The Seven Deadly Sins of Christmas

Prompt Day #164: Give a malevolent gift.

What perfect timing for this prompt and for me to give you, my precious readers, a special Christmas gift. I am going to serialize this particular story into seven parts, ending on Christmas eve. This of course means that there will be two stories every day for the next seven…if I can pull this off of course.


The Seven Deadly Sins of Christmas

On the first day of Karmas


Have you ever noticed that the Christmas season brings out the worst in everyone? No matter how happy I am when I leave the house, inevitably I end up loathing mankind by the time I get home. So this year, I have decided to give a gift to myself; I’m going to celebrate the last seven days before Christmas by killing someone each day.

I’ve always wanted to be a serial killer. I’ve spent a number of afternoons in the midst of satisfied daydreams planning what would be my signature or theme as it were. All of history’s greatest killers had one. The zodiac, The Son of Sam. So, maybe I could be the Christmas Killer. I spent Black Friday in the mall, people watching, trying to think of ways I could creatively kill twelve people using the famous song. I could leave gift tags signed From Your True Love. I walked that mall all day, bumping into crazed women and angry men, trying to imagine how I could design a clever tableau symbolizing French hens and golden rings.

I ended up in an FYE store digging through their bargain bin of DVDs and found that old movie with Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman; se7en and it hit me. Look at these people, every one of them could easily be classified under one of those sins. Santa keeps track of good little children and he rewards them. I would be Karmas, keeping track of the naughty grown-ups and punishing them for their sins. Surely I could come up with seven special presents to leave for my seven chosen victims.

I would need to choose my victims carefully. I wanted to pick someone who would epitomize that sin. I wanted each death to be at the same time unique and mysterious but also easy enough for the media to pick up on and get excited about. I wanted the public tuning in every day to see what I did next, guessing what present I left for them this time. I wanted everyone to be on their best behavior this year, fearful not of Santa’s naughty list but of the wrath of Karmas.

On December 18, I chose my first victim. Rev. Bartholomew’s wife, Anna. Anna was a self-proclaimed judge, jury and executioner. She believed she spoke for God and interpreted his word and her translation was literally gospel. Everything “good” that woman ever did was to showcase herself. She met and prayed with jailed child molesters and rapists and protested outside abortion clinics, calling their victims whores and murderers. This was my understanding of the sin of Pride; the holier than thou attitude. She rode a very high horse. I decided to build her a special horse to ride well above the rest of the town. I built her a wooden gift horse. A medieval torture device consisting of a vertical wooden board with a sharp V-wedge on top of it.

Kidnapping her as she left the church was no problem. I drugged her, so stripping her naked and sitting her on the wedge, her arms tied behind her and cement blocks tied dangling from her feet was not a problem. Doing it in the pitch blackness on the church front lawn was a bit more challenging. I couldn’t see how far the wedge had split her. I had to put a bit in her mouth to keep her from screaming and then I had to strangle her to death too because she would not be quiet. Even the sounds of her pelvis splitting in two was loud enough to wake the neighborhood. I stopped adding blocks once her intestines draped down either side of the wedge which was now at the level of her diaphragm.

I wrote things on the blocks; things like Homosexuals and Pregnant teens, all the things she looked down on, the people she judged from her high point. It was good for a first start and the media got it right away. Although they didn’t connect it to the seven deadly sins just then. But I had six more days before Christmas, there was plenty of time for them to learn, to learn and to repent.