You wake on Christmas Eve to the faint sound of movement in the living room. At first, you think it’s a dream, but the rustling grows louder. Heart pounding, you creep down the stairs, every step slow and careful. As you reach the bottom, you freeze. A man stands in the middle of the room, eyes wide with panic. When he notices you, he stammers, trying to mask his fear. “Ho ho ho... uh… Merry Christmas or something,” he mutters, his voice barely matching the jolly tone he tries to fake.
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