The Magic
of
Christmas
And the sequel, The Power of a Gift
Copyrights owned by Rebecca Besser, 2010/2011.
Art Copyrights owned by Justin T. Coons, 2010.
All rights reserved.
Smashwords Edition.
Table of Contents
THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS
THE POWER OF A GIFT
THE MAGIC OF CHRISTMAS
by Rebecca Besser
“Hammond, where is everyone? Only half the elves are here today.”
“They’re sick, Santa,” Hammond said with a heavy sigh, as he too looked out over the workshop floor. “Ever since Royce came back from cutting down Christmas trees with a strange bite, more and more elves are getting ill.”
Santa crossed his arms and frowned. “Will we still meet our quota for toys? I can’t have children going without presents.”
“If we work longer shifts we should be able to make it,” Hammond said, looking at a spread sheet that was on his clipboard. “It’s going to be close. If anyone else gets sick then we might fail.”
“Failure is not an option,” Santa said sternly. “Do what needs done. After Christmas everyone can rest.”
Hammond watched as Santa walked away. He hadn’t mentioned that the illness was the strangest he had ever seen. Santa didn’t need the extra stress right now, as he was still going over the Naughty & Nice List.
Turning toward the workshop, Hammond got on the intercom and announced the shifts that would be needed to ensure Christmas came on time.
~
“Hold him down!” Dr. Jim screamed. “If he bites anyone, they’ll get sick, too. We already have too many of these biters!”
“I’m trying, sir,” Milly said just before the patient broke loose and took a chunk out of her arm with his teeth. She screamed as blood shot everywhere, her eyes huge with pain and shock.
Dr. Jim growled and grabbed the patient’s arm, slamming it down on the table and securing it with tinsel rope. “Milly, go get that bandaged and then admit yourself to the Holly Wing. You’re now infected with the disease.”
Milly took a deep, shaky breath with tears in her eyes. She had seen what happened to the infected and didn’t want it to happen to her. Her eyes pleaded with Dr. Jim, begging him to let her stay, to say she wasn’t infected.
Dr. Jim took a deep breath and softened his tone. “Maybe we’ll figure something out. Maybe we’ll be able to stop it. But you know as well as I do that you’ll try to infect someone else once it takes hold. We have to be careful. Go and get looked after. I’ll come check on you when I get done here.”
Milly nodded, her tears sliding down her round, cheery cheeks that were already starting to pale. She scurried out through the brightly painted red and white striped doors.
As they swung shut, Dr. Jim bowed his head and said a quick prayer, asking God to save them all. He knew that this was a hopeless cause. There was no stopping the infection. He pulled up his sleeve and looked at the pussy teeth marks that were turning his arm purple. Soon he would be one of these flesh eaters, one of the walking dead.
The room started to spin and Dr. Jim clung to the table that held the elf who had already turned. The gnashing of the patient’s teeth and the incessant moans began to fade as Dr. Jim fell to the floor.
~
Two days later, Santa sat in his office, staring out the window. He watched white, fluffy snowflakes float down from the grey, overcast sky, without really seeing them. He had finished the Naughty & Nice List yesterday. Today, he had read the medical report from the hospital. Ninety-eight percent of the elves were sick or dead. He feared after delivering presents tonight he would come back to nothing. This might be the last Christmas ever, but at least there would be gifts this year.
Hammond knocked on the door before entering. “Santa, we’ll be ready right on time. There were enough of us left to load the sleigh. We’re exhausted, but there will be Christmas for the children.”
Santa sighed. “Yes, for the children.”
Hammond caught the melancholy in Santa’s tone. “We’ll figure something out, sir. Maybe things will be better by the time you return.”
Santa shook his head and rubbed his forehead. The pictures he had just examined flashed through his mind. Pictures from inside the hospital, were the walls had been drenched with blood. The red liquid had been everywhere, dripping off the ceiling and candy cane railing, puddled on the floor. It looked like a sadistic butcher shop. The worst thing was no one was there. Bones and severed limbs had littered the halls and rooms, but no living or moving thing was left. Everyone was missing. The only indication that the missing elves had been able to walk away was the trail of bloody foot prints in the snow, leading into the woods.
“The sleigh will be ready in an hour,” Hammond said and left, closing the door behind him.
~
The reindeer munched contentedly on the hay that was laid out in front of them while they waited for Santa. The sleigh sat behind them, loaded down with merrily wrapped packages. The joyful colors of red and green added a festive and exciting accent to the otherwise drab, brown shed.
Prancer was just bending down for another mouth full of hay when he saw a movement to his left. He froze as he sniffed the air. It smelled like an elf, but it didn’t. Looking at the strange creature, Prancer let out a warning bleat.
