Working Title

#12PlotPoints – Blood in the Snow

PROMPT 1 – THE FIRST SNOWFALL

It snowed year-round in the North Pole, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have a first snowfall. To them, the first snowfall referred to the first one in December. The first Christmas snowfall. And a Christmas snowfall was something completely different.

It was magical. The flakes were always bigger, fluffier, and tasted a little sweeter if you could manage to catch one on your tongue. Which wasn’t hard. The flakes fell slower, wanting to be caught.

The first snowfall meant the magic had turned on. It was when everything changed and for the rest of the month, love outweighed hate. People were more patient and kind. Singing and gift-giving were socially acceptable and actually encouraged. Children were on their best behavior, finalizing their letters to Santa hoping he would look past their faults and put them on the “good” list. Which he always did.

Everyone in the North Pole looked forward to it. However, that year it was late.

Aaric Morozov was standing outside on December 21st when the first flake fell. The first one blessed with the magic of Christmas. It acted accordingly, twirling through the air with its joyous dance of celebration, twinkling in the morning sun.

Aaric’s eyes followed it along its journey from Heaven to Earth. A light breeze picked it up along the way, guiding it into a perfect loopty loop. He could almost hear it squealing from excitement like a child being tossed into the air by a parent.

The little snowflake calmed, steadying its path as it got closer to the ground. It barely moved as it slipped past the eyelashes and landed flat on the pupil of a very frozen, very dead, Hael Kuznetsov.

The moment it landed, the stillness in the air broke, the sky opened up, and rest of the snow fell, dusting Aaric’s blue tunic perfectly and tickling the back of his neck. He lowered to one knee, getting a better look at his fallen brother while carefully avoiding the thick red that clumped in the snow. They may not have been related by blood, but all elves were considered brothers and sisters at the North Pole. Especially Hael.

Hael was no ordinary toy-maker. He was the oldest. The first. He and Santa started the workshop together on the eve of the very first Christmas. It was then that Santa granted him immortality and they began their eternal mission, both devoted to making Christmas the most magical time of the year.

The snow crunched behind Aaric. Not yet the satisfying crunch that came with Christmas snow but the sharp cracking kind. Aaric rose and turned to the noise, knowing exactly who he’d see.

Santa Claus stopped an arm’s length away. He wore a fitted, red, velvet jacket that the snow didn’t dare touch. His long, white hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he had a dab of bright blue paint on his nose. It was obvious he had come straight from the workshop where he spent most of his days assisting the elves.

“How did this happen?” Santa asked. His voice was deep with undertones of jingle bells. “How could it happen?”

Aaric shook his head. “I don’t know, father.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, the cause of death is obvious. He’s been stabbed several times in the chest and abdomen. But simple stab wounds would be nothing to an immortal.”

Santa nodded. “Yet here we are.”

“I’ll find out who did this.”

“I know you will, my boy.”

Santa opened his arms and Aaric accepted his embrace. Elves couldn’t feel temperature like humans, but they could always feel the heat that emanated from him. It was a warmth that defied logic. It was the embodiment of Christmas spirit.

Santa pulled away, his sigh brushing past Aaric’s ear. He patted him twice on the shoulder with a smile that was both strained and genuine. Then, without saying another word, he turned and trudged back towards the workshop.

Aaric turned back to Hael.

“What killed you, brother? What could possibly be more powerful than Christmas Magic?”

PROMPT 2 – A BANG

Aaric walked silently across the white pathway, guided by Santa’s deep footprints. His feet almost hovered above the snow with each step, never sinking, never crunching. The toy workshop was only a few minutes away but he took his time, allowing his thoughts to exhaust themselves so he could tackle the issue clear-headed. What a way to start Christmas.

The workshop was made of ice and nearly invisible unless you were looking for it. The reflective walls blended in with the environment nearly seamlessly and were already vanishing with the layer of fresh snow.

The door handle was just a slit carved into the ice. Aaric grabbed it with his bare hand but hesitated when he heard the loud bang from the other side. A thunderous noise that made the ice shake and a layer of snow slide off, landing at Aaric’s feet.

He sighed before giving the door a tug.

The workshop was a madhouse of unrestrained energy and relentless productivity. Hundreds of elves worked excitedly at their stations, while dozens more hurried about ensuring everyone was on target and assisting when required. Santa himself sat with one of the newer workers, and young boy Aaric had not yet learned the name of. He’d only been studying toymaking for fifty years or so and Santa was talking him through the minute details involved in making the perfect rocking horse.

Every elf was happiest when they worked. Even now, during one of their darkest moments, they all smiled. They knew what was important. There would be time to grieve Hael after Christmas.

A dissipating cloud of black smoke hovered around a station in the eastern side of the workshop, the obvious source of the sound heard from outside. There, seated at her table with her head down, wrapped in her own arms, was Caellach — the head of the technology department. The smoke was seeping from a mess of wires and plastic in front of her.

She looked up to greet Aaric as he walked by. Her face was covered in black soot. She took off her glasses to reveal the bare patches around her eyes.

“Crossed the wrong wires,” she giggled.

“Damn,” he snickered. “You know we don’t give out C4 for Christmas right? No matter how good they are.”

Her smile widened and she held up the monstrosity in front of her.

“Drone,” she said. “But I’m experimenting with it.”

“What are you trying to make it do?”

“Not sure. But I’ll know soon enough. Whatever it is…” she ran her finger down a long sheet of parchment before settling on a spot. “…Allen Ackroid is going to love it.”

“Good luck,” he said with a wink.

Aaric gracefully avoided the hustle and bustle as he glided to the back of the workshop. There, a woman with curly white hair, nearly as white as Santa’s, pinned cue cards to a wall.

The wall climbed nearly 50 feet and was divided into two: on the left was a list of toys, and on the right were the names of children. Red and white string ran from the names over to their preferred toys. The woman in charge of the wall, was named Madalaine.

“Adjusting to the new gig?” Aaric asked.

Madalaine didn’t turn around. “Well I’ve only had it for a few hours. I’m getting a rhythm going but Hael’s shoes are big ones to fill.”

“They sure are. But if anyone can fill them, it’s you.”

“Thanks for the confidence.” She climbed up the later another six or so feet to run a few more strings. “Why aren’t you working?” she asked without hostility.

“All wrapped up,” he said. “R&D is over. My vacation starts now. Then, in January, it’s back at it in full force. Researching the next wave of popular toys.”

“I don’t mean R&D,” she said. “Santa says you’re trying to figure out what happened to Hael.”

“I already know what happened. He was stabbed to death.”

“Yes, but how?”

“That’s why I’m here.” He picked up a piece of discarded green string off of Madalaine’s table and wrapped it mindlessly around his fingers. “You were Hael’s apprentice. You sat at his right hand and are the longest running mortal.”

“Yes, I’m old, I get it,” she smiled.

“What do you know about Christmas Magic?”

“A lot.”

“What about the kind that made Hael immortal?”

“A little.”

“Well have you heard of something that could counteract it? I mean, if something killed Hael, it must have bypassed the Christmas Magic.”

“You’re not wrong,” she said, shuffling a little lower down the ladder. “But I’ve never heard of anything that could do that. The magic Santa used on Hael was pure. Right from the source. It’s not even reliant on belief like most things here.”

“Yes but what is the source?”

She paused for a moment, her hands hovering over a name that Aaric couldn’t quite read from where he stood.

“Christmas,” she said finally before continuing her work. “The source of Christmas Magic is Christmas.”

“Yes, but where did it come from? I mean, who made Santa, Santa? Who gave him immortality?”

“You’re getting real deep now, brother.”

He looked away from her and at the string wrapped around his fingers.

“I was toying with an idea during my walk here.”

“Toying?” she smirked.

“The only thing that could cancel out Father’s spell, is something more powerful than Santa Claus. Something above Christmas. The creator.”

“And you think that’s who killed Hael?”

He unwrapped the string from his fingers and tossed it back onto the table.

“I have no clue. But it’s a start.”

“Definitely. But it’s also above me. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with that stuff.”

He sighed. “You and be both.”

Madalaine dusted off her hands after placing the final piece of string. She slid down the ladder and landed effortlessly on her feet.

“So,” Aaric said. “Has he given it to you yet?”

Madalaine arched an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“Has father given you immortality?”

She pulled a half-eaten sandwich out from under her desk and stuffed it into her mouth before shaking her head.

“Oh.” Aaric frowned. “That’s odd.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Madalaine said through her food. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re busy here. A lot has happened today that cannot be addressed until the new year. Everything will be sorted then.”

