The Merry Christmas Killer

Part One: by Jared Rittberger

Merry Christmas!

Candy and Cain lost all control and were going at it out in the yard for all the neighbors to see. Cain was wearing a fancy red Christmas bow around his neck but Candy wore nothing at all. As he always did, Cain was doing it doggie-style.

Watching out his kitchen window, Stu Piddass exploded. With Christmas only days away, he had just lost his job and now this, his beloved Candy!

"I take my eyes off that girl for one damn second and look what happens!" Stu screamed as he burst out the door holding his wood-chopping ax. "This is the last time you'll impregnate any more bitches with your piece-of-shit puppies!"

The one thing Stu hated more than his neighbor was his neighbor's dog, Cain. He was fed up with chewed-up newspapers and steaming heaps of dog-shit waiting for him every morning on his front porch but having his purebred black lab contaminated with inferior genetics was the last straw. Stu charged Cain and began to hack him into a whimpering, writhing piece of hamburger while Cain's blood spurted back on his face and clothes. Stu knew he was going to spend a few days in jail over this.

But Stu Pidass was about to get a lot more than that!

***

Nearly choking on his donut as he looked down the street, Captain Hugh Jass of the Rapid City police could hardly believe his luck. Only minutes earlier and a block away, a notorious serial killer had just slipped through their fingers, again. The murderer, nicknamed the Merry Christmas Killer, had so far butchered ten people in town and had announced the carnage would only stop once five-million dollars were deposited into a Swiss bank account. All of the deaths had been terribly gruesome and the killer's calling card were the words "Merry Christmas" written on the walls of the victims' houses in their own blood. The city was paralyzed with fear, Christmas sales were down, and the cops were under enormous pressure to stop the killings.

"I've got a visual of a man matching the suspect's description, covered with blood and carrying an ax!" Jass blurted into his radio. "Request backup at 742 Evergreen Terrace!"

Nearby, the Merry Christmas Killer listened to the radio traffic on the scanner and chuckled at the sound of sirens and helicopters. The cops were desperate and would throw every resource they had at their newfound and mistaken suspect. The city was bitterly divided about paying the five-million. If the killing continued, the city would lose a fortune on lost sales tax revenue and the immense sums of money the police were using to pursue the murderer. Yes, the frustrated and pressured policemen might very well shoot first and ask questions later.

And the Merry Christmas Killer would be off the hook!

However, this gift of luck didn't mean it was a time for slacking off. The Merry Christmas Killer had to keep up the gruesome work in order to get that five-million. It was time to spread some more of the holiday spirit!

Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas!

Part Two: by Craig Schaffer

“Come on, Billy,” Kris Moss called to her son as she poured Honey Nut Cheerios into a bowl. “We have to get a move on if we’re going to get to Grandma’s in time for dinner.”

“OK, Mom—I just have to get to the next level.”

“You can finish that tonight after we get home,” Kris replied, already ruing the day she bought the Galactic Knight Space Crusader video game for Billy’s one big Christmas present. Bob, her ex, wouldn’t have thought twice about giving Billy a game that promoted violence, but Kris had struggled with the dilemma of standing up for her principles and disappointing her ten-year-old son, or going against what she believed in order to make Billy happy on his first Christmas without having his dad around.

“Mom—phone!” Billy yelled from the living room. Two seconds later the telephone did in fact ring. Kris shook her head as she lifted the receiver, wondering, as always, how Billy knew when the phone was going to ring. Probably my mother checking to make sure we’re coming she thought as she said, “Hello.”

“Sis…I’m in trouble…I need your help.”

“Stu?”

Esther Garvin looked through the small window in her front door at a bearded man she didn’t recognize who was holding a blue plastic bag with something in it. The man saw her and smiled as he said, “Meals On Wheels.”

Esther opened the door cautiously but kept the storm door latched. “ You must be new, what happened to Fred?”

“Poor guy—he came down with the flu that’s been going around. May I come in, it’s kind of nippy out here.”

“Land sakes, what am I thinking? Come in, come in,” Esther said as she unlatched the outer door. The unmistakable odor of litter box assailed the man’s nose as he entered the house and closed the door behind him.

“You’re here much earlier than Fred—I’m not even really hungry yet,” Esther said as no less than a half dozen cats swarmed around her feet as she shuffled toward her kitchen. “I was just about to feed my cats. You can just set the bag on the ta…”

Her final word was cut off as the man stuffed the balled up blue plastic bag into the old woman’s mouth with his left hand and slashed her throat with his right.

“Merry Christmas,” he said as he thought how prophetic the woman had been about feeding the cats.

