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It's Christmas Eve, and the lights are twinkling... but not with holiday cheer. They're flickering over the spilled blood in the "Winter Wonderland Galleria"! "The Mall Santa's List: He Came for the Cheer, He Stayed for the Carnage" delivers a jolt of pure, over-the-top, glorious pulp terror ripped straight from your darkest, most nostalgic nightmares. This isn't your grandma's cozy Christmas story; this is a relentless, axe-swinging, psycho-killer rampage starring a demented Santa who escaped a padded cell and decided the mall was his new, crimson-colored workshop. Get ready for a story where the halls are decked with bodies, and the only sale item is your life!
Inside the cavernous, deserted shopping center, a small crew of cynical security guards and weary cleaning personnel are trapped. They thought they were counting down the minutes to Christmas morning, but they were really counting down the seconds until Jolly Jack arrived. Our deranged Saint Nick doesn't use the chimney; he uses the back door, and he doesn't bring toys-he brings trauma. Every plastic decoration, every giant gingerbread man, and every tacky tinsel strand becomes a deadly prop in his horrifying, festive game. The tension is razor-sharp, the setting is absurd, and the escalating madness is absolutely relentless.
Prepare yourself for a visceral, camp-fueled thrill ride. Watch as Maria, the last cynical survivor, attempts to fight back using industrial floor wax and roadside flares against a behemoth in a blood-red suit who's convinced he's fulfilling a righteous, holiday mission. The sardonic humor serves only to heighten the absolute dread, making you laugh one second and clutch your throat the next. Every page drips with the kind of hyper-detailed, shocking violence that will make you feel like you need a shower and a shot of eggnog.
This edition from The Tomb of Thrilling Terrors series is crafted specifically for fans who love their horror loud, lurid, and unapologetically vicious. If you crave villains with warped missions and scenarios that turn the mundane into the murderous, this book is your perfect gift. It's the ultimate holiday stress reliever-unless you're the one running for your life across a slippery, blood-slicked food court while carols blast over the PA system.
But when the music fades, the lights die, and the final scream echoes into the terrible silence of the closing mall...
What truly happens when Santa decides he's done with checking his list, and only wants to check your pulse?
Inside the cavernous, deserted shopping center, a small crew of cynical security guards and weary cleaning personnel are trapped. They thought they were counting down the minutes to Christmas morning, but they were really counting down the seconds until Jolly Jack arrived. Our deranged Saint Nick doesn't use the chimney; he uses the back door, and he doesn't bring toys-he brings trauma. Every plastic decoration, every giant gingerbread man, and every tacky tinsel strand becomes a deadly prop in his horrifying, festive game. The tension is razor-sharp, the setting is absurd, and the escalating madness is absolutely relentless.
Prepare yourself for a visceral, camp-fueled thrill ride. Watch as Maria, the last cynical survivor, attempts to fight back using industrial floor wax and roadside flares against a behemoth in a blood-red suit who's convinced he's fulfilling a righteous, holiday mission. The sardonic humor serves only to heighten the absolute dread, making you laugh one second and clutch your throat the next. Every page drips with the kind of hyper-detailed, shocking violence that will make you feel like you need a shower and a shot of eggnog.
This edition from The Tomb of Thrilling Terrors series is crafted specifically for fans who love their horror loud, lurid, and unapologetically vicious. If you crave villains with warped missions and scenarios that turn the mundane into the murderous, this book is your perfect gift. It's the ultimate holiday stress reliever-unless you're the one running for your life across a slippery, blood-slicked food court while carols blast over the PA system.
But when the music fades, the lights die, and the final scream echoes into the terrible silence of the closing mall...
What truly happens when Santa decides he's done with checking his list, and only wants to check your pulse?
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