Madalaine’s eyes went playful again as she shoved the remaining sandwich into the drawer and returned with another ball of string. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, some of us actually have work to do.”

Aaric chuckled. “Don’t let me keep you.”

PROMPT 3 – THE KISS

Aaric straightened away the stacks of papers that had lived on his desk for the past eight months. Charts and data correlating with trends in toy purchases and children’s interests. He rolled up the large schematics and fastened them with a rubber band but still kept them nearby. Now that everything had been handed off to the toymakers, his job was done. That being said, Aaric wasn’t one to take a vacation.

Work was all he had, really. He never had children, never married, never even been in a relationship. They just never felt like priorities to him. Christmas was the only important thing.

So each year, he’d send his team home and stick around. He made himself available to answer questions about designs and even pitched in with the builds. Building toys wasn’t foreign to him. It’s how he started out. But it was Hael himself who saw his potential for more.

Aaric scooped up his stack of papers and carefully carried them towards the back of the workshop, near Madalaine’s wall. Most of the elves had gone for the day. As hard as they all worked, it was regulation that everyone left to get a solid eight hours sleep every night. It was a rule that had to be enforced. If it wasn’t, they would work until they passed out.

He fumbled with the keypad on the wall, balancing the papers in one arm and using the door itself for support. It took a couple of tries but he managed to get his code right and the lock released with a click. He pushed his shoulder into the door and it opened up, revealing the archives within.

The room was dimly-lit and filled with filing cabinets. Each one was labeled with a span of ten years. Within them was the toy research, schematics, and post-Christmas happiness results. Since Aaric started, post-Christmas happiness had gone up each year.

He found the cabinet marked “2010-2020”, pulled open the bottom drawer, and added his files. Another year done. He pushed the drawer shut with a click and realized then that he wasn’t alone.

Santa Claus stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets and a bright, kind smile on his face. He was wearing his thick, red jacket as well as his iconic, warm hat. Santa may have been a god in the eyes of many, but at his core, he was still human. He was susceptible to the cold unlike the elves.

“Father,” Aaric said. “You haven’t left? Mrs. Claus will have your head.”

Santa chuckled with a hint of “ho ho ho”.

“Mrs. Claus spends Most evenings out during the busy month. She has bridge and book clubs to keep her busy. She was never one to wait patiently at home while I worked.”

“No, I can’t imagine she would.” Aaric smiled at the thought of her. Other than Santa himself, she was the kindest, most gentle person he’d ever met.

“She’ll be here shortly. We had planned to walk home together.”

They both stepped out of the archive room and the door locked automatically behind them. Side by side they walked through the workshop toward the exit., Santa’s boots thumping against the floor.

“I wanted to apologise, my boy,” Santa said after a period of silence.

“For what?”

“For dragging you into the business with Hael. I shouldn’t have made it your burden.”

“Don’t be foolish, father. Hael was a mentor to me. I’m happy to help.”

Santa nodded. “You are the brightest mind here, myself included, if anyone could find Hael justice, it would be you. But you shouldn’t have to. It isn’t fair to put that on you.”

“But it’s not just Hael’s death. It’s the safety of everyone else,” Aaric said.

“What do you mean?”

“How are we to know Hael will be the only one?”

Santa laughed. “Really? A serial killer in the North Pole? Come on, Aaric. That’s not possible.”

“Neither was Hael’s death.”

Concern blanketed Santa’s face. “I suppose so. But no. I don’t think it’s anything like that.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The door to the workshop opened just as Aaric and Santa reached it. It revealed a flurry of thick snowflakes and the silhouettes of two women, one of them rushed inside and the other simply stepped in gracefully.

Santa embraced his wife. “Hello, darling.”

Mrs. Claus was human as well. She appeared to be in her mid-sixties – twenty or so years older than Santa. They had been a couple since before the dawn of Christmas. Other than Santa and Hael, she was the only other immortal in the North Pole.

She kissed Santa on the cheek. “How are you, Kristopher?”

“Keeping busy,” he said. “You know me.”

She turned to Aaric and smiled. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Aaric. Aren’t you on vacation?”

Aaric smiled back. “I’m never on vacation, mother. Just taking care of the year end stuff. Making sure I don’t leave any loose ends for the new year. Nothing worse than coming back to a messy desk.”

Behind Mrs. Claus was Misha, Hael’s wife. She stood in silence, dusted in snow.

Santa put his arms around her with care, as though she’d shatter if he moved too suddenly.. He pulled her close and buried her in his warm coat. She hid her face in his chest and sobbed.

He held her there for as long as she needed, both Mrs. Claus and Aaric keeping silent out of respect. It wasn’t until she began to pull away that Santa released her. He would have held her all night if she needed it.

Her hands lingered on his for a second and she looked into his eyes. “Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry, Misha,” Aaric said. “I’m doing everything I can to find out who did this.”

She nodded with a smile. “Thank you Aaric. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. Any questions I can try to answer.”

“I will,” he said. “If I’m honest, I’m in a little over my head. I’m still trying to figure out where to start. Did you notice anything unusual? Was he acting at all strange?”

She shook her head. “He’d just been working. Been spending a lot of time researching.”

“Researching? He didn’t say anything about that to me.”

“Really?” Her face was concerned. “Well, I don’t know much about it. His work has always been beyond my comprehension. I can build toys but he took his management skills to the next level. He said he was working on a new system. Something for productivity. He’d been obsessed with it for weeks before…” Her words caught on a sob before they could get out.

“It’s ok,” Aaric said. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

She nodded and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek and he returned it. However, before she pulled away, her lips hovered next to his ear just long enough to whisper two words.

“Andre Whitman.”

PROMPT 4 – A CHANGE IN SCENERY

Misha hadn’t said much but it was a lot of Aaric to unpack.

He wasn’t surprised that Hael was doing his own research, he did that often, but in secret? Hael was alway too excited to keep those things to himself. And to keep them from Aaric was even more unusual considering they bounced ideas off of each other daily.

Then there was the name. “Andre Whitman”? Was that someone Hael was meeting with? Someone who was after him? Aaric had no idea. But Misha had said it to only him, in a whisper, while surrounded by the two most respected people in the North Pole. That was something he couldn’t ignore.

Aaric didn’t sleep that night. He rolled the thoughts over and over in his head until he finally tore himself out of bed with determination. What Misha said was vague but it was the closest thing he had to a lead. What he needed wasn’t at the North Pole.

The snow in New York City was bitter and so sharp that not even Christmas Spirit in December could soften it. The storefront decorations were forced and commercial. Even the Christmas trees were made of plastic or aluminum. Aaric hated it there.

But Hael loved it. The lights, tall buildings, and noise amazed him.

He’d drag Aaric there every few months to assist in his research. Afterwards, they’d share a pizza and conversation at a place called Giovanni’s. It was the pizza and the opportunity to pick the brain of someone he’d admired so much that kept him coming back.

By the time Aaric reached the steps of the New York Public Library, his stomach rotted with guilt. Not because he was there without Hael, but because he was there in secret. Even when Santa had approached him that morning, asking him what he had planned to do with his day off, Aaric had outright lied.

The act was unforgivable in Aaric’s eyes. But that was something he’d have to deal with later. For now, he could only hope it was worth it.

The library was quiet. Students had all gone home for Christmas break and the usuals were spending their time at the malls. The lines to the digital kiosks were still a little long but all it took was a smile and a little Christmas Magic to get Aaric to the front. Once there, he typed in “Andre Witman.”

“Did you mean Andrew Willman?” The computer asked. “No catalogue results found for ‘Andre Witman’.”

Aaric didn’t know what he expected to find. “How to Find Your Murderer, by Andre Whitman”?

Next, he logged into Hael’s account. Aaric never had his own, so Hael had given him the credentials way back. But his borrow history, and reserved books, were nothing unusual. Mostly books on business, leadership, and productivity. Stuff from authors like Tony Robbins and Gary Vaynerchuk.

He sighed and glared at the screen as if it would magically show him what he needed. Who was Andre Witman?

The customer service desks were less busy. Aaric waited in line like everyone else, giving himself time to think.

“How may I help you?” asked the red-headed college student behind the counter. She had a smile that felt genuine but showed a little too much teeth.

Aaric released the slightest bit of Christmas Magic, filling the area with the strong aroma of candy canes.

“What does the name ‘Andre Witman’ mean to you?” he asked.

Her smile never wavered but she shrugged. “Nothing,” she said. “Is he a member?”

“Maybe. Could you find out?”

“Of course.” She typed the name into her computer. “I have several Andre Witmans in the directory. If you can give me his phone number, I could narrow it down.”

