In 1988, Jason Shelton, also known as the Archer Drive Strangler, committed a series of murders in his community. His victims were all women, single mothers with teenage children at home. No one knows what motivated him to commit these atrocities, or why he selected the mothers of teenagers as his victims. He just snapped one day and started killing. The date was December 24, 1988, Christmas Eve.
After killing multiple women in the course of a single night, The Archer Drive Strangler was apprehended on Christmas Day. He didn’t try to run, in fact he almost seemed to allow the police to take him into custody. He was found guilty of three counts of murder and sentenced to death by lethal injection. He never spoke during the trial, not even to his lawyer. It was as if he were mute.
He was a model prisoner. He kept to himself, never spoke to anyone, followed commands and stayed out of trouble. But on December 24, 1989, one year to the day since his killing spree, he vanished from custody. No one knows how or where it happened. Guards saw him at bedtime, but the next morning he was gone, as though he had just vanished during the night.
While the Archer Drive Strangler was never seen again, each year on Christmas Eve another murder serves as a sombering reminder that he is still at large. Each year, another single mother with teenage children is found on Christmas morning, strangled with a strand of Christmas tree lights. The gruesome scene is usually discovered by the children, a sort of gift from an evil Santa Claus.
Chapter Two
Julie Gray sat at her dining room table, looking out the window at the snow falling. It would be a white Christmas after all. She smiled as she sipped her coffee, and the fresh falling powder covered the ground as if it were erasing all of the normal cares and worries of the world around her. The wind whipped the snow around, creating mini-cyclones as it howled. She loved the snow, just as long as she didn’t have to drive in it. Fortunately, she was off work today for Christmas Eve, but she would have to work tomorrow instead.
The smell of coffee and gingerbread permeated the house. She was making cookies for her thirteen-year-old son, Josh. He had stopped believing in Santa Claus a couple of years ago and that nearly broke Julie’s heart. She had so thoroughly enjoyed the look of joy on his face every Christmas morning when he saw the presents under the tree that Santa had left for him.
Her son came trudging into the kitchen, his hair was mussed and looked like he had just rolled out of bed. “Good morning, sleepyhead” Julie greeted him.
He looked around the kitchen, a look of disdain on his face. “Mom, I’m too old for gingerbread cookies and playing in the snow. I’m going to shoot zombies with my friends.”
Julie was heartbroken, but she understood. He was growing up, and he didn’t want to spend his time playing with his mother when he had friends his own age. He retreated to his bedroom and Julie heard the sound of the gaming console turning on.
Chapter Three
Julie decided she was going to enjoy her day, even if Josh wouldn’t spend it with her. She bundled up and went outside to build a snowman. The bitter cold wind stung her cheeks and nose, but she was determined. She was so focused on her task that she didn’t notice the man sitting in the car across the street watching her.
The wind was so hard it kept blowing the snowman apart. Julie opted instead to make a miniature snowman that she could put on the front porch, where the house would block the wind and allow the tiny decoration to live. When she had finished, she hurried back inside to warm up.
The gingerbread cookies were finished, so she put them on a plate and filled a glass with milk. She carried them to Josh’s room and sat them on his dresser. He barely looked up from the TV.
She grabbed a blanket and sat down in front of the living room TV. She turned to the Hallmark channel and watched Christmas movies. The day went by quickly, and before she even realized it, the sun had gone down.
She went to Josh’s room, where he was still playing video games. She ordered him to bed, despite his protestations. He turned off the TV and climbed into bed. She turned off his light and closed the door, remembering Christmases past where he had gone to bed with such bubbling excitement she would have to watch his door to make sure he didn’t peek while his dad put Christmas presents under the tree. John had left them two years ago, and didn’t call or write anymore. He had a new family in Chicago, and was all too willing to forget about this one. Josh seemed to adapt well, and Julie did the best she could.
Chapter Four
Julie set out all of Josh’s presents, and filled his stocking. She knew that he would know she did it and not Santa, but still, it was tradition. When she was finished, she checked his room. He was sleeping soundly in his bed. Her little boy was growing up. The thought filled her with sadness just as much as pride. The rest of the year she would be happy to celebrate him growing up, but at Christmas time she just wanted him to be the excited, happy little boy he used to be.
The storm outside worsened. The snow fell harder and the wind whipped faster. The electricity blinked on and off, before going out completely. Julie wondered how long the heat inside the house would last before she would need to light kerosene heaters. She bundled up and went outside to the shed, bringing in two large heaters. She didn’t notice the man from the car as he slipped in the open door to the dark house.
Julie struggled to light the kerosene heaters, but eventually got them both lit. She placed one in the dining room, just outside Josh’s door and one in the living room. Hopefully the power comes back on soon, she thought.
As she started to relax, she sensed a presence behind her. Before she could turn around, something wrapped around her throat and tightened. Her mind raced, realizing that the object strangling her was a strand of Christmas tree lights. She remembered the stories of the Archer Drive Strangler and knew immediately who was killing her.
The only problem with that was that Julie had no intention of dying. She jammed her elbow backward, making contact with the sternum of her assailant. As he pitched forward, breathless, Julie slipped out of the strand of lights and moved away from him. Simultaneously, she pulled her gun from her ankle holster and spun around. Seeing the silhouette of a six-foot man in the dim glow of the heater, she aimed and fired twelve shots. All twelve hit their mark and the man fell backwards to the floor. Julie reloaded.
With her cell phone, Julie dialed 9-1-1. When the operator answered she said, “This is SWAT captain Julie Gray. There is an intruder in my home.” She gave her address and tossed the phone onto the couch.
The man started to move again. As he tried to sit up, the lights came back on. Julie aimed again and ordered him to stay down, her voice changing from that of a wistful mother to the tone of a very angry police officer. He sat up anyway and she fired again. This time she was aiming for his head, and her next twelve shots obliterated his face. The Archer Drive Strangler was dead.
The End
