Chapter fifty-one – Nightmare Before Christmas

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December 17, 1987

It's been a few days since we went to Michael's old home to look around, and surprisingly, Michael is pretty happy at the moment. There is, of course, the underlying fear of Marco returning ... but other than that, he's doing okay.

It's been almost a month since dad died, and of course, it isn't easy. It's a weird feeling; losing a parent. You get used to being without them, but it doesn't make it easy to be without them. It always hurts ... but sometimes, it hurts less than other times. It's strange.

Today, the four of us are meeting together – Michael, myself, Clover and Reiss. It's nothing particularly special; it's just, I guess, to talk over Christmas plans. Christmas is only about a week away, now.

My house is now decorated with Christmassy lights, ornaments and – of course – a Christmas tree. It looks so festive, and it's beautiful. I love it. The sweetest thing is, Michael helped me to do it; and when he put the mistletoe up, he raised it above us both, and demanded a kiss. Being the nice, kind, lovely person I am, I obliged.

"So, we're going to Citria's house for Christmas Day, right?" Reiss asks, sitting back in his chair. We're at my dad's house, because we're also planning to decorate it in his honour after we've spoken.

"Yes, that's right," I answer. "And I'll be making dinner for us all. It's going to be lovely – despite everything that's happened."

"Agreed. It's for everyone we've lost," Clover smiles, sitting on the arm of Reiss' chair, by his side.

"It sure is," Michael adds, standing up from his seat. "Anyway ... maybe we should begin decorating this place. I can't wait to see how beautiful it looks after."

"Good idea. Let's start with the lights." As I grab a hold of the lights, I turn around to look at the others. "Where should we put them?"

"Put them on the curtain pole; jazz that up a little," Reiss advises me.

"Alright." Accepting his words, I head towards the curtains, dragging a chair with me as I go. To make myself a little taller, I stand on top of the chair, and use that as leverage to reach the curtain pole. I begin to twist the lights around it, and it starts to look so much more festive. It's really cute.

"That looks awesome," Michael comments behind me.

"I try my best," I chuckle, just reaching the middle section of the pole.

"Make sure they're evenly spread," Reiss jokily warns me.

For a brief moment, I turn my head to look at him in mock frustration. "Really? You think I don't know how to put Christmas lights up?" A small laugh accompanies my words.

"I know you can. Just checkin'," he replies, clearly amused.

"Right." Finally finishing the lights, I jump down from the chair, and rub my hands together in satisfaction. "There. Done. See? It's perfect."

"Citria's a modest one," Clover remarks sarcastically, but with clear playfulness.

Michael chuckles at Clover's comment. "So, now what?" He walks over to the decoration box, and rummages through it briefly. From inside of it, he brings out a couple ornaments of reindeers; one 'parent' reindeer, and one 'child' – because of their sizes. "Where should we put them?"

"Put them on the windowsill; they can look like they're looking out the window," I suggest, finding the idea of little reindeers watching the world outside quite cute.

"That's an adorable idea," Michael smiles, heading my way. He mutters into my ear. "From an adorable woman."

"We can hear your sickly words, you know!" Clover points out, immediately causing Michael to move away from me.

"I'm sorry, Clover; I didn't realise I can't show affection to my love," he argues playfully, shaking his head in amusement. He then walks over to the window, carefully setting the ornaments on the windowsill. "There. They're lookin' cute."

"Aww," Reiss snickers. "Now let's start with the—" He then pauses, his eyes snapping to the window. His lips part, as his brows furrow. "Did you guys see something out there?"

"No," I answer. "I was watching you, Reiss."

"I thought I saw a silhouette or something. Something dark. I-I don't know. Maybe it was just the light messing with me." He shakes his head, to dismiss what he thought he saw, before looking back down at the box. "Anyway, as I was saying before that, I think we should start with the Christmas tr—"

A loud sound comes from the front door, causing us all to jerk in surprise. My head turns Michael's way, and he looks absolutely terrified. He darts behind his uncle, harshly grabbing onto bunches of his jacket in fright. "It could be Marco!" he whispers.

"I doubt it. It was probably just the wind hitting the letter slot," I reassure him, despite feeling a little worried myself.