Part 3: by Jim Cissell

The Merry Christmas killer’s targets were picked with some care. He abhorred random acts of violence. Computer access came easy to him so it wasn’t difficult to do background checks on potentials. His previous victims were deserving of death for various reasons, including the fact that they hadn’t long to live anyway. Esther Garvin fit into that category although she may not have known it.

Carmen Perez was a category unto herself. A 3rd-generation Yanqui, she’d been born and raised in Watertown, SD, as had her parents. She was a rather nondescript young woman, not particularly talented in any field and given to changing jobs every year and a half or so. Her death sentence stemmed an incident at the Jackson Boulevard Burger King. Not paying attention to what she was doing, she had stepped backward onto a man’s foot. She was wearing gaudy spiked heels (a crime in and of itself). The man, of course, was the Merry Christmas killer.

Eleven killings later, Merry Christmas was ready to blend Carmen Perez into the mounting toll of bodies. He knew where she lived.

For Carmen, as with the others, there was no warning. The attack was different. Merry Christmas threw the knife, a well-balanced Alamagoro Steel. He aimed at her forehead. Brainless bi… No, he couldn’t afford anger. He needed a steady hand.

The knife came at her at a blinding 45 feet per second. The blade of the knife completed its final turn just before impact. Had there been any time to react, it wouldn’t have been enough. Impact sent her reeling backwards, falling to the ground. Blood trickled down both sides of her forehead and into her eyes. She lay there, her hands raised to clutch at the knife.

The killer walked to his latest victim and looked down at the body. He had a sense that something wasn’t right. The blood said otherwise. Reaching down to retrieve his knife, he noticed how far out of the young woman’s skull the knife protruded – almost as though she had caught it. That was when his left leg collapsed.

Carmen twisted away from the man, pushed with her left arm. She brought her right leg up and around, behind his left, buckling the knee. As he went down, he heard the melon-like thunk as his head struck the ground.

Quickly she was on her feet. With a swift sidestep to avoid his grasping arm, she did a little hop across him being careful to bring the gaudy spike of a three inch heel down solidly into the middle of her attacker’s throat – actually, more though it than simply into it. The heel crushed his spinal cord. Yes, she carefully brought her foot down. She didn’t want him dead
.

Part 4: by Donna Graham

Captain Hugh Jass was waiting for the swat team to get set up. The snow-covered yard was red with blood splatter and a mass of bone and blood. It reminded him of butchered deer after a hunting trip, of bones scattered by dogs so they could gnaw on them. And here were dog bones and blood. Ironic. He wondered what the house looked like. Would their be human blood and guts and bone? What happened that this Merry Christmas killer went after a friggin dog?

Kris Moss was standing in the kitchen on the cell phone. The caller ID showed her brother.

“Sis, I did something really stupid.”

Kris Moss sighed, biting her tongue. Stu had been in trouble before. Why couldn’t he think! Why’d he always give into impulse and then ask for her help in dealing with the results.

Stu said, “You know that damn dog just can’t stay in his own yard. He was knocking up Candy!! Well, I’m tired of him running loose, shitting in my yard. I’d had enough and I took care of it.”

Kris was not able to restrain herself with her younger brother any longer. “It’s not the dog’s fault. He’s just doing what dogs (she almost said males) do.”

She inquired, “What’s that noise?”

Ignoring her, Stu responded, “You don’t get it. Listen. I took an ax to the dog! I guess a little blood got on me. He was asking for it, fucking my Candy. I only killed a dog.”

“The cops are out front and they’re saying I’m the Merry Christmas killer! Damn, sis. What am I going to do?"

“Oh, my God!” Her voice rose an octave. “That noise! Is it the cops? They’re gonna try and kill you. How could you be so stupid! Oh, my God”!

Billy, looked up from his game. “Mom, Uncle Stu is in trouble.”

Kris thought, how can he be so matter of factt? Somehow, looking at her son calmed her.

“Yes, Uncle is in trouble.” She breathed for a few seconds. She attended to the phone again.

“Kris, there’s helicopters above the house. Can you hear them? And blow-horns!”

“Stu Pidass!, Was that a beer can? Are you drinking? Don’t do anything. I’m going to call a friend. He can help you. His name is Rudolf St. Nicholas.”

She hung up and started scrolling through her contact list. Rudolf had knowledge and skills that might save her brother.

Part 5: by Dorothy Rosby

The name was an alias of course. Rudolf St. Nicholas was actually born Adolph Rudolph some 45 years ago. He'd never told Kris where. He had told her how tough it was to grow up with a handle like that, how the kids called him Rudolf the Red Nosed Fascist. "You live up to people's expectations," he'd told her. "Or down to them." He wasn't proud of his past.

