08 Dec The Prince of Winter Hollow

You’d think by now, with Christmas rolling around every damn year like clockwork, I’d be numb to it. But Winter Hollow? This town doesn’t just do Christmas. It breeds it, multiplies it like rabbits hopped up on peppermint schnapps.

We’ve got trees on every corner, every porch, in every store, and inside each damn window like they’re squatters. The gas station has a tree by the windshield washer station. The library has seven, one for each genre section. The public restroom down by the park? Guess what. Tree.

Yeah. That’s where I live.

Anyway, this story kicks off around our annual Winter Hollow Tree Lighting Ceremony—a way for the town to show off that, yes, we somehow found even more Christmas trees than last year. We take Christmas so seriously around here that even Santa would need counseling after New Year’s.

I’m Gabe, and if you ask me, this town has more holiday cheer than common sense. But hey, we gotta make our mark on the map somehow. Which brings us to…the Prince.

The guy showed up out of nowhere—Prince Stefan of Veldenmark—because, of course, that’s his name. He had that whole “charm offensive” thing going: a perfect smile, a European accent you couldn’t quite place, and this way of tilting his head just enough to make people weak in the knees. I mean, come on, it’s like the guy was genetically engineered to star in a Hallmark movie.

The official story was that he was visiting not for business, but for “pleasure.” Yeah. Right. A literal prince, taking a vacation in Winter Hollow, of all places. You expect me to believe royalty wants to spend the holiday in a town that reeks of eggnog and despair? But, whatever—you know the drill. People around here ate it up like it was a mistletoe-laden rom-com come to life.

Then there’s Holly. Yeah, her name’s really Holly. Go figure. She works at the bakery, and I swear to you, she’s got a tragic backstory so stereotypical it should be copyrighted. Dead parent, check. Secret artistic dreams, check. Utterly oblivious to red flags, double-check.

Naturally, Prince Stefan and Holly met at the Christmas tree lot, because that’s where all great romances are born—surrounded by overpriced pines and the scent of hot cocoa. I was there too, helping out, and let me tell you: that’s when things got weird.

Holly had just picked out a seven-foot-tall blue spruce when disaster struck. One of the workers had stacked far too many trees against a flimsy wooden barrier, and as Holly strolled past, the whole display groaned under the weight, swaying ominously.

I barely had time to shout, “Holly, move!” before the trees toppled like dominoes, and the biggest one—a nine-foot-tall beast of a pine—toppled over, heading straight for her.

That’s when Stefan stepped in.

In one fluid motion, the prince caught the falling tree with a single hand, his arm rigid. The whole damn pine stopped mid-fall, suspended above Holly like it weighed nothing. At the same time, Stefan’s other hand slid smoothly around Holly’s waist, pulling her close and dipping her into a ballroom-style dance position. I nearly slow-clapped.

There they were—Holly, draped backward over Stefan’s arm, her face mere inches from his, her eyes wide first with surprise, then adoration. He gazed down at her, a slow smile curling on his lips as if they were the only two people in the world.

For a second, I swear the snow around them glistened, as if on command. Christmas music wafted gently through the evergreen-scented air, and I’ll be honest; I half-expected a choir of angels to descend. Stefan was no ordinary man—no, no. He was a walking Instagram filter.

“You’re safe now,” Stefan purred, his voice low and velvety.

Holly blinked up at him and swooned. Her knees buckled, but Stefan held her steady, his hand firm at the small of her back. They stayed like that for a moment—just long enough to make the rest of us standing there feel like extras in someone else’s love story.

I scoffed, rolled my eyes, and muttered to myself, “Classic.”

* * * * * *

After that, things happened fast. Stefan helped Holly stand upright, still holding her hand like a chivalrous knight in a storybook. She blushed, stammering thank-yous while tucking her hair behind her ear like a lovestruck teen.

And Stefan? He didn’t even break a sweat. He just displayed that perfect smile of his, the one that looked like it belonged on the cover of a romance novel.

“You really saved me,” Holly whispered, still dazed.

“It was nothing, my dear,” Stefan replied with a modest shrug, as if catching falling trees and dipping damsels were part of his daily routine.