A moment later, Michael's prediction is confirmed. The living room door opens violently, and the nightmare suddenly becomes a reality.

It's Marco.

"Hey guys!" he grins, approaching us all. "Great to see you all again!" He looks around briefly, in mock confusion. "Little girl," he says, looking at me. "Where's your daddy? I don't see him around."

"What are you doing here, Marco?" I hiss, trying my hardest to appear dominant and confident.

"Answer my question, Citria. I said, where's your precious daddy?" His confusion then becomes a laugh, as he ventures closer to my father's chair. "Did my lovely brother go to see the magical angels in Heaven? Hm, did he?"

"Don't talk about my father," I demand, feeling myself become angrier by the second.

Marco nods, walking closer to Reiss, now. He looks behind his old friend. "What's this? Is little Michael too scared to face me? That's really cute."

"Get out. Now." Reiss shoots an evil glare at Marco, placing a protective hand in front of Michael.

Michael looks so scared right about now. He's been fearing this day for so long, and now it's here. Countless sleepless nights he's spent worrying about this moment.

"Or what?" Marco challenges, bringing his head close to Reiss'. "Don't act all tough. We all know I could give you another face scar like the last time we spoke."

My eyes widen in surprise. I knew he didn't get that cut from falling; he got it from Marco!

"Hang on ... " I speak aloud. "Last time you spoke? When was that?"

Marco's gaze shifts to me, and his serious expression becomes one of shock. Not genuine shock, though – it's more amusement. "Oh, Reiss! You never told them?"

Reiss looks down at the floor in disappointment, which only leaves me confused. Judging by Clover and Michael's expressions, they're confused, too.

"What is he talking about, Uncle Reiss?" Michael asks him, finally moving out from behind him.

"Tell 'em, buddy. Tell them exactly what you've done." Marco smirks, clearly satisfied at whatever he's made happen.

Reiss lifts his head, and I notice a tear falling down each side of his face. Whatever it is he's done, it must be bad. He sighs softly, parting his lips as he thinks what to say. "I ... " He seems to be struggling to tell us.

"You can tell us," Clover assures him, walking towards him, and taking his hands in hers. "We won't be angry at you." She raises her arm, using her fingers to dry away his tears.

Reiss averts his eyes to me. "Citria ... I'm the reason Marco got your number ... " he admits.

My eyebrows knit together. "What?" I demand, unsure on what this is about.

He swallows nervously, closing his eyes. Two more tears fall down his cheeks. "I said ... I'm the reason Marco got your number ... "

"But why, Uncle Reiss!" Michael cries. He doesn't look angry, but he isn't happy – obviously. "All this time I blamed Citria!"

"Because he bribed me!" Reiss explains.

"Now, Reiss, buddy! Tell it like it is; not like you wanna tell it!" Marco laughs, slapping Reiss on the back.

"I'm not lying! He threatened to kill us all if I didn't agree!" Reiss blurts out. "But because I helped him, he promised not to hurt any of us!"

"Uncle Reiss, can't you see he's using you!" Michael screams, grabbing the collar of his uncle's jacket. "He's going to kill you, even if he says he isn't! Take my word for it! He'll kill us all!"

"Now, now, Mike," Marco intervenes, pulling him away from Reiss. "I know you hate the world, 'cause your family died. But come on! Don't go takin' it out on your lovely uncle!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Michael growls, standing directly opposite Marco. He squares his shoulders, in attempt to seem tougher, but I can tell by the way his hands are shaking that he's petrified. "The police are going to find you, and when they do, they're going to get you! They'll never let you out of prison ever again!"

"You reckon?" Marco interrogates, before pausing a moment, as he pretends to think. "Nah; I think I'm good. They'll never find me. I'll be gone before they even knew I was here."

"Really?" Clover chimes in, before turning around and making a dash for the hallway – where the telephone is kept.

Marco follows after her, slapping the phone from her hand. "Don't—do—anything."

Clover moves her eyes to me in fright. Deciding that I want nobody to die today, I shake my head at her, gesturing for her to leave the phone alone. She nods in understanding, slowly walking back to the living room. Whilst this is happening, I see Reiss whisper something into Michael's ear, and Michael widens his eyes. Whether he's doing this in relief, or fear, I can't tell. He's unreadable right now.

