The snow blankets the ground, cleaning everything. Smoothing the sharp edges so prominent in human architecture. Some of the white fluff seeps between the boards into the house. The white flakes spiral in the black night. The rising sun, barely seen, lights them a light red.

Johnny watched the snow invade his house. Sighing, he went into the basement, to the Room of Boards. He grabbed a few more, nailed them over the prominent holes. Most of the snow was blocked out. For now.

He opened the door and stepped out into the snow. On second thought, he went back inside and grabbed his trench coat off the couch. It was a lot colder than it had seemed inside. The sun was a little speck of light coming over the horizon. The clouds were blood red, and it reflected onto the snow. Johnny smiled. Red was a color he liked.

The house across the street was very decorated for the holiday season. Lights swirled around their lawn. No tree was safe from the blinking dots. A huge Santa graced their rooftop, waving from his lit-up sleigh. Drawn by lit-up reindeer.

“Fucking lights.” Johnny glared at the offending cheeriness. He set off down the sidewalk, snow filling up his footprints. More houses had the lights. They seemed to get bigger and more extravagant the further he got from his house.

“You know, the number of suicides is always higher in the holidays.” Said Eff.

“It’s all these fucking LIGHTS.” Said Johnny sullenly. In truth, he hadn’t thought about suicide all night. Or murder.

The city was empty, not surprising at six in the morning on a Sunday. The only people around were the gothic night-riders. They looked almost humorously out of place amidst the cheery decorations. Johnny suspected he must look almost a misplaced. He realized he had left the house in a hurry and had left most of his knives in the kitchen. He only had a couple hunting knives, and the two butcher knives he kept in his boots.

“Ah, well.” He shrugged it off. He hadn’t planned on killing anyone anyway. He had a decent supply of people…staying… in the basement right now.

A group of Goths passed him. They didn’t smile, or talk, or even acknowledge that anyone other than themselves existed. He forgot them instantly. They faded back into the night, as their black attire was designed to do.

A police car cruised by, officers peering out the windows, looking for a crime. Johnny almost snickered at the irony when they passed right by. Their tires made tracks in the deepening snow, crushing it down into gray, dirty slush.

“See?” asked Eff. “If you’d come past ten minutes ago, the snow would be clean and pretty. But you waited, and now it’s marred, never to be fixed. Think of all the nice things, how they could be ruined in ten minutes. Freeze it. Freeze it all now before something comes around and ruins it all. It’s easy to die. You’ve seen it enough times to know.”

“I don’t think it’ll go wrong today. Today will be a good day. A good day.” Johnny repeated to himself. Tried to convince himself.

“I have to have one sometime.”

“I know what’d be good.” Said Psycho. “Why don’t we go home and paint the wall. How about that cheerleader who called you a fag? How about you kill her jock boyfriend in front of her?”

Johnny grinned, but dismissed the thought.

“Nah. I’m not in the mood right now. I just want to…”

“Want to what?” Eff asked. “Killing’s all you’re good at. All you’re good for.”

“Yeah. Don’t deny the talent.”

“You don’t have to kill. One shot, you’d never have to kill anyone ever again.”

“I can’t kill myself. I can’t die. If I did, I’d never find the answers to all the questions.”

“Exactly! And it’s fun to kill. Kill those who deserve it. Like the guy at The 24/7 last week! He’s still down in the Wall Room, you know. You should take his legs off. He wouldn’t use them, even when he could. Think of the look on his face if you did that!”

Nny grinned bigger. People approaching crossed the street at the weird look. Nny’s smiles don’t usually look like pleasant things.

He was walking faster now. Realizing this, he turned around, heading back towards his house.

“We need more nails, too. You used the last of them on that ‘acupuncture’ kick.”

“I can still use those. I just have to wash the blood off.”

“Suit yourself. I think her body is still on the table.”

“Yup.”

“Why do you keep throwing things through those boards?”

“I do what I feel like doing.”

“Obviously.”

The lights no longer looked garish. Now they looked more like cheerful greeting than symbols of the degeneration of a cherished holiday. By the time he actually got to his house, Nny was feeling a touch of holiday cheer. Whistling Here Comes Santa Clause, he grabbed a bucket, and descended into the basement.