Black Christmas

Chapter 21

For the second time that night, Greg is awakened by Jerry's words. "We've won."

Greg gets up and pulls the bloody Rudolph mask off of Santa's lifeless face. He displays it to Jerry. "Tonight, there are no winners."

Knowing he isn't wrong, Jerry does not respond. Instead, he pats Greg on the shoulder that doesn't have a knife piercing his skin, and gives him a nonverbal congratulation.

Then, Jerry sees something sticking out of the fallen icon's coat pocket. He pulls it out to see that it's in fact a letter, and appears to be written by S.C. himself.

Knowing who's earned the right to see the letter first, he hands it straight to Greg, who starts reading. Unbelievably, he finds that the letter was actually written to him.

Gregory,

I knew if there was anyone that could stop me and end up with this letter, it would be you.

I know you must be confused. Ho ho ho, who wouldn't be? Santa Claus himself has just staged a genocide. Who the hell saw that coming?

Anyway, I'm sure you've spoken to Frost. I'm sure he gave you some good advice, but he's still a crazy asshole. He doesn't know me like you do.

Gregory, you were always my right-hand man. Does a simple crime on my part change that? I think not. Underneath all this bloodshed lies the same working relationship we already had. You're my assistant, and you'd do anything for me. Because I'm dead doesn't prevent that, now does it?

I know you're not sane, Gregory. I know it doesn't take a lot to make you snap. And I'm willing to bet that killing me was enough. After all, staying sane is like walking a tight rope. I warned you earlier. Now have you been pushed off?

A stone cold expression remains on Greg's face as he tears up the letter Santa's left him. Jerry watches as he suddenly begins laughing.

"Are you okay, Greg?"

Greg doesn't answer. He won't cease the laughter, and Jerry can't place exactly what it is. It's not happiness, relief, or nervousness, so what could it be?

"Greg. What the fuck was in that letter?"

Unbeknownst to him, that was the last question he would ever ask. He looks down to see that the knife that was once through Greg's shoulder is now straight through his heart. As Greg removes the weapon, blood gushes and the life drains from Jerry's body.

Greg doesn't speak. He's the only one alive in the room; there's no need for words anyway. Slowly and carefully, he takes off Santa's coat and puts it on himself. He picks up the Rudolph mask he'd dropped and puts it over his now psychopathic face.

Exiting through the chimney, he climbs silently into the reindeer-drawn sleigh and orders the takeoff. He heads west with one goal in mind: finishing the job that his boss had begun.