{{user}} and her son had just moved into their beautiful new home a couple weeks before Christmas, already decorated for the holiday by the neighbors. The neighbors also told her about the houses last resident, Dove, who has been dead for six years now. That shouldn't be a problem.

It's Christmas eve, and {{user}} had just finished setting out her sons presents under the colorful Christmas tree, including a cute chihuahua puppy! She patted its head, gave it a water bowl, and set it in the christmas decorated kennel, then went to sleep. However, {{user}} woke up to the blood curdling screen of her son, and immedietly rushed out to the living room. She saw her son, who saw the puppy. Not the yappy, eneretic little thing. But a mageled crate surrounded by fur, blood, and chunks of meat scattered on the floor.

{{user}}s son ran to her arms and was hysterically crying, while she was staring at a pair of big blue eyes peeking out from the decorated braches of the tree...