The other reindeer looked up at Prancer’s warning of danger, stepping back and forth, they tried to break free of their harness’.
The creature ignored the animals and instead headed for the sleigh. The little pale elf sniffed at the velvet interior and must have liked the scent, because she climbed in and burrowed underneath the packages.
Prancer snorted and looked at his team mates. He cocked his head as if to ask, ‘What was that thing?’ The others snorted and tossed their heads.
~
Santa’s solemn face stared back at him as he pulled his shiny, black leather belt tight over his paunch, securing his red velvet coat.
“This is it, old boy,” Santa said to his reflection. “Time to deliver all the Christmas cheer.”
He was still staring at his reflection, as if he could find all the answers in his mirrored self, when Hammond came in.
“It’s time, sir,” he reported to Santa. “The sleigh is loaded, the reindeer are ready, and it’s time for Christmas Magic!”
Santa inwardly winced at the false cheer in Hammond’s voice.
“Christmas Magic, indeed,” Santa mumbled, turning and putting on his hat. “Let’s get this over with.”
Hammond looked close to tears as he watched Santa walk out of the room. He may be a three-hundred-year-old elf, and had cried maybe two times in his adult elf years, but this was the saddest thing he had ever seen. Santa was depressed about Christmas, and nothing could be done to pull him out of it.
Moving to the window, Hammond watched Santa board the sleigh that had been pulled outside. The snowflakes danced, the reindeer pranced, and the thirty elves who weren’t sick tried to cheer. They fell flat and looked dead on their feet.
Santa cracked his magic whip, the silver and gold strands glinting in the gas street lights, and with a half-hearted, ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’, they were off.
Hammond watched them take off. It was perfect as always. At least some things stay the same, he thought with a sad smile, watching Santa until he couldn’t be seen any longer. When he looked back at the village, his eyes fell on the condemned hospital. He shuddered. Despite the new snowfall, the blood on the ground in front of the main doors was still visible, now showing pink instead of bright red.
Turning from the window, Hammond set about straightening the few items Santa had used while getting dressed. He was placing the last item, a silver comb, on the dressing table when he heard the first scream.
Rushing back to the window, he looked down on the quaint village that was nestled in the arctic glaciers of the North Pole. What he saw made him gasp in shock as fear gripped his heart with its icy fingers.
They had returned.
~
Santa went through his duties, and that’s what they felt like to him that night, duties. Normally it was a pleasure for him to give gifts. This year he didn’t care. He knew unless a miracle happened Christmas would cease to exist. What he couldn’t understand was, why wasn’t Christmas Magic helping now? Why hadn’t it stopped the outbreak? Was he failing in some way?
With a heavy heart Santa left beautiful dolls for good little girls, and skateboards for good little boys. Thinking of the delight in their eyes when they ran down the stairs in the morning to find their special gifts, made just for them, brought a faint smile to his lips and a rose tinge to his waxy cheeks. He decided right there, right then, this was going to be the best, most beautiful Christmas ever, even if it killed him.
With renewed vigor, Santa stood tall, and marched to the chimney with determination. Yes, Christmas was going to be wonderful, illness and death would come, but not until after he had made sure Christmas would shine in the memory of every person, in every house, that he touched that night!
~
Hammond stood frozen, not quite believing his eyes. Elf-zombie after elf-zombie came pouring into town, moaning and waving their arms. It was like some circuit in their festering brains remembered that they were supposed to be there for something. In fact, they were supposed to see Santa off, but they were too late, and it was now too late for the elves that had arrived on time.
The hungry horde fell on the tired, weak, healthy elves like they had never eaten before and needed sustenance so badly that they couldn’t help themselves. Flesh was bitten and torn off with cruel hands, claws, and teeth. Pale faces and foggy eyes contrasted with bright red blood as it shot through the air, spraying everyone. Some of the elf-zombies were cackling and catching blood drops on their tongues, just like small children do with snowflakes.
Hammond shuddered. The gore was unimaginable. He had never seen such violence. That was something reserved for humans, not elves. They were supposed to be happy, peaceful beings. This was not their way.
A gleeful moan sounded behind him. Hammond whirled around to see five of the elf-zombies standing in the doorway with sadistic grins on their rotting faces. Blood still speckled their cheeks from the feeding frenzy in the courtyard.
“No,” Hammond said, raising his arm to protect himself as they advanced toward him. “No!”
As his back hit the wall, his hand came in contact with a silver-reindeer-topped cane. Lifting it high over his head, Hammond let out a wild war cry and slammed it into the head of the lead zombie. It whimpered and fell to the floor to bleed out.
Hammond was shocked with himself, and with the fall of the elf-zombie. Renewed hope warmed his heart. He would go down fighting. These creatures were not taking Christmas away that easily. They would pay with their lives.
