A Yuletide Horror

"Accrington is a town under siege!" Announced Suzy, a friend of mine. She was normally overly dramatic, came with the profession I suppose. She was a blogger you see. Literally, if it was capable of being documented of, it appeared on her blog. She had recently discovered the world of 'Vlogging' so me and the others were always messing about in the back ground of her latest video.
Steve stuck his head into the frame and shouted, "The penguins are slowly taking our sanity away!"
Suzy punched him. "Accrington is a town under siege."
"You've already said that!" I shouted.
She ignored us and continued. "Over the past five days, three murders have been committed, barbaric murders that couldn't possibly have been committed by the hand of man."
"Maybe it was a woman!" Cried  Billy, the most idiotic of our gang.
She continued, dauntless. "But what is to blame? Aliens, animals, monsters from under the bed?"
Matthew, welsh and suffering from mild pyromania, climbed up from his chair and carried the plug to a socket across our dormitory. He plugged it in then returned to his chair. On the table, he had a voltage stabiliser connected to two crocodile wires which clipped onto a thread of wire. Turning the voltage stabiliser to its maximum capacity, the piece of wire glowed red like an ember. And blew the electricity. The computer stopped working and we were plunged into darkness. Which was probably quite good, as what happened to Matthew next sounded quite painful.

To be truthful, she was dramatizing the situation. Accrington wasn't so much under siege than in a state of disrepair. Sure, these murders were pretty barbaric, but things like that had happened before. Me and Suzy were walking down a street in Accrington, not that I know what it's called. I don't remember things like that, I think the information is silly. There was a child called Jeremy or possibly Jensen. Or even Jack. Definitely something starting with a J. Or possibly an L. Or maybe a K. It definitely started with one of the letters of the alphabet. I hope. Anyway, this child was crying. His mother consoling him. By which I mean telling him not to be silly.
"But the Christmas tree was looking at me angrily!" He cried.
"Don't be silly (insert either the names Jeremy, Jensen, Jack, something beginning with J, or L, or K or one of the other letters of the alphabet) a tree can't look at you!"
I ignored it of course, because that's what any sensible student would do. Me and Suzy were chatting for most of the walk. With the dog of course. Steve had told his parents that he was married and lived in a house of his own, so they sent him a dog. Now we were suffering as well. We couldn't be bothered to walk the full distance, so we took a shortcut down the back of the allotments through the wooded area. Blitzer, as that was the dogs name, was attempting to steal every stick ever known to man. He ran into one bush and we waited whilst he retrieved a stick. He ran back out and brought us one. It was that of a fir tree, otherwise known as Christmas tree. Appropriate really, it was December after all.
It wasn't very Christmassy though, when it grabbed my neck and attempted to kill me...