But something had changed him, maybe it was one too many Christmas specials. He'd moved to Rapid City four years ago, changed his name, and started playing Santa at the mall every year. They'd met at an AA meeting, both needing a sympathetic ear. She'd told him that the accident that killed her ex-husband's girlfriend was no accident. He'd told her about a few hitchhikers and prostitutes who had mysteriously disappeared from his home town. They'd sworn each other to secrecy and pledged to support each other in their quest for better karma.

After the fist Merry Christmas slaying, she'd called, wondering if he'd backslid. He'd assured her he wasn't the killer, but he had some ideas about who might be and he was thinking about going after the two million dollar reward the police were offering for his capture. Two million was a better deal for the city than the five the killer was asking for. And if anyone could catch the guy, Rudolf could. He knew the mind of a serial killer.

Now Kris was back on the phone, asking for his help. "Rudolph, they think it's Stu." She sounded scared. It was kind of sexy.

"Stu? No way. Don't take this wrong, but your brother ain't got the brains to pull off ten murders without getting caught. "

"I know that! Only thing he killed was a dog in his front yard."

"Like I said. . . . No self-respecting serial killer knocks off anyone--even a dog--in his yard."

"I know. But Captain Jass and the Swat team are at his house now."

"He needs to surrender."

"But he didn’t do it."

"I know that. But Jass ain't much smarter than Stu. He surrenders or he gets shot. He's safer in jail. Then you and me gonna bring that killer in. Unless someone beats us to it."

Part 6: by Lynn Fuerst

Kris Moss hung up the phone, dialed again and tried to regroup as her brother answered.

“You’ve got to surrender!” she blurted.

“What do you mean surrender? Are you nuts? They want to kill me!”

“Hey, Stu! You can either be a shithead and die or surrender and live. Take your choice!”

“OK. I’ll surrender, Sis, but you’re not my mother and you need to quit talking down to me,”

"Oh, grow up, Stu. I’ll be in touch.”

She clicked the receiver, dialed her mother’s number and made arrangements to leave Billy with her for a few days. Kris avoided answering any questions about Stu.

“All I can tell you right now, Mom, is he’s in trouble again.”

***

The door at 742 Evergreen Terrace opened wide enough for an arm waving a dirty white dishtowel to emerge into the daylight.

“I give up! I GIVE UP!” a loud squeaky voice shouted.

“Hold your fire men! SIR! Come out with your hands above your head!”

A bloody, defeated figure appeared in the door way, hands over his head, dirty dishtowel still clutched in his fingers. In seconds, he was overwhelmed by the entire SWAT team, cuffed and dragged brutally to a waiting squad car. Captain Jass looked on triumphantly and thumped the car roof as a sign to move out. That same squeaky voice was heard whining loudly in protest as the car sped out of the driveway.

“All I did was kill that asshole dog!”

***

Rudolf sat in his car waiting for Kris. He hated truck stops, but they were a damn good place to meet someone. The parking lots were so busy nobody paid much attention to the comings and goings of anyone. He jumped half out of his seat as Kris jerked the door open and slid into the passenger seat.

“Well, what’s your plan?” she said breathlessly.

“I’ve got an idea this guy works for the city, All of his victims, so far, have been enrolled in assistance programs. I think he’s getting his info from the computers in the Administration Building. He can find out their vital stats, plus use the assistance program to gain their trust. Every single victim let Merry Christmas in willingly.”

“Good thinking, but how are we going to prove that?”

“I have a friend who recently started working at the Admin. Building. I’ve known her for years. She’s a great amateur sleuth. She and I worked on a few cold cases together. She’s got great instincts.”

Kris eavesdropped as Rudolf looked for a number in his phone’s directory, The name that popped up was Carmen Perez.

“Wait til you see her! She’s almost 6 feet tall, but she always insists on wearing these sky high spike heels! What a character!”

Part 7: by Lori Speirs

Carmen’s foot slipped from her shoe as the heel remained stuck between her attacker's C5 & C6 vertebrae. The heel served to plug the wound and lessened the blood loss. The injury she had dealt to his spinal cord severed the movement to his neck and shoulder muscles, but hopefully left his trachea and larynx intact, and the ability to speak. At least that had been her spur-of-the-moment battle plan when he attacked her in her own home. Her plans no matter how spontaneous, rarely failed. Even so, Plan B would be that he would answer her questions with blinks, though it would be time consuming, it would also keep her neighbors from hearing any part of her interrogation.

He was still out from the blow to his head when he had fallen.

