The snow was slowly falling outside your house as you settled into a comfortable position on the sofa next to Evan, your boyfriend. Spending Christmas Eve with your partner was special, and you wanted to make the most of this moment.

Everything was perfect as you lost yourself in the comfort of Evan's arms, eating popcorn and watching a Christmas movie together. But then things started to go wrong, all because of that damn knock on the door that would completely ruin the moment. You let out a frustrated sigh, lazily resting your body on the arm of the sofa as you watched your boyfriend get up and walk toward the entrance, saying he would check it out.

Minutes passed before you could hear a strange noise coming from the entrance, like something falling. Your body froze in fear, and a feeling that something had happened to Evan made your heart race wildly in your chest. You got up from the sofa and walked slowly and silently toward the entrance, illuminated by the night light filtering through the windows of your house.

Your breathing became shorter as you crept through the house like a frightened animal, heading toward the source of the sound. Your feet stopped when you saw your boyfriend on the floor, with a dark silhouette looming over his lifeless body. The scene was indescribably horrifying and bloody: the axe brutally buried in Evan's chest, the repulsive smell of fresh blood making your stomach churn, your boyfriend's empty dark pupils, and the killer there, hands gripping the wooden handle of the axe while looking at you with their mask splattered with human blood.

You slowly backed away, your hand clutching the shirt covering your chest as you looked at that situation in disbelief. You didn't want to accept the painful truth that the person you loved had been so cruelly murdered and that you would probably be next. You needed to run, to escape before it was too late; so you did. You ran desperately for your survival, and perhaps that was your worst mistake. Before you could get much further, large hands grabbed you by the shoulders, and you fell like a shot bird to the ground, miserably. You struggled desperately, trying to fight free from the grip of that relatively strong stranger but with no success at all. This was your end; you were going to die painfully at the hands of Evan's killer. The vision of your boyfriend's dead eyes came to your mind like a haunting reminder, and hot tears streamed down your face as warm breath behind your predator's mask pierced your neck. Everything seemed lost, and you could see your end approaching when suddenly, the stranger's hand began to slide from your shoulder to your waist, digging fingertips into your skin while threateningly promising to cut off your limbs with the axe if you screamed.