I stood there in disbelief, hands jammed in my jacket pockets, watching the whole thing unfold like a cynical audience member trapped in a holiday special I never asked to see. Winter Hollow may be out of its mind, but this was on an entirely different level. Holly and Stefan had bonded over cocoa and a well-timed near-death experience. I mean, come on. It was too perfect—suspiciously so. But no one else seemed to notice anything weird. Not yet, anyway.

Unfortunately for me, that was just the start of it. Stefan and Holly were virtually inseparable after her brush with the afterlife—holding hands at the first of several annual tree lighting ceremonies, ice skating together, and sipping double mocha lattes at the Winter Market. It was like a picture-perfect romance unfolding in real-time. The townsfolk were smitten, too. I mean, everyone in Winter Hollow couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful it was to have a real prince in town and how blessed Holly was.

I, on the other hand, was getting uneasy. Stefan was too perfect. And the trees—don’t get me started on the trees. Winter Hollow was already hopelessly addicted and probably needed an intervention, but it got worse. So much worse.

Wherever Stefan went, trees seemed to follow. They kept showing up in weirder and weirder places. He’d take a place with Holly down Main Street, and the next thing you know, there’s a sapling in the middle of the road. The two would get together for a date and admire someone’s Christmas lights, and suddenly, there’s a fully-grown pine outside that family’s kitchen window, blocking the view. When I made the mistake of pointing out that these trees weren’t there before, my neighbors looked at me like I’d just offered them a glass of bleach.

By the third day, things got even more bizarre. I started to notice icy runes carved into the trunks of some of the newer trees, symbols so frigid that they gave me a chill, even through my gloves, when I ran my fingers over them. I pointed them out to Holly, but she just rolled her eyes and told me I needed to switch to decaf. When I went back later to get a closer look, the sigils were gone.

* * * * * *

It all built up to the night of the Winter Hollow Gala, the biggest of our town’s three-dozen holiday events. This year, as is tradition, it was being held at the old inn on the edge of town—the one that, fun fact, used to be a morgue. Because everyone knows that a venue capable of holding dozens of bodies lying down can fit far more people standing up. It’s a numbers game, folks.

I’ll give credit where credit’s due—Stefan really pulled out all the stops. The place was decked out floor to ceiling with ornate, decorated Christmas trees. It looked like a forest had puked in there. I counted at least a dozen trees in the foyer alone.

As I looked around, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “This place has more trees than brain cells,” I whispered to myself, trying to keep my growing unease in check. Every time I turned around, I swear there were more.

People were laughing, drinking spiked eggnog, and twirling on the dance floor like extras in a holiday special. Amidst the crowd, Stefan and Holly twirled and swayed, glowing in the soft light of the chandeliers. But the longer I watched, the more I realized… something was seriously wrong.

The gala had that over-the-top Christmas magic everyone around here seemed to crave. Glittering lights, a band playing something festive with sleigh bells, and, of course, more trees than a lumberjack’s fever dream. As Stefan and Holly danced in the center of the room, they looked exactly like the embodiment of couple goals. Everyone was smiling, caught up in the fairy tale moment. Everyone, that is, except me.

Something about Stefan was undeniably off. He glided across the floor effortlessly, like he was… floating. And his eyes—normally bright and cheerful—seemed sharper tonight, almost too vivid. Every time he looked at Holly, his gaze lingered a second too long, like he was observing her with some strange, unspoken hunger.

I was about to brush it off as my usual cynicism when something else caught my attention. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the trees in the room weren’t stationary. They were… moving. That’s impossible, I told myself, thinking there must be some other explanation. And yet, as I watched, their branches seemed to sway ever so slightly, though there wasn’t a single draft in the room. I took a step closer to one of them, squinting at the branches to ensure I wasn’t seeing things.

That’s when I saw it—a faint shimmer around its trunk, like a ghostly frost. And if you looked just right, there was a face in the bark. It was faint, almost like a reflection, but unmistakably human.

Had anyone else noticed this? I wondered.

I glanced around, but everyone else was still laughing and drinking, oblivious to the fact that we were surrounded.

