Santa's Dirty Obsession
The wind screamed against the cabin, rattling the windows and making the whole structure creak.
“We’re supposed to get two feet by morning,” Grayson said from behind me.
I didn’t turn around. “How do you know?”
“Weather alert on my phone. The power might go out if it gets bad enough.”
As if on cue, the lights flickered.
Once. Twice.
Then died completely, plunging us into darkness.
“Well,” I said into the sudden silence. “That’s not ominous at all.”
I heard Grayson moving in the darkness, heard a drawer open and close, and then a flashlight clicked on, casting long shadows across the walls.