The Crazed Candy Cane Killer

Chapter One: Ghost Stories

He didn't always hate christmas, it's true. Ever since he was a small boy he loved christmas. He loved the lights and the music, whenever the children from the church went around the neighborhood and knocked on his door he would sing along with them and he was sad when they had to go to the next house, almost jealous even.

"You always seem so sad when they leave Harold," a voice from the kitchen said.

"I am sad," Harold replied.

The voice from the kitchen was Harold's mother. The 38 year old divorced widow was making stove top stuffing with an array of different fruits and vegetables getting ready to be sliced into tiny little pieces. The vegetables were going to be steamed and put in a soup while the fruits were going into a juicer. All the leftover fruits were dried out and placed in medium sized plastic bags and put in the freezer. With all the food she was making you would think she was preparing for a party or the apocalypse.

Harold sat down in the living room and turned on some Sunday night cartoons. Harold Fisher, a  fourteen year old squeamish boy at the time had given up his brain to the mindless rambling of whatever cartoon he was watching.

Harold was a bright kid. He never actually watched TV, but you would never know that just by looking at him. Staring blankly at the colorful moving pixels that formed into human like things on the TV, what he was really doing was going to his own world. The kid knew the true meaning of escapism he would be daydreaming for hours on end if the sound of his mother's voice wasn't the smooth, silky, goddess like voice that it was.

"Harold honey. It's time for dinner," his mother called out to him.

"Be right there!" he called back.

"Don't forget to wash your hands. And it's your turn for prayer tonight."

Prayer, the one and only thing he didn't like about christmas. Now don't get confused Harold Fisher was born and raised a good christian boy and never had a problem with prayer until the death of his father. The reverend Jacob Fisher, that was his name. The most respected and feared person in the relatively small town of Cruger Mississippi coming in at a population of a whooping 350 people. So it wasn't that hard to become the most respected and feared person among a group of people that wouldn't even fill the 500 seats of broadway with his crazy evangelical bible thumping bullshit.

The man was a hypocrite, and a lier who was so good at doing so he might as well have been on broadway starring in the new hit musical "family of three and the hooker next door" Harold Fisher's father had been cheating on his wife Jane Elizabeth Fisher, with so many women, for the entirety of their 18 year marriage. When Jane Elizabeth Fisher found out about her husband's infidelity she dropped the fucker like a hot rock. And threw her wedding band at his face hitting him directly in the eye. She kept the diamond ring with a 24 carat gold ring band and told him that she might sell it and buy a new house. This hit Reverend Jacob Fisher hard because not only was the ring that she spoke of was his mothers ring before Jane's and his mother's mother before hers but so was the house they lived in as well.

"You fucking bitch!" he screamed at her "do you have any idea how old and

sacred that ring and this home is!?"

"I have some idea," she said.

"Then why, why would you do such a sinful thing in the eyes of god? What do you hope to gain by destroying my good name?"

"Good name!?" she exclaimed.

Jane was so taken back and enraged by the amount of juxtaposition in the words he was saying all she could do was scream in anger.