did it have anything written on it?" "What? But-" Nicolas tried to speak, but was cut off. "Tell me, for Christ's sake!" David screamed urgently. "I-It just had a tag that said "Sent with Love" with some shitty drawing of a smile. That's how it was for everyone else. Did you not know that?" Nicolas explained, hearing his brother's breathing only quicken on the other end. "Fuck...god damn it...Nick, get out of there! Get out of there right now! He's-!" ...it went blank. Right in the middle of David's sentence...all that could be heard was a dial tone. The phone was cut off. "David?! David?!" Nicolas called out, but the call was completely cut off. All of a sudden, the lights illuminating his house went out, leaving Nicolas in pitch blackness. Whatever happened, his power was out. "...what the hell?" In his panic to listen to his brother, Nicolas had completely forgotten about the police officers outside. He carefully placed the phone down and crept over to the window. Peering through the blinds outside, he was expecting to see the officers apprehending the criminal or even calling for backup, what with the commotion. All he saw, however...was crimson splattered over the white road. Every single officer at the scene, even with the countless firearms they had...laid dead. Their cold corpses were sprawled out, mutilated and massacred. He felt his knees give out and he collapsed under the window, lowering his head and clasping his hands over his mouth to prevent himself from throwing up. How could this have even happened? This couldn't be possible. So many things had happened, that he felt as if his heart was about to burst from his chest. One thought then appeared in his mind that made his blood chill as cold as the frost on his window. The psycho that committed this heinous act...the one who mutilated both his mother and the officers outside...where was he now? Just then, heavy footsteps trudged through his house that were slow and large, as if a golem of lead was lumbering through his home. Nicolas tried to mask his panicked breathing as he peered around the corner to look down the stairs. A tall figure came into view and, despite the darkness, Nicolas could make out the stranger appearing to adorn a Santa Claus costume. He could not make out his face, but he could make out the outline of the messy crimson-splattered axe he wielded tightly. As Nicolas stared at the man down the stairs, he suddenly spun his head toward the stairs and their eyes met for half a second before Nicolas quickly ducked around the corner. He prayed to all the Gods that exist that he didn't see him, but he knew it was to no avail when he heard the man trudge up the stairs after him. He silently crept away and up the final flight of stairs. He had to get to safety to call for help, especially with what happened to the other officers outside. Climbing the final flight of stairs up to the top floor, Nicolas shut himself in the bathroom and locked the door, listening intently for any movement on the other side. He leaned his back against the door to take a breath before pulling out his cell phone and dialling the emergency number once more. 9-9-....CRASH The blood-splattered axe broke through the bathroom door as if it were made of straw and a large gloved hand grabbed Nicolas' shirt. He screamed and fought as hard as he could against his grip, but ended up stumbling onto his back once the stranger kicked the door down entirely. In his fall, Nicolas had dropped his cell phone right by the stranger's feet as he entered the bathroom. His heavy black boots stepped inside and crushed the phone under his weight as he stood over Nicolas, still wielding the axe he used to mutilate his victims, as well as his door. Alongside the axe, the stranger appeared to be holding something else under his arm, but it was too shrouded in shadows to be visible. Nicolas scrambled back until he felt his back collide against the bathroom wall, looking up at the stranger dressed in the Santa costume in fear and helplessness. This stranger was blocking the door, wielding the weapon that he used to kill over 5 officers with firearms at their disposal. Now, this psycho had him cornered, about to do the same to him. He took one step closer. And another. And another. He said nothing. All could be heard from the axe-wielding Santa were his heavy breaths and grunts. Nicolas' body was paralysed with terror as all he could do was watch the stranger come closer to him. Tears pricked his eyes as his entire life flashed in his memory. He couldn't bear it any longer and clenched his eyes shut, tilting his head away in anticipation for what he knew would be his last moments alive, filled with agony. That was, until...nothing came. It took a few moments for Nicolas to realise that nothing was happening. When he finally noticed, he slowly opened his eyes and looked forward once more, witnessing the Santa kneeling down on one knee and holding something out to him - the gift. Nicolas switched his gaze from the man and the present, confused and still shaken up. He then noticed the man's face, something he hadn't had the chance to get a good look at. It may have been dark in the bathroom, but the moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the man's face slightly covered by his fake white beard. An overwhelming sense of familiarity overtook Nicolas as he gazed at the Santa's face, a wide twisted smile plastered on his face as he gazed down at him, seeming deranged and intense as he still held out the gift. He was still covered in the blood of his victims, the blood on his gloves smeared the gift wrap of the present, yet he still acted like the usual jolly Santa that hands out gifts to good children. That's when it hit him. The look in his eyes. The smile on his face. The message he scrawled on the tag. The reason he had massacred his mum, as well as the family picture. This psycho...is no stranger. And what he said to him before his world went dark...only served to prove him and his brother right. "Merry Christmas, Nick. You knew I'd find you eventually."

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"Sent With Love :)"

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"Sent With Love :)"

Elise_Gracie25

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"Sent With Love :)"

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