"Ho ho ho ho ho! I need to get these presents everywhere, all around the world, to put smiles on the faces of little boys and girls of all origins and ethnicities!"
Santa Claus tugged the reins of his sleigh. All of his reindeer were happy, healthy, and ready to serve on their special day. Sure, temperatures were far lower than zero in some parts of the world, including their native North Pole, but even all of these centuries later, they couldn't believe how lucky they were to have a master as generous and sweet-natured as ol' Saint Nick.
Santa parked his sleigh on the roof of a Goodwill building. He was somewhere in suburban Florida, where he would drop off the toys for all of the children in the area. This is because, contrary to popular belief, Santa Claus has stations in all states and countries across the globe, making his job a lot more manageable than going from house to house would be. ... It only made scientific sense.
"This ceiling feels a little creaky. Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho. Why... I'm not totally sure I like where this is going. Something feels... dark, up here. ... Regardless, Father Christmas won't fail you now, children-in-the-flesh and children-at-heart! Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!"
Two of his favorite elves, Billy Bob and Rupert, began unloading some of the boxes containing Christmas cheer. Why, there was a BB gun for Little Billy, a My Little Pony doll for Little Judy, a 6-pack of Schlitz beer for a local college student, and even some lovely trinkets for Jewish, Hindu, Muslim, Scientologist, and other children across the state. It all seemed well... but then suddenly, it wasn't. At all.
As a box was being moved from the storage area of the sleigh onto the roof... it was moving. At first, rather slowly and steadily... but then, swiftly, and loudly, like a stern banging against a cardboard wall. The box rationally weighed only slightly more than a few pounds, if that. Billy Bob could feel the spazzing in his hands. Before this moment, every single time throughout history that the Claus crew delivered pets, there would always be breathing holes, and the packages would be handled with the utmost care by the elves. This would be the unfortunate ending of this tradition... and many others.
Billy Bob gulped. Then he let out a scream. And then... a strong, stern bumping from inside the cardboard occurred. Billy Bob involuntarily dropped the box, which landed square on top of Rupert's big toe. As an immediate physical reaction, the box burst, and Rupert let out screams for both the pain in his foot and...what emerged.
A white, misty, mysterious aura, emitting much like an Aurora Borealis.
"D-don't go near it, Billy Bob! It might be a trap! Ho, ho... ho, ho... ho..."
What happened next was unlike anything Billy Bob or Rupert had ever seen before. Rupert gathered his elven courage, stared into the box, and examined a tiny, seemingly harmless doll, wrapped painstakingly with care in some sort of... black cloth. The still peace would only last for mere moments, as the doll once again spazzed and shook, and the black cloth, for no empirical reason, began and continued to unravel... and unravel... and unravel. It grew bigger... and bigger... and bigger, as its features became more and more lifelike. What was most disturbing, however... was the lack of features.
There was no face.
The dark cloth had evolved into a wrinkled business suit, which magically straightened itself out before Santa and the elves' very eyes. There was a roaring silence. 10, 20, 25... perhaps 35 seconds. No one knew to respond. There was no precedent for this.
"And who might you be?", Santa bravely uttered. As the leader of the Christmas Crew throughout the course of time, he knew he was the only one who could straighten out whoever this supernatural... monster was.
Unfortunately, the brave old obese man's heroic actions were all for naught.
The anonymous creature kicked Santa off his sleigh! He slid across the icy ceiling and fell three stories to a sharp, frozen death. There was no drama, no fingers hanging from the side of the building. There was no gradual torment. Santa Claus was dead.
"Santa!!!", Rupert cried.
"Who... will save Christmas?", Billy Bob stuttered between tears.
10, 20, 25, 35. Silence yet again. Christmas cheer had disgustingly turned into a nightmare's somber ballad.
"... Me...", whispered the anonymous, faceless creature.
More rapes, murders, verbal and physical abuse, automobile accidents, gunshot wounds... were reported this night than any other in the history of civilized man. Someway, somehow, presents continue to be distributed in every nation everywhere, to boys, girls, teens, adults... but contrary to popular belief, this night isn't always pleasant for everybody. Whoever you are, whatever you do, we must all remember... to handle our Christmas presents with the utmost care... and caution.
Written by Cjaymarch84