Page 18 of Slay All The Way

A strangled sob escapes me, and I scramble to my feet, my slippers falling off as I run back into the cabin. I lock the door behind me. My mind racing, terror clawing at me. I don’t know what to do, where to go. Someone did that to him. But who? Why? Where are they now? I just need to get out. I need to get away from here. But as I fumble for the door, I hear it—the soft creak of the floorboards behind me.

I freeze.

My heart leaps into my throat, and slowly, I turn around.

A man stands in the shadows of the cabin, his eyes gleaming with an unholy light, flickering like the reflections of a flame. He wears a clown mask, painted in grotesque colors that distort his features, making him look both comical and sinister. The hood of his Santa costume is pulled up, casting a shaded darkness over his mask.

The costume itself is stained with dark, drying blood, an unsettling reminder of what he’s capable of. Of what he’s done.He’s tall—if I had to guess I’d say like 6’5—with a well-defined build that hints at strength and power. The top part of his Santa jacket hangs unbuttoned, fluttering slightly with his heavy breaths, revealing a toned chest that seems almost too perfect for someone dressed like a holiday horror. He stands there, watching me with a predatory gleam in his eyes, savoring my fear.

“Hello, snowflake,” he says, his voice soft and almost tender.

I back away, my mind screaming for me to run, but my body feels frozen in place. Fear courses through my veins, locking me in place.

“You—” My voice cracks. “You did this?”

He steps closer, his gaze piercing mine from behind his mask. “I did it for you,” he says, as if it’s the most natural fucking thing in the world. “Mark was never good enough for you. He didn’t deserve you.”

This man is a goddamn psychopath.I shake my head, backing up until I hit the wall behind me. “No… no… this isn’t happening…”

His eyes gleam beneath the mask, filled with a dark and sinister delight. “Oh, but it is, my little snowflake. You’re finally free. Don’t you see? I did this for us.”

The weight of his words sinks in, and I look down at the necklace around my neck—the crystal pendant glinting in the dim light. It suddenly dawns on me who he is. This man, this shadowy figure haunting my thoughts, has been watching me all along. He’s my stalker, the one I’ve felt lurking just beyond my reach.

The one I’ve beenentertaining.

Before I can react, he moves with inhuman speed, grabbing my wrist. I try to pull away, but his grip is like iron, unwavering. His eyes sparkle with a sick kind of excitement as he yanks me closer, pulling my body firm against his.

“I’m going to take care of you now,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “You don’t have to be scared. You’re mine, and I’m never going to let you go.”

Panic surges through me, fueling my fight-or-flight instinct. I shove him, twisting in an attempt to break free, and somehow, I manage to escape his grip. Without a second thought, I dash for the door, my feet slipping on the hardwood floor and my slippers fall off my feet, as I quickly unlocked it and bolt outside and into the snow.

The cold from the snow is agonizing against my bare feet, but I can’t afford to stop. I sprint toward the trees, the snow crunching beneath me as I push forward, my lungs burning with every desperate breath. I can hear his footsteps pounding in the snow behind me, but I dare not look back.

“Run, snowflake! Run as fast as you can!” he calls, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Fuck, I love a good chase. It makes the catch so much fucking better!”

Tears blur my vision as I race through the forest, branches clawing at my skin, the cold seeping deep into my bones. My feet are fucking numb, and yet the icy snow burns like fire with each step, but I keep going. I have to get away.

I have to escape.

“Faster, little snowflake!” he taunts, his laughter echoing off the trees. “When I finally catch you, I’m going to fill you with Christmas cheer, stuffing you so fucking full you won’t be able to think of anything but me. You’ll be my perfect little present, overflowing with all the fucking joy you can handle. Isn’t that what every good little girl wants on Christmas Day? To be Santa Johnny’s own personal come stocking?”

His words slice through the freezing air, sending a fresh wave of panic coursing through me. No, no. I stumble slightly but regain my footing, pushing harder, feeling adrenaline surgethrough my veins. Then, as if he’s caught up in his own twisted rhythm, he starts to sing:

“Killer clown, killer clown,

Stalking through the snow,

Ribbons tight, silent night,

Nowhere left to go.”

I shake my head, focusing on the trees ahead, the dark shadows of the forest closing in around me. Each breath feels like my lungs are on fire, yet I can’t stop. I must keep moving. I have to escape. But beneath the terror, a flicker of something else ignites within me. He’s putting in a level of effort I’ve never experienced before—more than Mark ever did.

“Killer clown, killer clown,

On his blood-red sleigh,

No escape, his twisted shape,

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