1
Holiday Hollow was drenched in a winter wonderland.
Snowmen littered the sidewalks, some dressed in characteristic top hats and others completely bare – besides the traditional orange carrot, of course. String lights hung between the stop lights and lampposts, connecting the main streets shops. Trees decorated the windows of small shops, their tops adorned with a glittering yellow star. Alongside all of the Christmas decorations, the cozy town had received a deep layer of dusty snow, bringing all of Holiday Hollow to a suddenquiet.
The untouched snow covered every possible spot. It was a pearly shade of white, unblemished from any wandering feet or stray specks of dirt. And as the sun reflected off the snow, casting an ethereal glow across all of Holiday Hollow, something sinister began to invade the Christmas spirit. No longer did the flicking lights lead the way. No longer was the silence comforting, or familiar. The blinding white snow began to lose its angelic hue as an inky river of scarlet crept down the empty street. The river continued till it felt as though every possible inch of joy and happiness of the Christmas spirit had been infected by it.
Red coursed through Holiday Hollow.
Not red like a ripe cherry. Not red like Santa Claus’s round belly.
Scarletred. Like blood.
Grace Baker shot up from her bed, sticky and shivering. Sweat lined her brow and the back of her neck, and the cold air creeping through the walls almost froze every bead of it. Grace instinctively grasped at her quilt, which had been shoved to the foot of the bed during her restless sleep, and jerked it back over herself, till she was entirely enveloped by it. Even with the comfort of her thick quilt, Grace’s limbs shook and trembled with the memories of her vision.
Since Halloween, the same vision had been plaguing Grace. Though she was still new to the whole ‘psychic’ business, there was one gut instinct that told her it was far from a good thing. It was only a few weeks until Christmas, and the vision stuck with her like a memory, even if it hadn’t happened yet. Snow started to cascade over Holiday Hollow at the end of November, and while Grace normally thought the winter weather to be somewhat of a blessing, it only rang as a sign of bad things to come.
Grace glanced toward her window. The blinking red, blue, and green lights cast a faint glow across the bedroom as thick flakes of pearly snow fell from the sky. There was a miniature tree standing on the windowsill, fully decorated with tiny ornaments and even smaller lights. She stared at it until the feeling of death no longer clung to her chest, until she could remember that she was safe – at least for now. Besides, there weren’t any indications in the vision as to who it applied to. Ever since it first hit her at Lucky’s Diner all those weeks ago, Grace spent hours trying to deduce what was being shown to her. But whenever she dared to look too hard, the vision crept out of her grasp, as though it wasn’t even hers to look into.
Grace released a hefty sigh. Eventually she would get the whole hang of things, when it came to her newfound abilities. Everything else in Holiday Hollow was going smoothly. The Lantern House remained her sanctuary, even when the late hours beckoned for the familiar ghost to creep across the lake, before disappearing entirely. Her days were kept occupied by spending time with the women she readily called her closest friends, and when they were unavailable, Grace had her own responsibilities to upkeep.
Throwing the quilt off of her, Grace tumbled out of bed with a yawn and a stretch. At her nightstand, right beside a framed photograph of her and the ladies, was her consultant badge for the Holiday Hollow Police Department. Though it wasn’t at all like the sleek badge Bryant liked to flash every now and then, it made Grace’s place in the town feel all the more official, all the morereal.She was needed, even if it was in a way she never expected.
Grace lifted the badge and the light glinted off it. “‘Grace Baker,’” she read aloud. “‘Psychic Consultant.’” Even saying it aloud pulled a laugh out of her chest. Lowering the badge back onto the nightstand, she moved to get herself ready for the day.
As the weather got colder in Holiday Hollow, Grace found herself realizing that winter was probably her favorite season. What was more magical than a first snowfall, especially when it was untainted by spilled blood? Not only that, but who could deny the beauty of catching snowflakes? Grace remained amazed for all her life as to how unique the flakes looked, how they were never the same, how she caught them on her tongue and felt like she was swallowing the purest drops of magic. No matter what age she was, Grace wasalwaysthe first to play in the snow.
Not only that, but theclotheswere to die for.Grace pulled a baby blue sweater over a simple long sleeve, before tuggingon a pair of coffee brown corduroy trousers. There was nothing better than sweaters and cardigans and shawls and hats. Though Grace was also a victim to flappy ear muffs and the widest puffer jackets known to man while growing up. But as an adult? Nothing could beat the thrill of finally being able to wear winter clothes.
As Grace made her way downstairs, the sun lit up every corner of The Lantern House. The Christmas decorations filled all of the rooms, as though the holiday spirit was following her wherever she went. A shiver rolled down her spine as she eyed the fireplace, eager to get some sort of warmth rolling through the living room, but unable to do anything sane till she had a cup of coffee in her hand. Reduced to shivering, Grace scurried to the kitchen, filling the pot with water before pouring it into the machine. After scooping in her coffee grounds, Grace eagerly punched the button and snagged a pair of coffee cups.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Grace glanced up at the grandfather clock, one brow raised as she crossed the kitchen to the back door. It led out into the yard, which then had a winding trail down to the small port at the edge of the lake. While her old routine was to take her coffee onto the back porch, the cooler weather forced her to have her mornings inside.
“You’re late,” she said as she opened the door. A gust of cold air, and a spray of fallen snow, shot into the kitchen, almost turning Grace into a statue of unmelting ice.
Bryant slipped by her, not daring to waste another second out in the freezing weather. There was a light dusting of snow on his shoulders as he removed his thick coat, carefully hanging it on the rack beside the door. He was dressed in just as many layers as Grace was, with another jacket on below his coat. Snowflakes clung to his beard and spikey hair as he quickly sought relief from the weather within the Lantern House.
“Late?” he repeated, eyeing the grandfather clock in the same way she did before. “Barely.” Bryant’s graze drifted to the coffee machine, which hadn’t finished dripping yet. A smirk crept across his lips. “Youwere late first, weren’t you?”
“This is my house, Bryant. I can’t be late to coffee in my own house.”
He nodded to the coffee. “Youarelate. It would be finished brewing by now if you weren’t late.”
Grace glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes, though a toothy grin was beginning to overshadow her annoyance. “Alright, alright. You win. I…” the words trailed off when the vision came raging back to her, threatening to overtake her thoughts once more. Grace shook her head and it quickly faded, though Bryant hadn’t missed the fleeting look in her eye. “I overslept.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
She turned to the coffee pot right when the machine released a beep, a fine curl of steam coming from the top.Saved by the bell.Grace quickly went to pour the dark liquid into the matching mugs, turning to the fridge to collect her bottle of cream. As she went to turn back around, she jumped a foot in the air, seeing Bryant looming over her.
“Sorry.” Bryant’s brow furrowed as he stared. “You’ll tell me if you want to talk about it, right?”
No matter how long Grace had been living in Holiday Hollow, she doubted she would ever get used to being treated in such a thoughtful way. She couldn’t remember a time when her ex-husband cared that much about her well-being. With Chuck it was always about appearances. The moment Grace was looking unkempt, even the slightest bit down, he would be on her like white on rice.Show teeth, Gracie,he would say.The world loves to see a pretty lady smiling, not frowning.
“I will,” Grace finally said.
Bryant gave her a firm nod and took the cream from her grasp, continuing on to pour a slight stream in both of their cups. Their routine had become practically second nature by that point. Grace thought herself to be the only one enraptured by their mornings together, but it was obvious that Bryant was as much as involved as she was. He grasped his mug and left the kitchen, turning to the quiet fireplace. Without even uttering a word, he went on to throw logs of wood into the hearth, already beginning to stoke a quiet flame.