Aaric groaned. How was he supposed to know…

“Try 667 840 7653,” he said.

“That worked! I’ve got his account right here.

Aaric laughed. That number was one him and Hael had used as a joke whenever someone in the human world asked. It spelled “NORTH0POLE.”

Things were starting to make sense. Andre was Hael. He must have created another account under a different name.

“Has he checked out any books?” he asked.

The lady shook her head. “But he has a few reserved.” She printed out a small list. “You can pick them up for him if you’d like.”

He pocketed the paper and thanked her before heading into the shelves. Once he was far enough away, the girl’s smile faded and her expression switched to confusion.

**

Aaric stared across his Giovanni’s pizza at the stack of books he’d picked up. He was afraid to touch them. The mere sight of them knotted his stomach. Three books concentrating on the history of black magic, demonology, and the occult. Each one had several tabs sticking to pages that must have contained info pertaining to whatever it was Hael was researching.

Aaric took a deep breath to steady his nerves, grabbed the top book and pulled it closer.

“Okay, Andre,” he whispered. “Let’s see what rabbit hole you fell into.”

He took a big bite of pizza before opening the book to the first tab.

It took the entire afternoon, and way too many slices of pizza, for Aaric to get through everything.  When he was done, he felt sick. Hael had gone pretty deep, adding his own notes and thoughts to the pages. Most of them obscure and sloppy. As if the words themselves were driving him to madness. But it was obvious he was obsessed with one topic in particular: immortality.

Why would Hael be researching immortality? He already had it. Was it his own mortality that he worried about? Aaric tucked the books under his arm and ducked out of the restaurant and back into the streets. He needed to talk to someone about this. But who could he trust? He wanted nothing more than to bring his findings to Santa but without any answers, it would only worry him. He reassured himself that he wasn’t really keeping it a secret — once he knew more about what was going on, then they could talk about it.

Aaric ducked into a back alley. The sun had gone down and the alley was dark. With the shadows hiding him, he stood still, waiting for the one, special gust of wind. That one that was a little colder than the others. A little more playful. When he found it, he ran his finger down his nose and rode it home.

PROMPT 5 – SOMETHING THAT WAS TAKEN FOR GRANTED IS NOW LOST

Aaric could feel the buzz of energy radiating off the workshop. Everyone was hard at work and he could assume Santa was there among them, elbows deep in paint and leading the crew by example. Truthfully, he wasn’t always the best leader.  It was Hael that taught him how to balance getting his hands dirty with delegating tasks to those who were best equipped to handle them.

Aaric wanted to go in. He wanted to talk to Santa, try to get some answers. Instead he walked past the door, down the tiny walking path, and towards a small house with a domed roof and a warm, welcoming glow coming from inside.

Aaric raised his hand to knock but hesitated, listening to the laughter coming from the other side. He knew he was about to dampen the fun a little and sighed before giving the door three loud knocks. The laughter died and was replaced by a pleasant “Who could that be?”

The door clicked before swinging open and revealing the smiling face of Madalaine’s wife Nikita.

“Aaric?” her smile brightened but her eyes showed concern. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Nikita,” he stammered. “I’m sorry to arrive unannounced.”

“Not at all,” she said. “Come inside. Have some tea.”

“Thank you,” he said, stepping into the tiny home.

Five elf women and Mrs. Claus sat around a table with an unopened deck of cards in the middle, still covered in the plastic wrapping. Each lady had a teacup in front of them but there was no sign of a teapot. Just a bottle of white wine next to the cards.

“Hello everyone,” he said. “I’m sorry to interrupt your game.”

The girls laughed.

“I don’t think any of us even know how to play,” said a woman Aaric had seen before but never learned the name of.

“We’ve been having bridge night for years,” Nikita said. “That’s the same deck from the first night.”

They all roared with laughter. All except one.

“Are you OK, Aaric?” Mrs. Claus asked. “You’re white as snow.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Can we talk?”

Aaric and Mrs. Claus retreated to the privacy of Nikita’s kitchen, while the rest of the party continued their conversation in the main room.

Aaric’s hand trembled as he attempted to drink from the cup of actual tea that Mrs. Claus placed poured for him. She sat across from him and took a long sip from her own cup.

“What is it, Aaric? What did you find out?”

“I’m sorry to be abrupt with this,” he said. “But I honestly don’t know how to ease into it.”

“Go ahead.”

“What do you know about immortality? The Christmas kind that both you and Santa have.”

She withdrew a little, switching her attention to the tea in her cup. She was choosing her words carefully, or deciding whether to even answer at all, Aaric couldn’t tell. Finally, she nodded, as if coming to a decision.

“Kristof was barely sixteen when he became Santa,” she began. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t see what happened and whenever I asked, and I stopped asking hundreds of years ago, he’d just tell me he was chosen by the Christmas Spirit. He spoke about it like it was an actual being.” She smirked and took a long drink of her tea. “But I do know one thing: he wasn’t immortal then.”

The knot in Aaric’s stomach tightened. After reading Hael’s research, he was really hoping the immortality thing was out of Santa’s hands. If Christmas didn’t make him immortal, what did? He kept his thoughts to himself and allowed Mrs. Claus to speak at her own pace.

“He played the role of Santa as a mortal for roughly thirty years before it became really difficult. Even though he had Christmas Magic to aid him, it didn’t do anything for his aging body. It worried him, you know? Not that he’d have to stop, he never would have. He probably would have died one Christmas eve trapped in a kid’s chimney.” She chuckled. “It was never that. It was the fear that when he went, there would be no one else. That would be it for Christmas.”

Aaric grabbed a sugar cooking from the plate in the centre of the table. He didn’t eat it, just stared at it while he digested everything Mrs. Claus was saying.

“So he did something about it.”

Aaric didn’t take his eyes off the cookie. “What did he do?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. He went out one night and came back…different. Not in a bad way. He had more energy, he was joyous. He was the Kris I remembered. He never aged after that. A year later, Misha told me the same thing happened to Hael.”

“And you?”

“It took him twenty years before he passed it onto me.” She ran her right thumb over her wedding ring. “He asked me if it was what I wanted and I’ll admit, it took some convincing. But he told me he couldn’t lose me. So I said ‘yes’.”

Aaric finally looked back to her, into her eyes. “Do you ever regret it?”

“It’s been fifteen hundred years. I’ve thought about dying many times, I’ve even said ‘no’ some years just to ask him to give it back again a year later. But every night, when he crawls into bed with me, kisses me, and I feel that warmth…the doubts fade. I’ll be here as long as he needs me.”

Aaric reached over and placed his hand onto Mrs. Claus’ and squeezed.

“We all love you,” he said. “Father may be the legend, but Christmas would fall apart without you.”

She lifted both of their hands and kissed the back of his.

“I get why he likes you so much,” she smiled.

Aaric smiled back and pushed himself up from the table.

“I need to get some sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

The two of them walked back to the living room where the others laughed and a new bottle of wine replaced the old one.

“I’d tell you you didn’t have to do this,” Mrs. Claus said. “But I know you know that already.”

Aaric shrugged. “What else am I going to do in the off-season?”

“Well you could have a little fun, you know” she joked. “Meet someone. There are many eligible bachelors and bachelorettes in the North Pole.”

Aaric laughed. “That’s never been my thing. Have a good night.”

“You too, Aaric.”

But he couldn’t leave. He stood with his hand on the doorknob. Something she had said was nagging at him. Just once sentence.

“Aaric? Are you OK?”

“You said you’ve said ‘no’ some years. What did you mean by that?”

“Well, it’s not permanent,” she said. “He renews it every year.” She blushed slightly. “He told me the first time that it needed to be done with a kiss. But I’ve never seen him kiss Hael. He was just being cheeky.”

“When does he do it?”

“Every December 23rd.”

Tomorrow.

**

Aaric stared at the ceiling above his bed. He hadn’t changed out of his clothes and the blankets were still tucked into the mattress. He’d spent the walk home going over the story Mrs. Claus had told him. But that wasn’t what was keeping him up.

It was the words from the books he had read. The history and theories behind immortality. They all had different methods, different origins, but one thing in common: balance. For life to exist, there needed to be death. We were given enough energy to live one life, that was it. Which is why every story, every piece of lore, came back to the same thing: human sacrifice.

For Aaric’s entire life he had unconditional faith in Santa Claus. It didn’t matter what happened, he knew Santa would do what was right. He was the epitome of good in the world.  Now, that faith was gone. And that shook him to his very core.

“Oh, Father,” he whispered. “What have you done?”

