He went back inside, but didn’t feel up to the clean up just yet. He turned on the Christmas tree and watched the white and colored lights dance a blinking happy tune across the walls and ceiling of his room. He stoked the fire with more wood, turned on Christmas music, sat back in his chair, and closed his eyes. The last image he saw (which was on purpose mind you) was of the picture on his mantel. Smiles frozen forever, Christmas outfits never to be worn again.
December the 23rd
Mike woke up the next morning to a knock at the door and a quiet house. The Christmas tree was still sparkling and doing its thing, the ornaments hanging here and there with a precision touch, neat and organized, as he grabbed a pistol nearby, shook the bad dream cobwebs free, and walked over to the peephole.
He peered through, and then reached down and unlocked the door after putting his pistol away.
“I was wondering if you were going to let us in or not,” Jim Wells replied, as he stepped into the house. He turned around to see where Fred was. He was still standing guard on the top step, so intent on watching the area that he didn’t even know the door was open or that two people were talking. “He’s good Mike, too good sometimes.” Jim tapped the man on the shoulder. “Fred. It’s safe. We can go inside.”
Fred Walg didn’t jump or move in any spastic manner when he was tapped on the shoulder, he just turned and followed after them.
“Can I get you guys something to drink?” Mike asked, closing and locking the door.
The three guys meandered into the living room. Jim and Fred took a seat on opposite ends of the couch while Mike worked on getting a fire started.
5 out of 5 stars – I love zombies and I love Christmas ~ A winner!
5 out of 5 stars – A Cute Little Holiday Horror Story.
5 out of 5 stars – In a zombie world, there is a Christmas miracle.
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