Surrounded by… whatever these things were.

Meanwhile, Stefan leaned down and whispered something in Holly’s ear, eliciting a giggle. He dipped her low, their faces so close they could have swapped gum without touching, and she looked at him with such dazed adoration I almost felt sorry for her.

He lifted her back up, still holding her close, and as she looked away to blush, his gaze shifted—to me. Our eyes met, and his face transformed; the light in his eyes dimmed, the lines of his face went rigid, and his mouth twisted into a grin that could chill an igloo. For a split second, the prince’s mask slipped—and I saw the real Stefan.

I froze. In that instant, it was obvious. He knew that I knew.

I forced myself to look away, pretending to be just another guest caught up in the Christmas cheer. But my mind was racing. Stefan wasn’t just some charming foreign prince on vacation. He was dangerous.

* * * * * *

The rest of the evening was a blur. I kept my distance, watching Stefan and Holly from the edges of the crowd, doing my best to stay inconspicuous. I tried to approach a few people, pointing out the strange shimmer around the trees, but they either brushed me off or laughed. I felt like I was losing my mind.

At one point, I stumbled into the hallway near the bathrooms, needing a break from the noise and the sight of those accursed trees. I leaned against the wall, trying to calm down, when I noticed something strange—at the far end of the hallway, a door I’d never seen before was ajar. A faint blue glow seeped out from the crack.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I made my way over and pushed the door open. Inside was a room lined with old, dust-covered mirrors. They stretched from floor to ceiling, surrounding a massive Christmas tree in the center of the room. But this tree was… wrong. Its needles were a dark, sickly green, almost black, and icy blue runes glowed faintly along the branches.

I stepped closer, drawn by some strange compulsion, and that’s when I saw them. Faces. Not reflections, but actual faces—twisted and frozen, staring back at me from within the tree’s branches. To my dismay, I recognized some of them. Steve, the mailman. Cora, who ran the gift shop. These were the faces of people I hadn’t seen in days.

My stomach twisted as realization dawned. The trees weren’t just decorations. They were people. Somehow, Stefan had transformed them, trapping their souls inside these monstrous pines.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around to find Stefan standing in the doorway, his face calm and unreadable.

“Enjoying the gala?” he asked, his voice low and smooth. He took a step into the room, allowing the door to click shut behind him.

“Wh-what is this?” I stammered, gesturing toward the grotesque tree.

Stefan smiled, his gaze shifting to the tree. “Just a little Christmas magic,” he said, as if he were discussing a party trick. “It’s a tradition in Veldenmark, you know. Capturing the spirit of the season… quite literally.”

He moved closer, the warmth draining from his smile. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you, Gabe?” His voice had taken on a darker, sharper edge. “Most people wouldn’t look twice. But you… you just had to dig, didn’t you?”

My mouth went dry. “These… these are people!” I managed, gesturing at the tree. “You’re turning people into… into trees?”

Stefan tilted his head like he was studying a particularly interesting insect. “Well, yes,” he said, unfazed. “That’s how we ensure our royal festivities are… shall we say, unforgettable.” He returned his gaze to the tree, his expression softening in an almost affectionate way. “They’ll live forever this way, a permanent fixture of the celebration.”

I took a step back, glancing toward the door, but Stefan blocked my path. “You can’t keep doing this!” I said, my voice trembling. “People will notice. Someone will stop you.”

He chuckled, a sound that sent ice down my spine. “Oh, they won’t notice. People are too busy with their seasonal festivities and their mundane, insignificant lives. They don’t want to know the truth.” He leaned in, his gaze piercing. “And as for you… well, I think I have just the place for you, in our little menagerie.”

Panic surged through me as Stefan reached out, but just as his fingers brushed my shoulder, there was a sudden loud bang. The door burst open, and Holly stood there, wide-eyed, looking between us.

“Gabe? What’s going on?” she asked, her voice trembling.

I couldn’t tell if it was the shock or sheer luck that had brought her here, but I didn’t have time to question it. “Holly, we have to leave. Now!” I said, grabbing her hand.

