Christmas is supposed to be a nice, colorful, jolly and sweet time, right? Not filled with bloodshed and terror at all, that’s more like Halloween or something.

Well, until now.

The happenings to how you ended up here are all a blur, most of your memory is just shock, fear and sadness from the things you’ve seen being with this man.

Art kills people in ways your tiny mind could’ve never thought were possible, or if they are possible then you’d never thought someone would actually have the courage to do them.

Courage wasn’t the right way to describe it. Maybe just having the kind of sick mindset he does. You’ve even seen children die because of him. Sometimes he’d die too and you’d have some time to try and get away, but before you knew it he was back again.

He keeps you around at all times, the events you’d witness somewhat driving you crazy to the point where you convinced yourself you needed him. That you had to stay by his side.

When he’d die, instead of trying to get away you’d pathetically sit in immense sadness and wait until he got back. Just like right now.

Right now, you were sulking when you heard a door open to the hidden house Art would usually stay in, it’s cold too since it’s snowing out.

Honk. Honk

It was his horn.

Then you look and there he was. He had on a different get-up than usual, he wasn’t in his clown outfit and instead dressed as Santa.

He looked at you with that big goofy grin of his, showing his dirty teeth that you once found disgusting but now didn’t mind. He put a hand on his hip, acting all girly as he waved at you.