PROMPT 6 – MUSIC PLAYS IN THE DISTANCE

The workshop was calmer than an outsider would expect. It wasn’t a mad rush to get everything completed, with screaming and flailing arms. The reality was, elves had been doing Christmas for a very long time, they were pretty good at it. There was excitement, of course. But everything was well under control.

Madalaine greeted Aaric as he entered. She was much more confident than when he saw her a few days earlier.

“We need to get you a hobby, Aaric,” she said with a smile.

Aaric forced a smile back. His primary goal that morning was was to assure everyone that nothing was wrong.

“I’m thinking about joining Mrs. Claus’ bridge club,” he chuckled.

Santa appeared behind Aaric and placed his hand on his shoulder. Aaric’s heart sank and his stomach bubbled with dread. He knew he’d run into Santa eventually but thought he’d prepared himself. He wasn’t even close.

“Between the three of us,” Santa said. “I don’t think a whole lot of bridge playing happens at those meetups. Mrs. Claus came home with flushed cheeks last night and went straight to bed.” He let out a deep belly laugh with a full on ‘ho ho ho’.

Madalaine laughed along with him and Aaric managed to pull off a convincing chuckle as well. But the encounter only made him feel worse.

“How are things?” Santa asked Madalaine.

“Tip top,” she said with her chin up high. “Everything is on schedule. No issues to note.”

“How’s the battery supply?”

“All good. I put in an extra order around Halloween. Trust me, I won’t be making that mistake again. I thought Caellach was going to fry me last time.”

Caellach’s head popped up from behind a pile of wires and game consoles on her table.

“You get batteries?” she yelled.

“Yes, yes, I got batteries.”

Caellach smiled and disappeared once again.

“I’m proud of you, Madalaine,” Santa said. And he was. Aaric could see it in his eyes. “You’ve really stepped up since Hael…” He stopped as if trying to find the best words to use.

Madalaine beamed. “Thank you, Father.”

She gave them both a nod before practically skipping back to the floor, leaving Aaric and Santa alone.

“How are you, my boy?” he asked.

“I’m good,” Aaric lied. “I’m taking a break from the investigation today. It’s been affecting me a little more than I’ve let on. Too much darkness this close to Christmas.”

“I’m glad. But I have some information that may allow you to put the whole thing to rest. But if you’d like to wait until after Christmas, that’s totally fine.” He paused a moment. “I also wanted to say that I know you spoke with Mrs. Claus last night and it’s OK.”

Aaric was caught off-guard. Of course there was a chance Mrs. Claus would tell Santa they spoke, he just really hoped she wouldn’t.

“We can talk about it now,” Aaric said.

Santa nodded. “Let’s speak in private.”

He led Aaric to Santa’s office. It wasn’t much, just a small room off to the side of the workshop. He never spent much time in there. All his office work was done at home. But every now and then he needed a place to think.

Aaric stepped inside and Santa slid the glass wall shut behind them.

“I had Dr. Nikolai look at Hael’s body,” he began. “I mean he’s no coroner, but he’s the closest thing we have.”

Dr. Nikolai was one of the few elves that didn’t feel like toy-making was his thing. He tried, and wasn’t horrible at it, but it didn’t really give him the joy that it brought the rest of them. He wanted something else, he wanted to help. He scheduled a meeting with Santa and told him he wanted to be a doctor. So Santa set it up. He sent him to the human world to attend medical school. He was the first doctor the North Pole ever had.

“What did he find out?” Aaric asked.

“Hael wasn’t stabbed. He wasn’t murdered. The markings on his chest were claw marks. There were also fractals of ice found embedded in the tissue. Dr. Nikolai believes it was an abominal attack.”

“Abominal?” Aaric nearly laughed. “There hasn’t been an abominal around here in over a hundred years.”

“It’s true,” Santa said. “But there was a time when they were rampant. They were a constant threat and I had to bargain with them to keep the area clear. It’s not unbelievable that one, or more, have come back.”

“I guess…”

“We could be looking at something bigger than we thought, Aaric. We could be looking at an uprising.”

They sat in silence for a few moments while Aaric digested everything.

“You have to admit,” Santa said. “It’s more believable than a murder. Look at where we are. Nobody here has a bad bone in their body.”

“You’re not wrong,” Aaric said. He wasn’t sure he was buying it, so he changed the subject.

“You said you spoke with Mrs. Claus. I’m sorry I went behind your back. I just had questions and I didn’t really know who to ask.”

Santa smiled. “You can always talk to me, Aaric. About anything. If not, then my wife is a good second choice.”

He gave Aaric a smile that made him want to forget everything that had happened. Santa had changed in Aaric’s head. He was starting to become something horrifying. But there, sitting in front of him, was the Santa that he’d always loved. The anger he had woken up with was fading away to guilt.

“I will,” he said. “From now on I’ll come to you.”

Santa stood and opened his arms. Aaric fell into his embrace, breathing in the warmth. They held each other for what felt like an eternity but still wasn’t long enough. As always, Aaric was the first to pull away.

Santa brushed a tear from the corner of his eye.

“What she said was true,” he said. “Everything she told you about our immortality was accurate. It’s temporary, and I renew it each year. It might be why I’m taking Hael’s death so hard. If I had renewed it a few days earlier, he would still be alive.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Aaric said. “But why didn’t you tell anyone? Why is it such a secret?”

“It wasn’t originally. All the first generation toy-makers knew how it worked. They saw our transition from mortal to…whatever we are now. After them, it just didn’t matter. It’s not that I was keeping it from anyone. They just assumed it was part of the package and it was just easier that way.”

“But I have to ask, father. How?”

Santa shook his head. He wasn’t surprised by the question.

“I’m sorry, Aaric. But I have to keep that one between me and The Christmas Spirit. Push that question out of your mind.”

Santa moved to the glass wall and slid it open, indicating their meeting was done.

“But…”

“Just relax, my boy. You’ve been through a lot. You don’t need to make more burdens for yourself. Why not help out on the floor?”

**

“That’s going to dry out your brush,” Kadinsky said, snapping Aaric out of his own thoughts.

He wasn’t sure how long the head of the painting department was standing over him, but he was right: the paint on the brush had definitely dried out.

“Sorry,” Aaric mumbled. He looked down at the empty table in front of him. “Was I even painting anything?”

Kadinsky chuckled. “You started to. But Karol took it from you about ten minutes ago.”

The elf to Aaric’s left flashed him a quick smile before returning to her work.

Aaric laughed. “I’m somewhere else today.”

Kadinsky patted him on the pack. “It’s ok! Go grab a hot chocolate. It’ll wake you up a little. Extra sprinkles for the extra bit of Christmas Cheer.”

Aaric handed Kadinsky the brush. “I think I will.”

He’d come to a few conclusions during his painting session. It didn’t matter how Hael died, not anymore. It very well could have been an abominal, in fact it probably was. What really mattered was Hael’s research. The dark magic. The sacrifices. The fact that an abominal decided to break resurface now, of all times, was awfully coincidental.

Santa wanted him to drop it, but he couldn’t. He needed to know more. Mostly, he wanted proof that the nagging feeling polluting his mind was wrong.

Aaric grabbed two hot chocolates, with extra red and green sprinkles, from the cafe. He carried them through the workshop and slid one onto the table in from of Caellach.

Her eyes slowly rose from her work, to the cup, then up to Aaric.

“Hi, Aaric.” Her voice was a mix of playfulness and suspicion. “Is this for me?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

Aaric smiled. “Just being nice.”

She took a long drink, covering her nose in whip cream. She eyed him a second more before getting back to work.

“Watcha doin’?” he asked.

“Finalizing these game consoles.”

“I thought you finished those last week.”

He picked up one of her longer screwdrivers and tumbled it in his fingers.

“I did,” she said. “Now I’m improving them. The schematics the company sends over are inadequate. The cooling system is garbage. They’ll die a couple of days after the warranty expires. We can’t have that. Anything marked ‘from Santa’ needs to be extra special.”

Caellach, like all elves, took a lot of pride in her work. It was always about the end product for her. She took the most standard builds and brought them a step further.

“How about that drone?” he asked. “How’s that going?”

She sighed. “It’s on hold until after Christmas. I just don’t have the time to debug the heat shields.”

Aaric laughed. “Heat shields?”

“I want it to go into space,” she said matter of factly. “But the heat shields are bugging out and I haven’t been able to get it to switch from the copter blades to thrusters when it detects zero gravity.”

“You’re a dangerous elf, Caellach,” he joked. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Caellach blushed but continued working.

“You mind if I take a look at it?” Aaric asked. “I’m really bored. I hate not having anything to do.”