Knowing he wouldn’t feel anything, she quickly searched his pockets. He had less than a hundred bucks in cash and no ID. She studied his face, she had seen him somewhere before.

Blood dripped into her eyes from the knife-cuts and it pissed her off. After aiming a kick to his family jewels that he would never feel, she hastened to the bathroom to look at her forehead injuries. She carefully cleaned the cuts and applied butterfly bandages. Finding she could cover the evidence with a different hairstyle slightly mollified her. She took antiseptic, gauze pads and tape to the kitchen. Kneeling, she pried the heel from his spine and used the knowledge from her stint as an EMT to quickly bandage his wound. She wiped the blood from her shoes with his shirt.

Holding him by the chin to keep his head aligned, she slapped his cheeks. “C’mon, jerk, wake up.”

His eyes slowly opened and she watched as terror filled his gaze as he became aware he was paralyzed.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked.

Her phone rang. She said, “You stay quiet, I don't want to have to kill you right now.” She paused to pick up her shoe before answering, “Hello? Oh, Rudolf, this is unexpected.”

“I need your research skills, can you access your work files from home?”

Laughing she said, “Given a little time, I could access your work files from my computer.” She bit her lip. “You aren't setting me up for something are you? I know you're on the straight and narrow now.”

“A friend of mine needs help. Have you ever met Kris Pidass Moss? Her brother was picked up by the cops and is suspected of being the Merry Christmas Killer. There's no way he could coordinate anything that well. I believe the identity to the real killer is in the employee files of the city admin.”

“I really have to take care of something rather pressing right now.” As her attacker began to croak sounds, she glared at his pale face and brandished her shoe at him. “How soon do you need the info?”

Part 8: by Karin Becht

“Yesterday would be nice.” Rudolf chuckled on the other end of the phone.

Carmen ignored Rudolf’s reply, as her attention was suddenly captivated by the quadriplegic man with a hole in his throat whom she had propped up against her living room wall. Carmen clicked the call end button on her cell phone, not bothering to give Rudolf any sort of explanation. At least not yet.

The man gurgled something incoherent through his newly carved tracheotomy.

“I know who you are!” Carmen proclaimed, shaking her bent stiletto at him. “I remember you, you jackass!” She paced before him with an obvious limp to her step, her other weapon remaining intact on her foot. “You’re the asshole who always stiffed me.”

Bubbly blood seeped from the man’s bandage, with every effort he made to counter the bitch’s remarks. How dare she accuse him!

“I had to come back three or four times a week to your shit-hole of a house, to try and collect my paper route money. What was it? Ah, yes. 741 Evergreen Terrace.” Carmen stomped down on the man’s groin again, remembering her brief stint as a delivery girl for the Rapid City Journal. “And every time I pulled my bike into your drive, that dumb ass dog of yours – Cain – always charged at me. He’d hump my leg, making me then fall off my bike. Newspapers would fly everywhere, and he’d rip them to shreds!”

Bloody foam spurted out of the man’s trach-hole, as he sat laughing at Carmen recount her ordeal.

The man’s response infuriated Carmen. “And you’d always just stand there in your doorway, laughing at me. Just like you are now!”

The man continued to laugh, spurting blood from the wound in his neck. His pallor went from pale to ashen, but snicker he did.

Carmen also ignored the signs, too furious to think rationally. “You think that’s funny? Do you!” She swung her arm back, ready to strike one last time.

A combination of laughter and wheezing filled the room. He was determined to have the last laugh.

“Well, I’ll give you something to really laugh about!” Carmen’s arm shot forward, the bent stiletto re-puncturing the man’s wound again and again. Carmen did not stop until the head was nearly severed. She had to be sure there would be no more laughter. Little did she know that the bludgeoned body before her was that of the Merry Christmas killer!

***

“That’s odd,” Rudolf said as he turned to Kris. “We must’ve had a bad connection. Hang on. I’ll try her again.” Rudolf redialed Carmen’s number and waited for her to answer. When she finally did, Rudolf wasn’t the least bit surprised by what she said next.

“Sorry to have cut you off like that Rudolf,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll do my best to help you find this Merry Christmas killer, whoever he is, in the employee files of the city admin building. But first I’m gonna need your skills to help me hide a body.”

Part 9: by Jen Blake

“Damn!” Rudolf slammed his phone shut. He put the car in gear and tore out of the parking log toward Carmen’s. “Damn!”

Kris sat silently, though turning pale, as Rudolf explained what little Carmen had told him. “Let me take care of this and then we’ll figure out how to help Sid. I promise.” He reached over and squeezed Kris’s hand.

