'Papa charismas'

that's what all the neighborhood kids called him now. He didn't understand why apart from the fact that he would pass out gift cards to everyone in the neighborhood. He hated the name. It reminded him of a warm and fatherly old man who looked after all the children. He owned a tiny farm not far from the town and lived in the quite side of the neighborhood.

He lifted his gloved hand out to the falling snow and unknowingly increased his pace when he thought of her. There was a tight feeling in his chest that made his mind race.

'If you were so worried you should have looked after her yourself' even hours later the words still rung in his head, audible among the backround noices going on inhis head. He still wasn't sure why he had lost his temper the way he did or why he had killed the chairmen like that. 'This isn't like me' - he thought.

He walked through the quite and empty streets of Rainsville wearing his somewhat tattered suit from the ball of the previous night and the signature red clock of the baskerviles draped around him. His ear was down and somewhat bloody like his face but he didn't mind. The houses decorated with charismas lights together with the peaceful street put his racing mind somewhat at ease.

He wasn't used to it being so peaceful or quite, and so he was somewhat off-put by this. He realized It wasn't often he visited. Finally standing in front of the house, the tight feeling increased. His thoughts becoming more and more jumbled and frantic when he saw that the house looked...off. He knocked urgently now at the front door glancing at the little cellar window now and again. Faint noises could be heard from just inside. ...he froze entirely when he thought he heard sobbing from

inside. His trial of thoughts were cut of when the old man opened the door. It was a raggedy looking old man with a beard and combed hair, a fair bit oversized but still fit for his age. Visible panic was written all over his face but he gulped and stepped aside without a word. Vincent let himself in, aware of the man following him

into the cellar and then the basement. The path to the cellar was a small one, with half of it below ground. He halted in front of the door and within seconds Barma had its scythe at his throat. He gulped, sweating buckets and falling the floor with a loud thump. All while Vincent didn't move a muscle.

"Where is she?"
"The family was out and we forgot to unlock the basement door for her so she could leave!" he spoke through sobs. Something building beneath the surface was starting to resurface. He was wide eyed as he began to connect the dots. He busted open the door and rushed inside. The bed...the hay covering the floor in

layers - even the walls had been cleaned up. But what really caught his eye was the layers of ice beneath it, and the blood and puss just beside her bed and trailing away form the drained window. "What is this?"
"It was a cobra. If it wasn't the poison then it must have been..." he went silent when he saw something. He inched closer to the straces on the wall and traced his fingures over them The old farmer traced his gaze followed him and his lips quivered but he didn't say anything - As if he were chocking on them.

_**I am tired. So marry charismas father. I hope you stop crying alone.**_**_I forgive you. _**

"We couldn't bring ourselves to wash it out of the wall before you saw it." In seconds, his head was decapitated with one swing from Barma. "DIE RIGHT NOW!" A voice so lin to his yelled bloody murder. He blacked out. It was a mix of so much hurt and pain that muffled his senses and made the voices in his head that much louder.

'I'll never see her again?' no matter how may time she repeated it in his head it didn't sit well with him at all.
"She's alive!" the words managed to snap him out of it. He opened his eyes to see himself standing in front of the petrified old woman clutching her baby boys.
"We put her in the bathroom and washed of the wound! She's alive!"

"Then why-" he was cut of.

"He hated her. He wanted to prove to her that you weren't coming. She's alive!" she pleaded franticly.

the woman's urgent yelling helped save her life that day. He trudged to the bathroom, hesitating for a moment when he heard a cough from inside and slammed the door open.

"It hurts." he heard a feeble voice say from inside. There she was. Hhi heart felt a fair bit lighter then before, and his chest less tight. Her legs had been lifted a up above the bathtub, wrapped in tight bandages. He felt her forehead which was burning and took a quick look at her leg before he came to the conclusion that she had nearly escaped death. He lifted her in his arms and out the door, wrapping her in his cloak.

She wasn't speaking or moving much unless she was spoke and asked to. Rather, she looked tired. More so then he'd expected.

In the carriage, she sat leaning on the window, gazing out at the forest. He watched keenly as her interest was peeked when they past a particular part of the forest.

"What's wrong?" she paused for a moment and then sat back again.

"Nothing." and then he noticed something else. Blood had begun to drip down her temple as she fell asleep soundly. It was then that he realized what a mess she was. She was only wearing a summers dress in this could weather and just under her skirt he thought he could see some strange symbol.