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They’d failed in killing him, but they’d succeeded in sucking the joy out of Christmas.
newfound powers. What life? he thought. What kind of life is this? Watching these sniveling little shits terrorize their friends, parents, and teachers all year long, only to switch it up and act nice for one month a year, all so they can receive gifts they don’t deserve. Fuck them, I’m done.
he’d even popped the eyeballs out of their respective sockets and skull fucked her disembodied head.
Deep down, Cindy knew there wasn’t anything wrong with being poor. It didn’t make you less of a person or make you a bad person, but it did make you a target.
Until Feltcher had caught him giving hand jobs in the library for commissary orders.
He was an addict. Not to chemical dependency but to running away from the thing that hurt him most: Courtney’s memory.
These days it was taking longer to get hard, even when he was beating his cock hard enough to catch a domestic charge.
“Deck the halls with blood and excrement, fa la la la la . . .”
Mischief wasn’t the only thing he wanted to spread this holiday season.
corner. What better way to please his master than incorporating seasonal imagery into his shenanigans?
The problem is your personality. You can’t even get a guy to forget about what a shitty person you are for two minutes.”
The crimson liquid sloshed into the back of Carl’s mouth and down his throat, gagging him with the very liquid that gave him life.
I don’t want a fucking trip to Universal Studios. I don’t care about fancy new cars. I want my mom and dad to be there for me. Mom’s dead, so she can’t do that. You? You might as well be dead, as much as you’re not around.”
“His name is Sprinkles. And he is a he, not an it.”
something about Christmas horror just hit differently.
preach it
“If you ever say ‘no cap’ in my house again, you’re gonna be walking home in this blizzard, man.
“You should be afraid, little girl. I’m not Santa. There’s no such thing as Santa. Christmas miracles aren’t real. But Christmas nightmares? You’re looking at one.”
“Is that piss? Sprinkles loves piss,”