Stefan’s smile faded. “Holly,” he said softly, his voice dripping with false warmth. “You don’t want to go with him. He doesn’t understand our traditions. He doesn’t see the… beauty of this.”

Holly looked between us, confused and scared, but I tightened my grip on her hand, pulling her toward the door. “Trust me, Holly. We need to get out of here.”

For a moment, she hesitated, glancing back at Stefan, her eyes full of conflicted emotions. Then she turned, nodding, and we bolted out the door together, racing down the hallway as Stefan’s voice echoed behind us.

“Run if you want,” he called, his voice carrying an eerie calmness. “But remember… Winter Hollow always has room for one more Christmas tree.”

We tore down the hallway, our footsteps echoing through the inn as we scrambled to find an exit. I could still hear Stefan’s voice trailing after us, calm and confident, as if he already knew exactly how this was going to end. Every corner we turned, it felt like he was right behind us, lurking in the shadows, waiting for his moment. Holly’s grip tightened around my hand as we raced through the labyrinthine halls.

“Gabe,” she whispered, panic evident in her voice. “What was all that back there? What did he mean by… traditions?”

I didn’t have the words, or maybe I didn’t want to scare her more than she already was. How could I explain what I’d seen? That our “beloved” prince was some kind of supernatural monster who’d turned our neighbors into trees?

“I assure you, Holly, you don’t want to know,” I said, forcing myself to stay calm. “All that matters is getting you out of here, and away from him.”

We reached the end of the hallway, where a pair of tall, narrow doors led out into the garden. Without hesitation, I threw them open, pulling Holly with me as we stumbled into the cold night air. The garden was dark and still, the snow-covered ground gleaming under the faint light from the stars. And then I saw them—more trees. Pines, firs, and spruces, lined up along the path.

But these were no ordinary trees. I could sense it now, the same shiver of wrongness I’d felt inside. There were faces trapped in the branches here too, faces twisted in silent horror, with their eyes frozen open, looking out at the world with despair. I recognized even more of them. A couple of my old teachers. The mechanic who used to fix my car in high school. My old boss from the hardware store.

My stomach turned. All this time, I’d thought these people had just moved away. Disappeared for some normal reason. But now I knew—Stefan had taken them. And here they were, hidden in plain sight, part of his ghastly forest.

Holly gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Gabe… what is this? Are those… are those people?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice tight. “I think so.”

Before I could say anything else, I heard footsteps crunching through the snow. We both turned, and there he was, walking toward us as if he had all the time in the world. Stefan’s face was no longer charming or friendly—it was cold and calculated, like that of a predator sizing up his prey.

“Holly,” he said softly, his voice smooth and almost tender, “come back inside. It’s cold out here. You’ll be so much warmer with me.”

Holly looked at him, her expression wavering. For a moment, I thought she was going to turn back, that his spell still had its hold on her. But then she shook her head, taking a step back. “No. I… I don’t know what you are, but I don’t want any part of it.”

Stefan’s eyes flashed with something cruel. “You don’t know what you’re turning down, Holly,” he said. “I could give you everything you’ve ever wanted. A life of beauty and elegance. And all I ask in return is your devotion.”

“That’s a funny word for ‘soul!’” I snapped, stepping between them. “I don’t think she’s interested, Prince Charming.”

Stefan chuckled, the sound low and mocking. “Oh, Gabe,” he said, his gaze settling on me. “You have such a limited view of things. You see danger where there is beauty and fear where there is wonder. It’s no surprise you’re so… alone.”

I felt a prickle of anger, but I forced it down, grabbing Holly’s hand. “Let’s go.”

We started to back away, moving carefully along the garden path, past the rows of trees and their motionless, horrified faces. Stefan followed us, his steps slow and unhurried.

Then, all at once, the pines began to move. Their branches shifted, stretching toward us like skeletal hands. Roots twisted out of the ground, coiling and uncoiling in the snow. The trees closed in, trapping us between Stefan and his growing army.

“Where will you run, Gabe?” Stefan’s silky voice echoed. “There’s nowhere left for you. Winter Hollow is now my kingdom. And in this realm, I decide who stays.”