“I get that,” she said. “I’m probably the only one who wishes it was still November. I’m not looking forward to the offseason. I don’t do well.”

Aaric picked up on the sadness hidden in the last few words.

“You got me,” he said. “You’re not doing well, you hit me up. We’ll keep each other busy. Maybe we can get drunk with the bridge club.”

She laughed. It was become obvious that the truth behind the bridge club wasn’t a secret.

Caellach pulled open the bottom drawer and pulled out the drone.

“Be careful with it!”

**

Aaric hurried down a long hallway towards to sound of music.

“Sorry, Caellach,” he said as he unscrewed the bottom of he drone.

It wasn’t the toy he was interested in. It was the tiny GPS chip inside. Another one of her special projects. The GPS systems that came out of the workshop were infinitely better than the retail ones. The range was unlimited and anything equipped with them could be tracked anywhere in the world.

He plucked out the chip and slid it into his pocket along with the controller. The rest of the drone was left in the hallway. He promised himself he’d be back for it.

The garage was small with music blaring from a tiny stereo. A male elf was hunched over a humongous red, white, and gold sleigh. The sleigh shone in the light and hovered a few inches off the floor.

“Really?” Aaric asked. “Christmas music?”

“What?” Tank laughed. “It’s catchy.”

He stood to greet Aaric. He had a rag in his hand and a bottle of wax at his feet.

“Sure,” Aaric said. “But there aren’t enough songs about elves.”

“The Barenaked Ladies one is really good.” He tossed Aaric a rag that he pulled from behind his back.

“What’s this for?”

“I heard you’ve been making your rounds, looking for something to do. Figured you could help me wax this thing before Father takes it on his test run.”

Aaric nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

The two worked in silence for a while before Tank spoke up.

“It’s the Hael thing, right?”

“Huh?”

“It’s why you’re so messed up. Trying to distract yourself?”

Aaric shrugged. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Tank nodded. “This is the fifth coat of wax I’ve put on this thing. So I get it.”

When Tank wasn’t looking, Aaric wedged the GPS chip behind one of the gold patterns on the side of the sleigh.

“Thanks for letting me help,” he said.

PROMPT 7 – A BETRAYAL

Aaric was three hot chocolates in before the tiny dot on the GPS controller moved. It was subtle at first, so much so he wasn’t sure it was moving at all. Then, the dot disappeared and the entire map scrolled across the screen with a blur. It stopped over a small town and the dot blinked on the outskirts, near a forest.

Aaric touched his nose and left the North Pole once again.

He nearly choked on the thick, hot air that invaded his lungs like tar when he landed.  It took a few moments to catch his breath. He didn’t often travel to tropical places but when he did, it was never pleasant.

He was way over-dressed but feared the sun would scorch his skin if he uncovered it.

He noticed the sleigh right away — hiding behind a row of palm trees. The reindeer were missing, likely frolicing nearby. Santa liked to give them time get used to climates outside of home before Christmas Eve. Less of a shock to their system. And they always came back when called.

Aaric followed the walking path into town. Figuring out where Santa headed was the more difficult part. It would have been much more convenient to have put the GPS somewhere on Santa’s person but that would have been way too risky.

It was late afternoon and most people were just getting off of work, crowding the streets in a panic to finish off their Christmas shopping. He maneuvered his way through the crowd, hoping he’d find a place to start looking.

A woman accompanied by two small children stepped out of a mall and onto the sidewalk in front of him. The two boys were practically bouncing with excitement.

“Do you think he’ll really bring it?” the younger of the two asked.

“He’s Santa,” replied the older brother. “Of course he will.”

The mom smiled. “You still have to be good. It’s not Christmas yet Santa can quickly move you over to the naughty list. I’d just have to make a simple phone call!”

Aaric rolled his eyes before ducking into the mall. So many parents used Santa as a tool to enforce good behavior. It was the biggest pet peeve of anyone involved in the production of Christmas.

The mall was even crazier than the streets. Stores had lines several feet long outside of their doors. Every window was plastered with signage advertising sale after sale. Another thing that bugged Aaric. Christmas sales were the worst. Most chains just jacked up the prices months before and then sold them for the original price around Christmas and called it a “deal”.

The commercialization of his beloved holiday disappointed him but he’d accepted it years ago. It was just the way things were.

It wasn’t long before he found Santa. He sat upon a candy cane throne near an elaborate, plastic castle with fake snow. It wasn’t the real Santa, of course. A local with a passion for the holiday and a desire to make children happy.

Sure, the retail side had forgotten the meaning of Christmas, but there were still people who upheld the traditions. Aaric had gotten good at picking out who was naughty or nice and the man on the plastic throne with the fake beard was pure of heart.

But he wasn’t who Aaric was looking for.

The Santa flashed Aaric a smile and he gave him a nod of approval. Another child hopped up onto his knee and he let out a ‘ho ho ho’ that rivaled the original.

Aaric left the mall and resumed his search on the street. He knew Santa had to be close, he wouldn’t have gone too far from his sleigh.

He turned a corner and discovered a hospital where a tall, thin man placing the last few letters on a sign before closing the plastic case.

“Today Only! A surprise visit from Santa.”

This had to be the Santa he was looking for.

“Excuse me,” Aaric said. “Could you tell me where in the hospital Santa is visiting?”

The man smiled brightly. “Of course. He’s in the children’s’ ward.”

Aaric’s stomach twisted but he shook the feeling off. Santa may have gone down a dark path, but he would never hurt a child. Right?

“When did he arrive?”

“Not long ago. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes.”

Aaric thanked him and hurried into the hospital, not acknowledging the Christmas greeting from the sign man.

The hospital was much less crowded than the mall. He looked to the reception desk but there was still a long line. He was about to release Christmas Magic but noticed the sign hanging from the ceiling which listed all of areas in the hospital with a coloured bar next to each one. The floor has stripes of the same colour, marking the path to the area you were looking for.

Aaric followed the green line. Urgency was building up inside him and before he knew it, he was running. He took a sharp corner and arrived at the children’s ward.

The hallway was lined with individual rooms that all seemed to be empty. But he could hear laughter coming from a room at the end with its double doors propped open.

The play room was buzzing with excited children holding candy canes and gifts like dolls and stuffed bears. He could almost taste the Christmas Joy and it made his heart flutter. Even when he was dealing with something so urgent, he was still weak to the happiness of children.

He scanned the room but Santa wasn’t there. A nurse was tidying up and approached him with a smile.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m looking for Santa.”

She looked him up and down and laughed. “Of course! I should have known by your outfit. Not a typical elf costume but I like it!”

Aairc straightened his favourite tunic and cleared his throat.

“Is he here?”

“You just missed him. But you could probably catch him on the third floor.”

“What’s on the third floor?”

“Palliative care,” she said.  “Santa insisted on seeing the ones who won’t be with us much longer.”

Aaric sprinted out of the room and towards the elevator he’d passed on his way there. That made way more sense. Santa would never hurt an innocent, Aaric was pretty sure of that, but if he had to sacrifice someone, someone who was on the brink of death was a much easier pill to swallow.

But that didn’t mean it was ok. Nobody had the right to take a life. Not even Santa Claus.

The hallway was much like the one in the children’s ward. Long with doors on either side. A single nurse sorted pills on a cart while humming to herself.

Aaric’s eyes scanned the hallway but there was no way of telling where Santa was, if he was even still there, and the rooms continued around the corner for who knew how long.

He needed to do something fast. He needed to clear those rooms.

There was a small, red box on the wall beside him. White letters read “IN CASE OF FIRE, BREAK GLASS.”

He pulled it without hesitation.

The sound of ringing bells was deafening and Aaric was forced to cover his ears. Tiny metal devices in the ceiling opened up, spraying water in an effort to extinguish the non-existing fire.

The nurse dropped the pills and ran into the closest room. Doctors, nurses, and other staff members arrived as if out of nowhere and, within seconds, the hallway was filled with people checking the rooms.

Through the crowd, Aaric saw Santa, standing at the end of the hallway. He was dripping wet. The glove of his right hand was missing and blood dripped from his fingers onto the floor.

The fear engulfed Aaric’s chest like fire as he gazed upon the monster Santa had become. Darkness as black as coal replaced his soft, blue eyes. The darkness followed the wrinkles around his eyes like webs and branched off into his cheeks — disappearing behind his beard. His jaw hung lower than it should have but was already returning to its normal position.

Aaric couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Everyone continued their business, rushing about as if they couldn’t see either of them.

The darkness faded from Santa’s eyes, but instead of kindness, there was only disappointment. Betrayal.

“Father…” he started.

