The delicious smells of sugar cookies, hot chocolate, cider, and cinnamon wrapped around me like the softest blanket, letting me forget all about the earlier events. My shoulders eased as I hummed to the Christmas music playing softly in the background while I finished hanging candy canes on the tree. The idyllic, little wooden cottage was attached to a tree farm on the outskirts of New Britain, Connecticut. It was owned by a sexist old man who had his five adult sons running it.
“I didn’t expect so many tonight.” Gabe yanked down his fake beard, popping a joint in his mouth. The dozens of kids wanting to see Santa kept Gabe and me busy for the first four hours. “I need a smoke bad.” It was getting late, and fewer families were venturing over to the workshop, tucking their kids in for the night instead. The holiday season had officially kicked off with a bang.
Christmas spirit seemed higher in the last two years than normal, bringing in far more people to get trees and see Santa this early. Except for me, it seemed. I had lost most of my cheer.
“If you get caught…” I flicked my chin at him. “Shortest manager job in history.” I didn’t understand his constant need to get high. To be fuzzy all the time. I liked being clearheaded and present.
Gabe snorted, but turned, going out the back door to light up. A gust of cold air swept in as he stepped out, instantly pimpling my flesh. Not that I was wearing much. The owner was in his seventies and acted as though women were merely here to be pretty. He clearly had some slutty elf fantasy by the look of our outfits. All the elves he hired were girls, and he had us in exceptionally low-cut, short costumes with red-and-white stockings, green shoes with bells, and a green elf hat.
The number of fathers who brought their kids here multiple times was disturbing. Though Alice had only worked here for one season, dads still came in and asked about her. My sister was stunning—stop-in-the-street beautiful—with the right amount of curves, long, silky, straight, dark hair, dark eyes, and tall. If she and Matt ever had kids, they would be voted the most beautiful babies in the world. It wasn’t until Alice opened her mouth you met the real her. She was blunt, real, witty, and sarcastic. It made me love her more.
Most said we looked alike, but our personalities were total opposites. I was the pros-and-cons girl, while Alice leaped into something with her heart. I would write lists, and Alice would already be out doing it. Even if it failed and she fell on her face, she’d jump back up and try again. I was controlled, guarded, and cautious.
I never envied her until lately. Alice’s life was completely together, while I felt mine was crumbling at the seams. Everything I worked and planned for felt empty and wrong now that I had them. Scott and I worked all the time to be able to afford an apartment in Hartford and a car. We wanted to ensure we could pay the bills, have a cushion in our bank account for an emergency, and save for our future house. We were responsible and determined.
And now we did have an apartment in Hartford, a car, food, money to go out on the weekends, we were going to university…everything I said I wanted. So why did I feel I was living someone else’s life?
A tingling feeling skated down my neck, and I twisted my head around the room, picking up on the utter silence. The music in the cottage was set on repeat, and by the end of the season, you were ready to take a bat to it, but now nothing came from the speakers.
Setting down the box of decorations, I headed for the small employee area, my feet halting at the window. The brightly lit tree lot, usually blinding to look at, was in complete darkness. Like they had closed up and gone home, but I knew they never turned the lights fully off. A few of the brothers had trailers and stayed the season at the lot, next to the father’s house. The tree lot was always lit.
As I looked out, everything was black. Did the electricity go out? Fuse box? The lights were still on in the cottage, though.
Peculiar.
I opened the back door, peering out into the cold, dark night. “Gabe? Do you know—” I stopped, noticing he was not in his usual spot. “Gabe?”
A prickle of warning rushed over my shoulders and up my throat, singing with alarm.
“There’s a perfectly good explanation,” I muttered to myself, listing the reasons. Making lists always calmed me down. The fuse box was probably overloaded and went out over on the lot, and Gabe went over to help them.
It sounded like a good enough explanation, except the cottage still had electricity, and I knew from experience they were on the same lines. Also, Gabe would never willingly help out if he didn’t have to. He did as little as possible, and he wasn’t a big fan of the brothers.
The silence from the huge lot wrapped another layer of apprehension around my throat.
“Gabe?” I stepped out, my shoes jingling, the wind brushing up my neck and through my hair, a shiver rushing down my spine, though I didn’t feel cold. I was one of those who didn’t mind cold weather. I tended to run hot and loved going for a jog on icy mornings, the air snapping in my lungs, making me feel alive. “Hey, boss man, where did you go?”
Moving around the cottage, I peered around, noticing the parking lot was mostly empty. A fog had slithered in, drifting close to the ground in the woods right behind the lot. Spikes of fear shot through my body, and I darted toward the house to find help. The two youngest boys and the father were always here.
“Hello?” I called out, but not one voice or any movement came from the place. Alarm swarmed in my stomach like bees. The deep instinct to run tapped at my legs, but I shushed it. There’s a logical reason. My mom always said I was like the Nancy Drew character; I would not stop until the problem was solved.
“Come to me, Dinah.” A howl of wind sounding like a woman stopped me dead in my tracks. My entire body flushed with terror. My head snapped around, searching for the voice, my heart thumping in my chest.
It was just the wind and your imagination. You’re still spooked from earlier. I tried to reassure myself as I fought the growing desire to beeline it back to the cottage. Taking in a strong breath, rolling back my shoulders, I directed myself toward the house.
“Dinah.” A woman’s voice sent shivers up my spine, and I spun with a yelp. I frantically scanned the area, not finding anything.
Something moved in the forest, a dark silhouette, but I could feel its eyes on me. A peculiar sensation twitched my limbs, as if I needed to follow it. My feet stepped forward as though I were in a trance. What the hell are you doing, Dinah? Run! A voice clipped in the back of my head. Switching my logical brain back on, I turned to run.
“No!” The voice felt like strands of air wrapping around my ankles and wrists similar to spiderwebs, not letting me escape. “It’s time.”
There was no way; it wasn’t possible. But the more I struggled, the less I could move.
“Come to me, Dinah.” The voice claimed my name, my fight to escape falling away as if it had no choice but to follow the command.
A cry of terror ripped up my throat, my head spinning out all my logic, acting purely on instinct. Son of a nutcracker… I had to be dreaming. Wake up, Dinah!
I pinched my arm, willing myself to wake up, and a shot of pain raked up my nerves. The winter chill penetrated my skimpy outfit, and my eyes were wide open. This was no dream. Fright plunged deep into my bones, but I didn’t let myself contemplate anything when I felt my binds release. I bolted forward, scrambling to get away. I peered behind me, imagining the serial killer right there, and did not pay attention to what was in front of me.