I glanced around, looking for any gap or way out, and found none. The trees had formed a tight perimeter around us and were steadily approaching. Holly clutched my arm, her fingers digging into my jacket as she looked up at me, terrified.

“Gabe, what do we do?” she whispered.

I didn’t have an answer. My mind was racing, trying to think of anything, any way to escape. And then it hit me. The one thing that hadn’t moved, the one thing that Stefan hadn’t touched or twisted—the holiday decorations on the inn. The old lights, the garlands, the cheap plastic star on top of the tallest tree in the garden. Maybe he couldn’t stand real, old-fashioned Christmas cheer.

I glanced up at the star, squinting in the dim light. The only problem was… it was high. And to get to it, I’d have to get past Stefan.

“Do you trust me?” I asked Holly, still watching Stefan as he circled us, his eyes glowing faintly green in the darkness.

She hesitated, but then nodded, gripping my arm. “Yes.”

“Then run,” I whispered, jerking my head toward the inn. “Get to the top floor. Find the lights and turn them on. All of them.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll keep him busy.”

Before she could argue, I gave her a push, watching as she stumbled toward the inn and broke into a run. Stefan’s eyes narrowed as he watched her go, and he moved to follow, but I stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Going somewhere?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Stefan’s gaze flicked back to me, his lips curving into a smile. “You’re very brave, Gabe,” he said. “Or very foolish. Either way, it’s admirable.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” I clenched my fists, standing my ground as he took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with something dark and ancient.

Behind me, I heard the sound of a door slamming, and I prayed Holly had made it inside. If she could get those lights on, perhaps we had a chance.

Stefan tilted his head, studying me. “What do you hope to accomplish here?” he asked. “You’re one man, alone, against something beyond your comprehension.”

“Maybe. But at least I don’t hide behind a make-believe title and a phony accent.”

For a moment, Stefan peered at me, his stare cold and predatory. Then, abruptly, he lunged, faster than I thought possible, and I barely had time to dodge as his hand shot out, clawed fingers slicing through the air where my head had been a second before.

I stumbled back, nearly losing my footing, but somehow managed to stay upright. Behind me, the lights in the inn began to flicker on, one by one, spilling golden light into the garden. I saw Stefan wince, his face contorting in a brief moment of discomfort.

“Ah!” he hissed, backing away as still more lights came on. “Don’t be silly! You think Christmas spirit will save you?”

“It’s worth a shot,” I said, breathing heavily.

The lights blazed brighter, flooding the garden with a warm, inviting glow, and I could see Stefan’s expression change. His eyes darkened, and his face twisted with rage as the lights grew stronger. The trees around us seemed to recoil as well, their branches pulling back as if scorched by the light.

Holly appeared at one of the upper windows, waving frantically. “Gabe! The star! The one on top of the tree!”

I looked up, spotting the plastic star perched atop the tallest tree. It was glowing now, flickering as the lights continued to blaze. I didn’t know why, but I knew it was important.

I glanced at Stefan, who was backing away, shielding his eyes from the light. This was it. If I could reach that star, maybe—just maybe—I could end this.

Without hesitating, I broke into a run, darting past Stefan and toward the tree. I could hear him shouting furiously behind me, but I ignored him, reaching up toward the star. The closer I got, the brighter it shone, until it was nearly blinding.

I grabbed it, feeling a strange surge of energy pulsing through it, and raised it high above my head.

“Back off, Stefan!” I shouted. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

For a split second, he hesitated, his eyes locked on the star in my hand. And in that moment, I saw something else in him—a flicker of fear.

For a brief moment, I held that ridiculous plastic star high, hoping it was somehow more than a cheesy holiday decoration. The light pouring from it was intense, casting Stefan’s face in stark relief. His features warped, his charming mask slipping, this time for all to see, revealing something far more monstrous underneath—eyes that burned an unnatural green, and skin that seemed too smooth and flawless, barely human.

Stefan recoiled, his hands raised as if warding off an attack. “Put that down, Gabe!” he hissed harshly, with a tone resembling nails scraping glass. “You don’t understand what you’re dealing with!”