When they pulled into Carmen’s driveway, Rudolf still didn’t have a clue how he was going to ditch a body or save Sid. What he needed was a drink. He’d have to settle for a chocolate shake. Maybe even a piece of that sinful chocolate cake from the Millstone. Yeah, that’s what he’d get. Once this whole mess was cleaned up.

Carmen was outside waiting for them when they arrived. For once she wasn’t wearing her signature stilettos. Instead, she was barefoot. She had to be freezing, Rudolf thought. It wasn’t even twenty degrees out. He noticed the blood on her clothes, smeared on her face. Her smile, though, was infectious. Rudolf almost expected her to invite them in for coffee instead of to plan a body dump.

Once inside the home, Rudolf motioned for Carmen and Kris to wait in the other room. He wanted to survey the damage, to find out what type of cleanup was going to be needed. This sure as hell wasn’t his first rodeo, but he was pretty sure it was Kris’s. She didn’t need to see the carnage he was afraid would be waiting.

He was right. The blood splattered on Carmen was nothing compared to the mess in the living room. The carpet definitely needed to be replaced in there. It would be better if Carmen could just move. Far away.

In the other room, Kris was explaining Sid’s problem to Carmen when Rudolf joined them. He didn’t wait for the women to quiet down before he started ordering them around. “Carmen, you need to change clothes. Wash those. At least twice. Or burn them. Either way. And get me a shovel and some garbage bags. Kris, the scene in the other room is ugly. Buck up. I’m going to need your help. I’ve closed his eyes, though Carmen damn near decapitated him so it’s a freaking mess in there.” Rudolf shot Carmen a dirty look before continuing. “Who the hell is he?”

Carmen explained what she knew and how her rage overcame her. She was detached as she explained decapitating the man. “Sorry,” she said with a shrug when she finished.

Kris had paled even more as Carmen related the story. “Cain? That’s the dog Sid said he killed.” She sobbed, trying to regain her composure. “I know the guy’s name. It’s Cuddle Bunny Jones. He’s Sid’s neighbor.”

Rudolf looked surprised. “What did you say his name was?”

“Cuddle Bunny Jones,” Kris repeated. “I went to school with him. Can’t say he deserved much better.”

“Show me the knife,” Rudolf ordered, a look of understanding creeping into his face.

Carmen grabbed the knife she’d pulled from her own head earlier and handed it to Rudolf. “Not sure what that’s going to tell you.”

A slow, creepy smile started across Rudolf’s face as Kris and Carmen watched. “You did it, Carmen. You really did it.”

Rudolf grabbed his cell phone and placed a call to his cousin, Hugh. “Dude, get your team over here right away. And bring the city’s check book. Rapid City owes my friend a cool two million.”

He had plenty of time before Capt. Hugh Jass and his team would get to Carmen’s. Plenty of time to explain what happened and for the three of them to get their stories straight.

***

The official story was that Rudolf St. Nicholas and Kris Moss were headed to Carmen Perez’s home for coffee and donuts. Rudolf and Kris arrived as Carmen was being attacked by the Merry Christmas Killer. Rudolf immediately called Capt. Hugh Jass while Kris and Carmen were able to subdue the killer. Carmen explained her theory that the Merry Christmas Killer had used the city’s computer system to find his victims. Having a civilian catch the killer did nothing for Jass’s career and he couldn’t get promoted any higher. A few years later he left the Rapid City police force and ran for governor of South Dakota. He was elected by a landslide.

Carmen Perez received the city’s reward money, as well as a contract to fix the gaps in the city’s computer system. She received enough that she was able to buy a new home — one without blood splattered through the living room — with cash. She still wears stilettos.

Stu Piddass was immediately released from the Rapid City Jail. Since his neighbor had been a serial killer, no charges were filled in Cain’s death. Stu tried to sue the city for wrongful imprisonment, but lost the case. He never realized what an idiot he really was.

Candy did have another litter of puppies. In fact, Candy was a party dog and had many more litters of puppies throughout the years.

Billy Moss grew up to win the Powerball three times. He now works for the psychic hotline.

Kris Moss spent the next few years trying to decide why Cuddle Bunny Jones had murdered his victims. Most of the deceased had caused some slight to Cuddle Bunny, like Carmen’s stepping on his foot. Esther Garvin, however, was the exception. Esther had been Cuddle Bunny’s third grade music teacher and he just didn’t like her. She died because she made Cuddle Bunny practice the flute.

Rudolf St. Nicholas eventually asked Kris Moss to marry him. She said yes and the two live happily in Caputa, South Dakota.

The End