Santa’s Special Christmas

Santa’s Special Christmas

by Martin Walker Brown

Copyright © by Martin Walker Brown, All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author.

Presented by Martin Walker Brown, and Phantom Canyon Entertainment, Inc.

Santa’s Workshop bustled on Christmas Eve Day

Harnessed were the reindeer and loaded was the sleigh

The elves were quite happy and sang with great cheer,

And snow fell thickly at that time of year

The sack was bulging with the cargo of toys

They took off amid the wind’s rushing noise

Elves Nate and Mike helped with that run

By offloading toys for the Christmas Day’s fun..

They reached the first village-in some northern nation

Not a roof top or lawn was without decoration

But no lights could be seen in that quaint little town.

With only the glow of the moon to be found

From the first home’s roof, Mike, Santa and Nate

Saw groups of people out and about, rather late.

They could not hear them; no carols were sung.

Their posture was stilted as if they’d been hung.

Nate smiled, “The power lines are probably down.”

But Santa looked troubled and his face wore a frown.

Still, the toys would be left in their place by the tree.

Nate handed Santa a small sack with great glee.

Down the chimney went Santa unafraid of a flame.

And things slowed about him; the effect has a name..

A bubble of time ‘round the house was created.

Without its protection Santa would be ablated.

He emerged from a fireplace into a room

Naught could be seen in the Stygian gloom

Santa clapped twice to give light to the place.

But in the glow he drew back, fear on his face.

The room was a shambles and covered in blood.

Footprints of crimson with broken branches and mud.

Bodies were mangled and some had been gnawed.

And behind him, Santa suddenly felt himself pawed.

A face with white eyes and a lolling bald head

Santa realized just then that this man was dead.

But it was still moving and groping for food.

To add to the horror the gross creature was nude.

Loud shuffling and grunts could be heard nearby.

There was work to be done before he could fly.

He struck with his candy cane, swung like a mace.

Spraying blood, brains and skull bits all over the place.

More dead ones came in surrounding St. Nick

But was saved by the elves, each with a stick.

Together, they put down the twitching dead ghouls.

But more weapons were needed, they were no mere fools.

“The thing,” said Santa, “is that we have to fight.”.

“Our work is not done. We’ll be at this all night”

Both elves grimaced, pulling out tools that were better.

Nate chose a 12 gauge while Mike picked a Beretta.

All through the night they fought in each home.

Leaving no dead folk walking or able to roam.

Some folks were yet living, barricaded inside,

Santa gave extra toys to the children with pride.

As the sun rose up on the grim Christmas day.

Mike, Santa and Nate were well on their way.

Back to the workshop (and the elves’ little bar).

It was clear that they needed a long R&R.

As the sleigh flew over the blood-soddened lands.

Santa looked down calling out with cupped hands.

“We’re going back home after killing abominations.’

“If you want us to return get your damned vaccinations!”

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