“Oh, I think I’m getting the picture,” I said, gripping the star tighter as it pulsed with a supernatural warmth. I took another step forward, and Stefan took a shaky step back, his gaze darting between me and the star. “This whole time, you’ve been feeding off people, trapping them in these trees. And for what?”

“Life, you ignorant fool!” Stefan sneered, though I could see the fear in his eyes. “Their lives, bound to mine, forever. A perfect, eternal celebration, undisturbed by time or decay. Immortality itself!”

I glanced around, taking in the forest of trees with their horrifying, distorted faces. All those lives, stolen for his own selfish gain. And he thought he could just keep going, keep adding to his collection. For a moment I wondered how many other times he’d done this, and how long he’d gotten away with it.  How old he really was.

But it didn’t matter.

Not tonight.

Not anymore.

* * * * * *

I felt a surge of anger. I stepped toward him, brandishing the star like a weapon. Stefan tried to keep his composure, but I could see him twitching, his eyes darting to the star, grimacing every time the light hit his face.

“Here’s the thing, Stefan,” I said. “You’re nothing but a parasite, and you’re not welcome here anymore!”

Suddenly, Holly’s voice echoed from above. “Gabe, watch out!”

I barely had time to react. One of the trees—its branches twisted and gnarled—lashed out, its limbs whipping toward me with a speed that didn’t belong in the plant world. I stumbled back, just barely dodging it, feeling the icy brush of needles against my face.

Stefan’s smile returned, mocking and indifferent. “You see, Gabe, they’re loyal to me. And they don’t appreciate you trying to ruin our gathering.”

He raised his hand, and the trees around us came to life, their branches stretching and bending, reaching out like claws. Holly screamed from her spot by the window, but I couldn’t look away. It was like some hideous nightmare—the trees seemed unstoppable, lurching toward me with murderous intent, their branches thrashing aggressively.

But then I felt it—the pulse from the star, warming my hand, steadying me. I lifted it high, aiming it straight at Stefan. Again the light intensified, cutting through the garden like a beacon. The trees drew back, their branches shrinking, their faces writhing in agony. Stefan snarled, his mask slipping further, revealing eyes that gleamed with rage and… desperation.

“No!” he snarled, shielding himself as if the light was burning him. “You have no idea what you’re doing!”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I do,” I shot back, stepping closer, keeping the star aimed at him. “Party’s over, Stefan.”

With an inhuman shriek that made my skin crawl, he sprang at me with impossible speed. I stumbled backward, just managing to swing the star between us, and the light flared again, brighter than ever. Stefan’s scream echoed through the night as he staggered back, overwhelmed with hatred and frustration.

He glanced around, his gaze falling on Holly, who was still watching from the window above, wide-eyed and horrified. For a moment, his expression softened, his features flickering back to their charming facade. “Holly,” he pleaded. “Please… you don’t understand. I was only trying to create something timeless. A magnificent celebration. I wanted… I wanted you to be part of it.”

Holly’s face hardened, her expression shifting from fear to disgust. “I don’t want anything to do with you,” she said, her voice shaking. “You’re a monster.”

At that, all semblance of Stefan’s humanity vanished completely. His eyes flared green, his visage feral and otherworldly. “Unacceptable!” he spat, turning his attention back to me. “Neither of you is leaving here alive!”

The trees resumed their pursuit of me and Holly, reaching for anything they could grab. The temperature plummeted, the very ground freezing beneath my feet. But the star pulsed in my hand, warm and bright, resisting the darkness.

“Holly!” I shouted. “Get out of here! Run!”

She hesitated, but then nodded, backing away from the window. I saw her shadow disappear, and I prayed she’d find a way out, that she’d escape this nightmare.

When he noticed his would-be queen had abandoned him, Stefan roared, a sound so primal and animalistic that it gave me pause.

“You’re ruining everything!” he hissed, advancing on me, his form blurring and shifting as if he couldn’t hold onto his human persona any longer. “This was supposed to be a night of beauty, of eternal joy! And you… you’re just a mortal! A worm, wriggling through the dirt, sabotaging something you can’t even begin to understand!”

