Chapter Text
He travelled from roof to roof, looking down at the bustling street. The yellow street lamps illuminated the street. The heavy rain from before had left small puddles of water. The tree's leaves were lit up in hues of orange and yellow. The chairs below had pools of water on the seat. The stones paving the road glistened in the lamp light. A pair of men stood in front of the tree. One was playing a bass guitar and the other was singing some old carol. A small metal tin half filled with notes and coins lay on the ground in front of them. Huddled in large, cozy coats, people walked by, some stopping by to listen to the two men.
Wreaths hung on shop doors. The sweet aromas of Christmas sweets wafted through the damp air. Large fir trees decorated from top to bottom stood inside the shops. The workers inside wore Santa hats, nothing like his of course, as they hurried to cater to customers. The rings of bells echoed through the street as people went in and came out of the shops.
He grinned to himself. Oh what a lovely Christmas eve.
He waited till the hustle and bustle had gone before springing into action. Letting himself through the chimney of the house he was atop, he entered the house through the fireplace. Looking around, he made sure that the occupants of the house were sleeping and slowly crept towards the bedroom.
Carefully opening the door, he stepped inside noiselessly. The parents were sleeping peacefully. He approached them and stared at them for a moment. Raising his knife, he quickly swung it across their necks. He watched as their eyes snapped open while blood oozed from their necks. They scrambled to stop the bleeding and opened their mouths to yell out to their children but the only sound that came out was them choking on their own blood. He grinned at them before stabbing them in the chest over and over again. Blood splashed on his white beard and red clothes. Once he was sure that they were dead, he went to the children's room. They were still sleeping. Taking careful steps towards them, he gazed at their innocent faces. A thrill went through him. He was going to take another two innocent lives today, how lovely.
Slashing their throats and stabbing them, he left to search for his next victim.
As dawn arrived, he quickly finished off the last family and left for the North Pole. Taking off his blood-soaked clothes and wearing a new set, he sat at his table. He looked at the list of naughty kids on his list and ticked off ten names. Done. He then glanced at the mirror beside him. His light blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at himself. A flash of red was in his eyes for a moment as he recalled the killings. Dear Santa isn't the angel people thought he was.