But Santa only shook his head and rode the wind away.

PROMPT 8 – DEFEAT

Aaric remained in the hospital until everything had calmed down. It didn’t take the fire department long to establish that it was a false alarm. Once everyone went back to their normal duties, Aaric began his own search.

Nobody had reacted as though anyone in the rooms had been injured, giving Aaric hope that he had been on time. But Santa’s Christmas Magic was very powerful so he had to check for himself.

He went from room to room looking for anything out of the ordinary. All was calm. The patients were a little shaken but otherwise unharmed. Then he came to the final room and found blood on the door handle.

Aaric used the sleeve of his tunic to clean it off before opening the door and stepping inside.

The room was filled with noisy machines that beeped and hissed, each one tasked with prolonging the life of the pale, skeletal man in the bed.

The man was the sickest Aaric had encountered of the floor. He slept soundly, his chest rising and falling in sync with one of the machines. Upon first glance, he appeared untouched, but Aaric soon saw the blood on the sheets around the man’s chin. He pulled the blankets down and gasped.

A circular symbol painted with blood spanned the entirety of the man’s bony chest. The skin was undamaged so Aaric could only assume it was Santa’s blood. It would explain why he was bleeding in the hallway.

Aaric recognized the symbol but didn’t know what it meant. It was in one of the books Hael had been reading. He didn’t know which one and cursed himself for not taking notes. But it was enough to confirm Aaric’s suspicions.

Santa was sacrificing people to retain his immortality. Aaric had stopped him this time, but would he try again?

Unlike Santa, Aaric had to be outside to catch the Arctic wind home. He rushed down the stairs towards the exit, checking the GPS as he did. He was relieved to see that the dot had returned to the North Pole. He shoved the monitor back into his pocket before opening the door and taking the wind home.

**

Aaric arrived just outside the workshop. He had no idea what he was going to do next, only that he needed to keep moving. He yanked the door open and attempted to step inside but was immediately shoved back out.

Madalaine blocked the doorway, eyebrows narrowed and teeth bared.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

“Madalaine, I don’t have time for this. I need to see father.”

“Keep that word out of your mouth,” she hissed. “You don’t get to call him that. Not anymore.”

Aaric stumbled on his words. “What’s going on?”

“Father came to me. He said you’ve betrayed us. You’ve betrayed Christmas. He told me not to let you in. That you were involved in Hael’s death.”

“Hael’s death? You don’t understand.” Aaric’s words were becoming more frantic. “Fa-Santa is…he’s…different.”

How was he supposed to tell her?

“He’s what?” She crossed her arms.

“I just need to talk to him. I need to…”

She groaned in frustration. “Leave, Aaric. If Father wants to talk, he’ll find you.”

Aaric froze at those words, realization setting in. She didn’t intend for them to be a threat, but all Aaric could think about was Hael’s body sprawled out in the snow. Santa would find him, alright. Just like he found Hael.

“Who else knows?” he asked.

“Just me. He’s trying to keep it quiet. It’s the last thing we need right now.”

Aaric nodded. “I’ll explain later,” he said. “Don’t give up on me yet.”

He turned and ran from the workshop towards the residences. Madalaine called out to him but he ignored her. He needed to find somewhere to hide until he could figure out what to do next.

The sun faded and Aaric found himself standing on the doorstep of the only person he thought would help him. He steadied his breath before knocking.

The door swung open a moment later, revealing Misha’s surprised face.

“Aaric?”

“It wasn’t an accident,” he blurted out between breaths.

Misha’s face hardened. Of course she knew what he meant, yet she still considered his words a moment before inviting him in.

They sat together at the dining table, neither of them touching the tea Misha had poured. She kept silent while Aaric told her everything. He told her more than he should have but once he started talking, it just poured out. Like water behind a broken dam. He had so much he needed to say, so much that had been nagging at him. It wasn’t until he finished that he realized he’d been crying.

But Misha didn’t say anything. She didn’t even change her expression, just stared at him in silence long enough for him to regret saying anything at all. He’d pushed her over the edge. He felt so stupid. Out of everyone in the North Pole, he’d chosen to go to the grieving widow.

Finally, she spoke.

“You can sleep in my room,” she said.

Aaric didn’t understand. “You don’t want to talk about it?”

“I haven’t been able to sleep there since Hael died. It’s too empty. So I’ll sleep on the couch and you take the bed.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

Tears formed at the corners of Misha’s eyes. “Good night, Aaric.”

**

Aaric climbed into the bed of his late brother and pulled the covers up to his chin in a desperate attempt to find comfort.

He had become a shell of what he once was – destroyed completely by what had happened at the hospital. He was broken, alone, and truly defeated. Exhaustion threatened to take over and he let the sleep win.

He’d barely drifted off before he was torn awake by Misha’s scream of terror.

PROMPT 9 – AN UNSUSPECTED ALLY

The abominable stood over Misha, bared teeth and blood oozing from its icicle claws. Misha was on her back, eyes blank and chest torn open. Aaric knew her heart had stopped beating because he could see it.

It was the first time Aaric had seen an abominal in person. It stood seven feet tall, thin-framed, and made of ice. Bright red veins seemed to glow beneath its surface, branching from a pulsing heart in the middle of its chest. It glared at Aaric.

“Don’t make this difficult,” it said. “I do not enjoy it.”

It’s voice was deep a existed only in Aaric’s head.

“Father sent you?”

“It does not matter. It will end with you.”

Aaric searched the room, trying to find an escape. The abominal blocked the front door so that idea was out. Behind him, in the bedroom, was a single window. It was closed and abominals were fast, but it was his only shot.

He bolted back towards the bedroom but could hear the monster behind him. Hear its feet hitting the floor like glass. With every step Aaric took, it took two. He managed to make it to the window but was torn away before he could even attempt to open it.

The abominal’s claws dug into his back and ripped open his flesh as it grabbed him and tossed him across the bedroom. Aaric slammed into the brick wall, his head hit the surface filling his vision with a flash of light. He was already slipping in and out of darkness as the monster approached him for the finishing blow.

Aaric tried to stand but managed to just roll over onto his back. The abominal rammed its claws into his chest and lifted him up off the floor until they were face to face.

“I am sorry,” the monster said. “I am just the weapon.”

Aaric slammed his hand against the monsters arm, trying with everything he had to dislodge it, to free himself. But his strength depleted quickly and the abominal didn’t budge.

“Goodbye, toymaker.”

Aaric’s vision blurred. Reality faded. He could only hear the sound of his heart pounding, slow and uneven. He faded in and out of consciousness.

There was a blur behind the abominal; a body moving towards him at inhuman speed. The flash of a face he recognized. Nikita?

Darkness.

Then, the abominal’s arm exploded in shards of ice and waves of blood.

Darkness.

More bodies moved in. A group of women. He recognized them but their names existed in a world where he wasn’t dying. One in the back wore a bright red robe, the hood hiding her face.

Darkness.

The woman in the robe raised her hand, drawing the attention of the abominal. It lifted its arms and bared inch-long fangs at her. The woman’s hood fell back revealing Mrs. Claus’ face and curly hair. Her mouth was moving and before the abominal could touch her, it exploded.

Darkness.

Mrs. Claus palm was pressed against Aaric’s chest. She was saying something but he couldn’t hear her. She was screaming. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The thumping of his heart stopped.

Then the final darkness. The one he knew he wouldn’t come back from.  But before he was gone, before he left the world behind, that final second when everything slowed down, he swore he could smell candy canes.

PROMPT 10 – CONFRONTATION

Aaric woke to the sound of whispers. Mrs. Claus and the rest of the Bridge Club sat around the dining table, drinking from tea cups. Atop the table was a white sheet tied tightly around the ankles, hips, and neck of the late Misha Kuznetsov.

His muscles resisted when he tried to move. Stiff but not hurting. He scooched himself up into a seated position, his back against the wall.

“He’s awake,” someone said.

Mrs. Claus appeared at his side and kneeled next to him.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

He unbuttoned his tunic. His chest was covered in blood but it only sat on the surface. There were no wounds.

“Better than I should,” he said.

Mrs. Claus smiled. “That was the last of my immortality,” she said. “So you’re welcome.”

Aaric asked for her hand and when she placed it in his, he kissed it. “Thank you, mother.”

Her smile faded. “What’s happening, Aaric?”

His joints groaned as he stood.

“Nothing good.”

“Did Kris have anything to do with this?”

Aaric nodded. “I’m sorry. Father has gotten himself involved in something dark. I need to stop him or talk to him at least. He’s killing people, mother.”

