Page 79 of Snowman

At the edge of the doorway, I stopped. Erick crouched beside me, gun in hand, waiting for the signal. I straightened my back, adjusted the mask one last time, and walked into the room.

The music kept playing. Jan and Donna were in their own little world, spinning and laughing, dancing. For a moment, I just stood there, watching them. Then I stepped forward, moving with the music, my boots tapping softly on the floor. They didn't notice at first. I raised my arms and spun around, dancing alongside them.

Donna saw me first, she froze, her face going pale. Jan followed her gaze and turned, his face shifting in fear.

I tilted my head.

"Don't stop on my account," I said.

Jan fumbled for the remote and turned off the music.

"Oh, fuck, that was my favorite part."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the knife.

"Jingle bells," I sang softly to myself. "Jingle bells, jingle knife away," I spun around, twirling the blade in my hand. My tone, almost teasing, tore them apart, and I just took a step closer, singing, "Oh, what fun it is to ride the blade," I giggled.

"In a one-horse open… slayed." I spun again. "Dashing through the snow," I sang softly, "making Snowman go."

Taking a step forward, "To slash your throat," I whispered, drawing closer, lifting the knife in the air.

Donna grabbed Jan's arm, her fingers brushing against his shirt. He stepped in front of her, his hands up in a shaky attempt to calm her.

"You're supposed to be in prison," he shouted, his voice cracking.

I took a step closer. "The funny thing about bars--they don't hold as well when you don't exist."

From behind, I heard Erik shouting, "Why did you burn the farm?"

"Please," Donna whispered, her voice trembling. "We didn't..."

"Lies." His voice cut through the room as he stepped forward, the gun steady. "You burned the farm. Don't even try to deny it."

Jan backed up until his shoulders hit the wall. "We can talk about this," he said, desperate. "We can figure this out."

I stared at him, at the panic in his eyes. I could feel the rage rising, but it wasn't the wildfire I expected. It was cold, and sharp, like he didn't care at all.

I tilted my head, studying him. "Talk?" I said quietly. "Sure. Let's talk."

Erik pressed the gun into Jan's neck, and he flinched, his breath hitching so rapidly. "Ingrid left a diary," he started, words tumbling over each other. "It... it talked about the cult, the family, and Lena." He looked at Donna as if she might save him.

"We just went to talk to her, I swear. But she… she freaked out! She came at us, and Jan hit her, and she fell," she whispered.

Erik's eyes narrowed, the tension in his body coiling tighter.

"The fire," Jan said quickly, his voice rising, "it was an accident! That's all it was."

"No," I said, cutting through his excuses. "She was alive. You left her there. You let her burn."

Donna's lip quivered as she spoke, "If we'd known, we wouldn't—"

"You wouldn't do a damn thing," Erik snapped. "Because this is who you are. This is what you do." He was shaking now, his fury barely contained.

I could see it, he was about to break.

"Take a walk," I said, stepping toward him.

"But—"

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