“Yeah, well,” I said, raising the star higher, letting its light wash over him. “Life isn’t fair. This ain’t a Hallmark movie, and not everyone gets to live happily ever after.”

He let out a snarl, lunging at me again, but this time I was ready. I swung the star forward, the light blazing, and it struck him square in the chest. He stumbled, his eyes wide with shock and fury as the light burned through the darkness surrounding him.

“No!” he shrieked, his voice distorted, as if coming from a thousand throats. “This isn’t… this isn’t possible!”

But the light only grew stronger, enveloping him, consuming him. The trees around us thrashed, their limbs snapping and cracking as if in pain, the faces within them writhing in agony. And then, one by one, the trees began to crumble, their bark splintering, their branches falling away as the souls trapped within them were finally released.

Stefan screamed, a horrible, guttural sound that echoed through the garden as he was engulfed by the light. His form flickered, fading, until finally… he was gone.

The star’s light dimmed, fading back to a gentle glow. Reluctantly, I lowered it. The trees had returned to their ordinary, lifeless state, the faces within them nowhere to be seen. The garden was empty now, save for me and the lingering scent of pine.

As if on cue, Holly reappeared, her face pale but determined, walking toward me. “Is it… is it over?” she whispered.

I nodded, still catching my breath. “Yeah. I… I think it is.”

She looked around, taking in the piles of scattered branches and fallen pine needles. “All those people… do you think they’re free now?”

I didn’t have an answer, but I nodded, wishing it was true. “I think so. I hope so.”

We stood there in silence for a moment, the faint glow of the star illuminating the garden, a well-deserved, peaceful calm settling over us. The nightmare was finally over… but I knew Winter Hollow would never be the same.

As we walked back toward the inn, Holly glanced at me, her expression thoughtful. “Gabe… thank you. For saving me. For saving all of us.”

I shrugged, offering her a weary smile. “Just doing my civic duty,” I said, trying to keep the mood light, even as the weight of what had happened settled over me. “Besides, someone had to keep that creep from turning our town into his own personal nature preserve.”

And then, to my surprise, Holly turned to me, her eyes brimming with emotion, and before I could process what was happening, she dropped down on one knee, looking up at me with a gaze so earnest it almost knocked the wind out of me.

“Gabe,” she whispered, a hand on her heart. “You’re so brave and handsome. I know we’ve both been through a lot, but I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Will you marry me?”

I nearly choked. For a moment, I was speechless. I blinked, looking down at her. Was she serious? I mean, sure, I’d just saved her life, defeated an immortal prince, and single-handedly liberated our Christmas-obsessed town, freeing the souls of dozens of innocent people, but… marriage?

I considered the fact that this absolutely gorgeous woman was on her knees, asking me to spend the rest of my life with her, and as I took in the sight, it occurred to me that I might never be in this position again. And as a red-blooded American man, I knew exactly what I had to do.

I reached down, took her hands gently in mine, and met her gaze. Holly’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

This was it, I realized. The perfect Hollywood moment. I couldn’t believe it was happening. Some way, somehow, everything had led to this moment.

“No,” I said, “Absolutely not. Are you insane?”

Holly’s jaw dropped, the gleam in her eyes replaced with utter shock. “Wh-what?” she stammered, blindsided.

I reached into my pocket, feeling around for something—and pulled out a small card, then handed it to her. “Here, take this.”

She blinked, staring at the card in her hand. “Oh,” she said, her voice hopeful. “Is this your number, so that I can call you later?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “No, Holly, it’s not mine—it’s my shrink’s. I think we could all use some therapy.”

Holly’s expression softened, and after a second, she let out a laugh, a genuine, relieved laugh that somehow made the entire night seem a little less terrifying. We both chuckled, standing there in the snow, the tension finally breaking as we realized just how absurd the whole thing had been.

“Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed,” Holly said, shielding her face. “I can’t believe I just proposed to you. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Hey, what do you say we get out of the cold and get some hot chocolate?”

“That sounds amazing,” she chirped cheerfully, flashing me a smile and brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It’s a date.”

“Quit it,” I laughed. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And you’re a hero.” Holly replied. “And I’m buying.”