She spots a ball wrapped in fancy christmas paper under the tree. Clive, her son will not be disappointed this year. A rectangular box, half as tall as Sussie, rattles with the dull, heavy thump of the doll her daughter has craved for everyday since it appeared on the toy store’s show window. She cannot wait to see those beautiful brown eyes lighting up at the sight of this equally beautiful treat.
She came late to the gift-giving part of the evening this year, owing to Johnny’s worst tantrum in years. But no matter. She’s sure the partially unwrapped train set in the corner will be enough to pacify her youngest. If she’s lucky, the little tyke may not even mind the bloodstains on the exposed side of the box. No, Johnny’s too young to question things like that.
Tonight’s a good night to spoil her kids rotten. She’s also had her fill of fresh blood from the family she’s been stalking for weeks.
Balancing her precious loots under both arms, Mary pays the Millers one last glance. Their eyes have glazed over, frozen in a familiar look of fear.
She genuinely hopes her gratitude reaches them in the afterlife.
*Inspired by this prompt from Writers Write’s Facebook page.