For all the lack of care in getting it in her mouth, the Santa creature seemed very deliberate and intent on its work. Its face was still primarily human, showing the worn features of an old, thin man with a patchy grey beard and sad, roving eyes that sometimes seemed to flicker with a dim green light. The man’s lips were thin and ceaselessly moving as he poured, his eyes locked on Melanie’s as he slowly killed her. He kept saying the same word over and over, his deep, dry voice seeming to constantly be on the verge of breaking with emotion.

“Believe. Believe. Believe.”

****

Three hours earlier I was sitting at the police station waiting for my sister to come pick me up when I got a text from her.

At the house. Where R U?

I felt my heart start thudding in my chest. I had specifically told her that I would wait at the police station for her because I didn’t want to go back to the house. What made her go there? Fumbling with my phone, I tried to quickly call her, but I was interrupted by another text.

I think I saw you inside. I’m coming in.

I punched the button to call her, but it just rang and rang before going to voicemail. I tried a second time as I started heading up to the front desk at the station to ask for help. That’s when I saw she was calling me back.

“Hello? Mel, get out of…”

“You need to come home, Clarissa.” It was an older man’s voice, but it was unfamiliar. “You need to come home so we can get started. If we have to start without you, or you ask your police friends to come…well, it won’t go well for her and we’ll still catch up with you later.”

“Please let her go. I’ll come back, that’s fine. Just let her go first.”

I thought I heard a brief, sour laugh from the man. “We just need the two of you to help us with something and then we’ll be on our way. Promise.”

****

I went to the house without telling anyone. A dozen times I almost went back to the police or called 911, but each time I saw the image of my sister, torn apart except for her beautiful face. Her dead eyes stared at me, accusing me, saying that she was only dead because she tried to help me. Because of something that…if not my fault, exactly, was at least my responsibility.