Sorcha stared at the wooden chalet on the hill with sparks of childlike excitement in her eyes. ‘It’s sooo beautiful! she cooed, imagining all the candy canes and gingerbread men waiting inside. She turned to Heda with a wide smile and asked, ‘How did you manage to get is for Christmas! You had to book it like a year in advance!’
Heda dropped her backpack on the ground next to the car and glanced up at the house. ‘Not at all,’ she replied with a slick smile, ‘It’s THE house.’
‘The house?’ Sorcha asked.
‘Have you not head about THE HOUSE?!’
Sorcha glanced at Nollaig for help, but her girlfriend only rolled her eyes at Heda and offered no hint. ‘N-no?’ she stuttered.
Heda’s eyes widened in her face. Sorcha could swear all the light dimmed in Granite Falls as the witch lifted her hand and pointed at the chalet, which, just moments ago seemed so warm and inviting. ‘This is the house all those high-schoolers died in last Christmas. They said it belonged to a man who hated Christmas… and high schoolers. He died on Christmas and now he returns every year to murder whoever dares to celebrate Christmas at his chalet of doooooooooooooom.’
By the time Heda finished Sorcha was cuddled up into Nollaig’s side, her green eyes watching the chalet fearfully. ‘R-really?’
‘Yes-s,’ hissed Heda. ‘They say he guts his enemies and uses their…’
‘HEDA! Darling! Stop scaring our guests, please!’ yelled Shadow from afar, cutting off her Christmas decoration tip. The unexpected scream also made Sorcha yelp and push her nose deeper into her girlfriend’s coat.
Heda couldn’t help but laugh as she stepped forward, leading them toward the friendly chalet, which they only managed to land because the real-estate agent was a fan. She still though her story had more spark to it…