Oliver hates Christmas. He hates the fakery of it, the false joy that lifts everyone’s spirits. But only momentarily, only until the next box is opened, until the next piece of paper is torn away. But he is a true bringer of joy. In taking their lives, he is the giver of ultimate pleasure; and what better gift could there be for the Holidays than eternal bliss?
But this year is special. This year is 12.
Every year, for eleven years, Oliver has chosen twelve people, one person for each of the twelve days of Christmas. This year is 12. The final year. This year is personal. This is the year of the 12, payment for all of Oliver’s hard work. And he intends to collect. Eleven victims have already fallen-and Oliver has saved the best for last.
Merry Freaking Christmas. This year, there will be blood.
Genre: Horror
But this year is special. This year is 12.
Every year, for eleven years, Oliver has chosen twelve people, one person for each of the twelve days of Christmas. This year is 12. The final year. This year is personal. This is the year of the 12, payment for all of Oliver’s hard work. And he intends to collect. Eleven victims have already fallen-and Oliver has saved the best for last.
Merry Freaking Christmas. This year, there will be blood.
Genre: Horror
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