Mrs. Claus winced at the words but she nodded. “I think a part of me always knew it wasn’t right. But it seemed ok. Because of who he was and what he did.”

Aaric shuffled over to the table and accepted a cup handed to him by one of the ladies. He took a sip and let the vodka trickle down his throat and ease his discomfort.

“How did you know?” he asked. “About the abominal.”

“Misha called me,” she said. “Just after you arrived. She was worried about you and needed guidance. I went outside and saw them. An entire army.”

The blood rushed from Aaric’s face. “What?”

“I believe my husband is making it look like an invasion. Covering his tracks for Hael’s, and your, death.”

“But how many others will die?”

“That’s why I called for backup,” she smiled and the women at the table laughed.

“I’m impressed,” Aaric said.

“We’re just getting started,” she said. “Give us a couple of hours and they’ll be gone.”

“Really? There’s only five of you. Against an army?”

Nikita laughed. “Who do you think got rid of them last time?”

“Father said he negotiated.”

“Oh he did,” Nikita said. “‘Leave or my wife will kill you.’”

Mrs. Claus blushed. “We’ll take care of them. You go talk to my husband.”

Aaric shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “They won’t let me in the workshop. I’ve been exiled.”

“Don’t worry about the workshop,” Mrs. Claus said, drinking her own cup of Vodka. “He’s at the house. You can find him in his study, preparing for tonight.”

“Tonight?” Aaric looked out at the rising sun. It was already Christmas eve.

**

Aaric kept to the shadows and back lanes in order to avoid the numerous abominals prowling the area. Residents hid in their homes and the toymakers remained in the workshop, likely oblivious to anything that was happening.

They destroyed anything they found outside but never made any attempt to harm anyone. Santa had likely ordered them to cause a scene and intimidate, but not touch anyone. Except Aaric of course.

Despite their telepathic speech, they didn’t seem to have the ability to jump into Aaric’s head whenever they wanted. He had expected them to swarm him the moment he stepped outside. Instead he was able to creep his way through the houses and to the modest-sized, red and white cottage at the top of the hill.

He could have easily slipped in through the front door. It wasn’t locked. Most homes in the North Pole didn’t even have locks. But he was certain he’d be spotted if he did. Either by Santa or his assistant Dussan.

Instead, Aaric went to the back of the house, to the back door that led to the kitchen.

The door opened without sound and Aaric slid inside, leaving it open behind him to avoid any additional noise.

The kitchen was a mess. Bowls covered in batter piled high in the sink and the counters were covered in cookie dough and powdered sugar. The aroma of cookies in the oven filled the room and made Aaric’s mouth water. He hadn’t eaten much lately, nothing at all in the last day or so, and he was starting to feel it.

There was a note taped to the oven that read “Bridge Meeting. Please take out by 7:30.”

The clock on the stove read 7:32 so Aaric grabbed the oven mits from the counter and pulled out the tray of sugar cookies before sliding them onto the stovetop to cool. It was the least he could do for Mrs. Claus after she’d saved his life. Once the cookies were in place, he snatched a tree-shaped one from the pan and dropped it into his pocket.

The study was on the other side of the house. Aaric had only been there a handful of times but could still find it quite easily. The layout wasn’t complex and the study was always easy to find. All you needed to do was follow the sound of the crackling fire.

The door was open a crack but Aaric didn’t touch it. Part of him wanted to turn and run. How did it come to this? His entire life had been torn to pieces in just days. But there was no way back. He had to see it through. He needed to put an end to everything.

It could have been worse. Santa didn’t know he was coming. He had the element of surprise. The upperhand. The…

“Just come in, Aaric,” Santa’s voice jingled from the other side of the door.

Aaric sighed. One step behind again. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Though it was bright outside, the office was quite dark. The curtains were closed and the only light was from the roaring fire behind the desk where Santa sat. He worse his glasses, not something he did often, and chewed on the back of a pen. He didn’t greet Aaric, instead he continued looking over The List. He always double checked it on Christmas eve right before heading out. He was near the bottom and the rest of the paper curled on the floor in front of the desk.

“Father,” Aaric started. “Things have gotten out of hand.”

“Indeed they have, my boy.” He made one final checkmark on the list before putting it down. He took off his glasses and let them fall to his desk before rubbing his eyes with both hands.

He looked old. His head was balding and his skin was pale and wrinkled. The hairs of his beard were stained brown instead of snow-white. He turned to Aaric, his gloved hands folded and resting on the desk.

“Do you know what it means to be Santa, Aaric?” he asked.

“Maybe not entirely,” Aaric answered. “But I know what it doesn’t mean. And what I saw at the hospital last night had nothing to do with Christmas.”

It wasn’t until he spoke those words that he realized how angry he was. He wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the hunger, or the very likely possibility that he’d gone mad, but a fire built up inside him.

“It’s not what you think.”

“No? Then what is it, Father?”

“It’s…necessary.”

“Why?!” Aaric spat. “So you can live forever?”

“Let me tell you a story.” Santa rose from his desk. He looked at Aaric with the kind of confidence that only centuries of life could bring. It was then that Aaric saw how baggy his suit was.

Aaric held back a gasp. What he saw before him was not the monster at the hospital, it wasn’t the jolly man he saw the day before, it wasn’t Santa Claus. It was an old, dying man who could barely stand. Aaric’s anger took a backseat to the fear that was taking over.

“My last Christmas as a mortal was the scariest night of my life. The moment I left the North Pole, I knew I didn’t have it in me. But I had to do it. Who else would? I didn’t get stuck in that chimney like the rumours say. I got down just fine. But inside the house, standing in the ash of the extinguished fire, I felt a heaviness on my chest.

“I collapsed right there, unable to breathe. Every attempt I made just filled my lungs with fire. It was the end for me, I was sure of it.  Santa Claus was going to die. But I didn’t.”

Aaric couldn’t remember when he had sat into the chair a chair near the desk, but he was thankful he did because his legs had gone completely numb.

“I hovered on the brink of death, in purgatory, where the air buzzed and nothing else moved. I’ll never forget it. I couldn’t hear anything because sound no longer existed. The lines of the world blurred like I was viewing it all through water. And in front of me, laying in the fireplace, eyes open and mouth agape, was my own body. The sight didn’t bother me, not like it should have. Instead, my only thoughts were of the houses I didn’t yet visit. The children who wouldn’t receive their gifts. It wasn’t the death of myself that I feared, but the death of Christmas.”

“But Father.” Aaric somehow managed to speak. “That’s the fate of everyone. We all must die. You can’t blame yourself for death.”

Santa smirked. “That’s exactly what I told myself before leaving that night. But it’s hard to keep the same optimism when it actually happens.”

He reached for a log among the pile of wood next to the fireplace. He studied it for a moment before tossing it into the flames.

“As much as it felt like I was alone,” he continued. “Booted out of the world of the living and left to wander, or whatever my fate was, I wasn’t. There was someone else in the room with me. Someone moving through the blurry world. A tall figure that looked too human to be so. It walked towards me, looked right at me in acknowledgement, and then kept going. It’s been so long that the details of his face have withered away. But there are two things that I’ll never forget: the fear I felt when I saw him, and the name of the child that he carried to my body.”

Aaric’s breath caught in his throat and the two sat in silence for a moment.

“Little Cindy,” he said finally. “Six years old. Things were a little different back then. Nobody wrote letters, I relied on Christmas Magic to tell me what they needed. And all she needed was a friend. A had a doll in my bag, sewn by one of the best dollmakers to ever bless my workshop. It would have made her morning.”

Santa stared into the fire, letting the shadows of the flames dance over his face.

“What he did to her…” he continued. “I tried to stop it. I tried to save her. But we were in two different worlds.

“When it was over, I was back in my body. I was young. As young as I was when I started out. I didn’t look younger, you understand?  But I could feel it. I had the spark and strength of youth. And there was Little Cindy, sprawled on the floor and drained of life. I placed her doll in her arms, and retreated up the chimney.”

“You left her there?”

“What was I supposed to do?”

Aaric had no idea. He couldn’t even imagine being put through something like that.

“I was changed. Not just the immortality. There was something else inside of me. Something dark. New thoughts, new instincts. I knew how to pass my immortality on, which I did to Hael a year later. But it wasn’t until I granted the same gift to my wife twenty years after that I realized it was fading.

“I was aging again. Growing weak. Tired. And I became afraid. Death was catching up to me, and I couldn’t let it. Not again. The world needed me. The children needed me.

