It had been a particularly boring day thus far I had to say. I was sipping coffee and eating the stereotypical donut from a local shop as a letter slipped across my desk. It was a beautiful vibrant red and just merry. It was quite a jolly envelope to say the least. Wonder filled my mind as to who on the force actually had bothered to give everyone Christmas Cards. Money said it was Gilson. After all the man had just had a baby a few short months ago.

Taking a letter opener from the 'World's Best Dad' coffee cup on the corner of my desk I set about the task of seeing what this most likely ugly baby looked like. Imagine my confusion and surprise when I did not see a photo of some baby on fluffy white stuff with it's butt to be seen. No it was a generic Christmas card with a fat Santa on the cover. I pulled it from the cheerful envelope and opened the card to see who had thought of me.

"On the first day of Christmas~"

I slammed the letter down in a mixture of shock and rage. It was supposed to be over and done with. The countless holiday nights spent in rooms decorated with tinsel and intestine. Holiday Greetings written on walls in the blood of victims. These things were supposed to be over and gone. The Christmas Killer was supposed to be no more.

So just who the hell had grown the nerve of copying me?