"Marco, before you become too confident about your little escape plan," Michael starts, pacing slowly towards him, "I'd like to point out that any one of us can go to the police with evidence that you're behind my family's deaths."

"What proof do you have!" Marco laughs, folding his arms. "What could you possibly have that proves I did anything!"

"Conversations," Michael answers, in a nutshell. "And that's enough to prove everything."

Marco's eyes widen, and dart to Reiss in anger. "You taped our conversations?" he hisses in fury.

Reiss says nothing; he just simply smirks. Michael places his hand in his pocket, before withdrawing it to reveal – in his palm – a tape. He keeps it out long enough for Marco to see, before sliding it back into his pocket.

"Give me that tape," Marco commands, facing Michael off. "Don't make me ask twice."

"Or what?" Michael retorts through gritted teeth, his nostrils flaring.

"Don't make me have to hurt you." Marco brings his head closer to Michael's; so much so, that their noses almost touch.

Michael shoots him a glare through half-lidded eyes. "Hurting me would only give more proof of the vile, disgusting creature you already are."

To this, Marco doesn't respond immediately. He simply nods in understanding, clapping slowly at Michael's confidence. "Fair point; fair point." He then slowly makes his way to the front door. "I guess I'll leave you all alone for now, then."

There's no way it's as simple as that. He isn't just going to leave in the blink of an eye. Based on what I know about Marco, he isn't one to give up that easily. Michael, however, seems to be a little more naïve.

"Good riddance." He pushes Marco towards the front door, and opens it. However, before he can push him outside, he hesitates – for a reason I'm unsure about.

Moments later, I see him walking backwards into the living room, with Marco pushing him instead. The other thing I don't fail to notice, is the gun that's pressed to his temple.

"Oh my God!" Clover gasps. But, choosing not to risk her own life, or anyone else's, she doesn't try to prise the gun away. None of us do.

"Pull the gun away!" I cry, tears building up in my eyes by now. "Pull the gun away from his head, now!"

Marco smirks once more. "No chance. I got him right where I want him, now." His arm reaches into Michael's pocket, in attempt to grab a hold of the tape. "Now, if you'll just let me take that lovely tape, nobody will get hurt."

"No!" Michael cries. "I'd rather die than let you walk free!"

"Michael!" I scream, completely disagreeing with what he just said. "Don't! Just give it to him! You aren't dying today!"

"I think he will be," Marco corrects me, resting his forefinger over the trigger of the gun. "That's unless he gives me the tape."

"I would rather you shoot me, and let me die in my own cold blood," Michael tells him, once again through gritted teeth. "There is no way you are getting this tape. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Not ever. I am not backing down. My family comes first."

"Your family is dead," Marco reminds him. "Remember? They all died! Best day of my life!"

"Don't dare talk about my family that way," Michael growls. From where I'm standing, it's easy to see beads of sweat clustered on his forehead, and dripping down his face.

"And why? They can't hear me. They're rotting corpses now. Don't even know of my existence."

Without thinking, Michael raises his arm, and smacks Marco harshly around the face. Marco jars from the impact, parting his lips to breathe. He uses his free hand to touch the area he was just slapped in, and judging by the slight shake in his fingers, it stings. Tears form in his eyes from the pain, but he quickly blinks them back, and wheezily chuckles.

"That wasn't smart," he asserts, setting the gun ready to shoot. "I'm going to give you one final chance." He looks down at Michael, a serious expression forming on his disgusting features. "Tape, now. Otherwise you die."

"Leave him alone!" Reiss suddenly shouts. "Don't dare touch my nephew!"

"Yeah; come on, Marco! Leave Michael alone!" Clover adds, moving closer to the pair. This time, she tries to move the gun away – though being cautious not to trigger it.

"Hands off, little slimeball!" Marco commands angrily, now fighting with Clover. He then slashes his hand across her cheek, causing her to tumble backwards from the impact.

Now, Reiss and myself move forward to try and intervene.

And under the mass of shouting, screaming, demanding, crying and fighting, the worst outcome occurs.

BANG!

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Plot twist! 😱

My question to you is, what did the shot do? Did nobody get shot, or did somebody get shot?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)