“Renewing the spell had become one of those instincts. I knew exactly how to do it. But I swore I would never harm a child. Not like the monster had done. So I visited hospitals until I found a woman on her deathbed. I executed the ritual and she gave me enough to provide a year of life for Hael, Mrs. Claus, and me. That was all I needed. I repeated the same ritual once a year. One life taken so that three more may life. I was the only one who knew about it. The only one who had to live with the guilt.

“Then Hael threatened everything. He’d become curious in the origins of his immortality. He lost his trust in me. He feared what I was doing, just as you did, and pleaded with me to stop. I tried to explain it to him but he’d gone mad. His own research had driven him insane. I didn’t want to hurt him but I needed to stop him before he made a mistake. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. Which is why I called for the abominals. I didn’t have the courage to do it myself.

“All things considered, it didn’t matter.” He raised his arms, presenting what he’d become. “In the end, death has found me.”

The words pained Aaric. “I’m sorry, father. I…I just…I didn’t understand.”

“It’s ok. I don’t blame you. I wish I could tell you I’m ready. That I’ve been alive long enough.”

He looked to Aaric with tears streaming down his face.

“But I’m not. I’m terrified. For the first time in over 1,500 years, there will be no Santa Claus.”

Aaric stood, he moved to the old man in front of him.

“It’s not too late,” Aaric said.

Santa chuckled, his laughs interrupted by a series of coughs and wheezes. “Oh, it is, my boy. He said. I’ll barely make it into my sleigh.”

“No,” Aaric said. “A dying man gives you a year, a child: over twenty.”

He lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head.

“What are you saying?” Santa asked.

“What about the life of an elf?”

PROMPT 11 – SO THIS IS HOW IT ENDS

Santa stared at him in awe.

“What are you saying, Aaric?”

“Think of how many years you’d get. Fifty? A hundred? Santa would live, Christmas would go on, and nobody would have to die.”

“You would.”

“A worthy cause. I’ve dedicated my life to Christmas. It’s only fitting that I die for it.”

Santa shook his head, trying to dislodge the preposterous idea. “Stand up, Aaric. I’m not letting you do this.”

Aaric looked up at him. Santa stood a couple of feet away, his hand resting on his desk to keep him upright. His legs trembled violently.

“How about an agreement?” Aaric asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You sacrifice me. You regain life. But you promise me that I will be the last one. Find a way to pass the legacy on. Find another Santa. And then, when the time comes, let death take you. Then we can both rest.”

Santa’s mouth slowly closed, his lips were dry and cracked, he seemed to be aging before Aaric’s eyes.

“Do it, father,” Aaric said. “I understand the bigger picture now. It isn’t about you, or me, it’s about Christmas. With the time we have left, there isn’t another option. We need Santa.”

Santa nodded. “Ok,” he said. “You’ll be the last one. I swear to you.”

He supported himself as he limped across the room. When he got close enough, Aaric reached out a hand and supported him the rest of the way.

Santa let the loose glove fall from his skeletal hand and reached out to Aaric.

“You’ll have to…” he said, raising a finger. “I need blood from the ritual. I don’t have the strength to…”

“I’ve got it,” Aaric said. He pulled the pin from the  golden holly attached to his lapel.

The broach fell and clinked as it hit the floor. Aaric used the pin to prick Santa’s finger, releasing a tiny blob of cherry-red blood. Aaric unbuttoned his tunic and exposed his chest.

It took longer than it should have for Santa to draw the symbol needed for the ritual. The same symbol Aaric had found on the man at the hospital. The lines were wobbly and the circles were uneven, but Santa seemed satisfied.

He began to chant in a language Aaric had never heard before. The words chilled him and the darkness began returning to Santa’s eyes. Aaric looked away. He didn’t want to see the monster again.

He wondered what death was like. Would he experience the purgatory that Santa described? Or was that a trick put in place by the dark being that brought him back?

The chanting continued and Aaric could feel the heat building up in his chest. The symbol began to burn into his skin and he winced at the pain. He closed his eyes and turned his thoughts to something more pleasant. He thought about his first Christmas in the workshop. The day that he became a toy maker. He remembered Santa flying off with a sleigh full of toys that he helped make. He could still recall the names he was assigned. The lists. Caellach started on the same day as him, already pointing out inefficiencies in the brand new tech department.

He could feel his body changing. He was becoming lighter. Unrestricted. His spirit peeled away from the inside of its prison, pressing against the shell in an attempt to break free. He began to panic. Not because he was dying, but because he was not yet dead.

He was being called to. A silent voice that lived on the other side in the unknown. It begged for him and Aaric wanted nothing more than to go. But his physical form wouldn’t allow it. It wouldn’t release him and worse yet, it was pulling him back.

His soul was expanding, fitting back into the mold. He was weighed down once again, restrained and trapped. Alive.

Aaric opened his eyes. The burning had stopped but the markings were still there, freshly carved into his chest. There was no chanting. Instead, Santa was slumped over, unchanged, his face resting on the floor, and his eyes wide open.

“Father?”

Aaric grabbed at him, pulling him into his lap. He was so light and thin that Aaric was afraid he’d shatter. His limbs barely more than bones underneath the suit. There was no life left in him yet something danced in his eyes.

His pupils frosted over first, glistening like Christmas snow. It began to spread, covering the rest of his eyes and beyond, crystalizing Santa’s entire body. But it didn’t stop there. The frost engulfed Aaric’s hands where he touched the suit, and spreaded quickly up his arms. He tried to pull away but was too late.

The ice was quickly engulfing him, but it was warm. A familiar warmth that he’d only ever felt when in Santa’s arms. It travelled up his body, under his clothes and hair, not stopping until he was completely covered. And when there was nothing else to freeze, he absorbed it. It seeped into his skin and filled his veins like hot chocolate. His skin looked normal but he knew something else had moved into his body. He was no longer alone.

The ice that covered Santa cracked. It spread throughout the shell like webs until the entire thing exploded, filling the room with Christmas Snow and the aroma of candy canes.

Kristopher was gone but Santa was reborn.

PROMPT 12 – A COMFORTING FIRE

Aaric leaned against the mantle of the fireplace. The room was quiet except for the crackling wood. He added another log and the embers danced around him with a brief greeting before vanishing.

He knew he had to leave.There was work to be done. But he wanted one more moment of comfort before facing what awaited him.

“Aaric?”

Mrs. Claus stepped into the room, her boots drowning out the sound of the fire as they thumped against the floor. She had visible cuts on her face and arms and her clothes were torn in several places. She looked at the snow on the floor with horrid realization. She knew right away what happened. She allowed one sob to escape before swallowing the rest.

“I’m sorry…” Aaric started. But she rose her hand, cutting him off.

“We’ll talk about it after Christmas.” She stepped aside, leaving the doorway open. “Now go. They need you.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I don’t know how he did it.”

“Neither did he. Bu he figured it out. And so will you.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “When in doubt, look to the Christmas Spirit for guidance.”

Aaric felt the warmth swirl around inside him. She was right, he’d figure it out.

He kissed her on the cheek before walking out of the room, but hesitated in the hallway.

“I won’t do it, you know,” he said. “I’m sorry but I will not do what he did. Nobody will die so that I can live.”

“I’m glad,” she said.

“This means you’ll be mortal as well.”

“I know and I’m ready. I’ve lived for way too long.” She stepped into the hallway beside him. “I hope you still feel this way when you are old. When your bones are feeble and you can no longer keep up the tradition. What will you do then?”

“I’ll step down,” he said with confidence. “Nobody is meant to live forever. Not even Santa Claus.”

**

The snowflakes fell outside the workshop, never touching Aaric’s tunic. He took five deep breaths before pulling the door open and stepping inside. The entire workshop went silent.

Every elf stopped what they were doing, they sensed the change right away and stared at him, frozen. Aaric locked eyes with each one of them.

“After Christmas,” he said. “For now, let’s get the sleigh loaded.”

One by one they went back to work and it only took a few minutes for everything to get back to normal.

The sleigh sat at the back of the room, the wall pulled open to allow his takeoff. Hundreds of toys were already piled inside while more were still being added. Aaric looked it all over, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he looked back to see Caellach scowling at him.

“You owe me a drone,” she said. She tried to sound angry, or neutral, but her face beamed with excitement.

His laughter was short lived.  Someone else caught his attention. Someone hovering in the back of the room. Not an elf and far too human to be so. His presence made the Christmas Spirit stir inside of Aaric.

“Father?” Madalaine appeared next to him. Her outstretched hand held a red, velvet sack. “You’ll need this.”

Aaric took the bag in his hand. A light shimmered over it and the colour changed from red, to the blue of his tunic. He smiled.

“Not ‘father’,” he said. “Just ‘Santa’ will do.”