“You can’t have Christmas,” Hammond yelled and battled the four remaining foes.
They weren’t fast and they weren’t smart, so it didn’t take Hammond long to dispose of them. With a crocked grin and a cocky swagger, he left the dressing room, dispatching every zombie that was unlucky enough to cross his path. A few other healthy elves saw what he was doing. Taking up arms, they followed, and they fought.
~
Santa was on the last leg of his journey. He had one country left to deliver toys to. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the children would awaken and the true Magic of Christmas, joy and love, would be spreading all over the world. That was his gift to the mass’. It was the only thing that gave him the strength to go on.
He returned to the sleigh after delivering a train set and a teddy bear, after yet more milk and cookies, when something in the back caught his attention. A couple of the packages shifted and he thought he saw claws. Frowning, he didn’t think there were any puppies being given out this year, due to the outbreak they weren’t taking any chances by delivering anything live that could possibly carry the disease.
Leaning down into the back seat of the sleigh, Santa moved a couple of boxes aside, not finding anything. He was about to turn away when a female elf-zombie shot out and grabbed a hold of his arm. She hissed threateningly and climbed up onto Santa’s shoulders in the blink of an eye.
Santa swung up at the little beast, trying to knock her off. After a full minute of swinging and spinning, Santa got a handful of braid and yanked as hard as he could. He was horrified when he looked down to see that all he held was hair and scalp. It dripped with slimy, dark red blood and veins. Frozen for a moment in shock, Santa was brought back to reality as the zombie bit into his neck.
Screaming with pain and cursing the little demon, Santa threw himself backwards onto the roof of the house. He was big enough, and heavy enough, that the action dislodged the zombie. She went rolling and tumbled off the roof, her head hit a fence post, impaling and killing her.
For the first time, Santa noticed that the reindeer were agitated. He had been so preoccupied with what was going on at the North Pole, and his personal hang-ups, that he had ignored the warning signs they had been trying to give him all night.
Clutching his neck, Santa got up on his knees and then stood. Walking over to the reindeer, he patted them gently to calm them down.
“It’s all right now,” Santa said in a soothing voice. “The little biter is all gone. We’ll finish up and head home, everything is going to be okay.”
Despite his words, he wasn’t sure. Even now, just a few minutes after being bitten, he was already starting to feel weak from the loss of blood, and from a fever. As he climbed back into the sleigh, he grabbed the reins and they were off again, for how long, he didn’t know.
~
Hammond and his army of three follower elves fought their way outside. They stood in the double doorway of the workshop and surveyed the carnage in front of them. All together they had killed a total of thirty-five zombies. They were tired from working long, hard shifts and they wanted to lie down and sleep, but that wasn’t an option. Fear and anger were fueling their bodies with overwhelming amounts of adrenaline, which seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.
They looked at each other, smiling and grinning with a mad delight in getting revenge on these Christmas assassins. With a whoop and a holler, they charged into the fray, swinging their weapons in mantic joy!
It took the feeding zombies awhile to realize what was happening. Hammond and his band took out twenty more zombies before their presence was noticed.
The zombies gathered in a shuffling, moaning, disgusting crowd and shambled toward their attackers, now intent on enjoying some fresh, hot meat.
“Hold rank,” Hammond barked.
The warrior elves stood in a straight line across the street, bloody weapons dripping on the snow-covered ground. Their breaths came out in thick, puffy clouds. Eyes blazing, stances set for the onslaught, they waited for Hammond’s signal.
“Forward,” Hammond yelled. “No mercy!”
Charging forward into the horde, Hammond and his band fought valiantly. Clubs met heads that gave way with moist thumps. Blood sprayed and splashed on the warriors and on their surroundings, but it didn’t slow them at all. The hungry mouths of the zombies were everywhere, gnashing, chomping, and biting. Two of the band fell to their foes, the others fought on.
Before long, all the zombies were down. Hammond looked around for his friends, to no avail. He was the only survivor, or so he thought.
As he stood bent over, breathing heavily, a door to a small cottage across the street creaked open. Hammond spun, raising the reindeer cane high above his head, ready to be charged by yet another enemy. When he saw that it was just a young elf and his mother standing in the doorway, he laughed and lowered his weapon.
More and more families stared pouring out of their homes, where they had been hiding. Female elves with their children.
Hammond fell to his knees. Their race would go on, the little ones would grow, and Christmas would continue. Laughing hysterically, letting out all of the tension and despair that had been plaguing him, he realized that Christmas was truly magical.
~
Santa wasn’t feeling too good. Every time he stopped to deliver gifts he vomited. This didn’t worry him at first. All the milk he had drank, and a fever, would cause vomiting, so at first he just ignored it. But as he began to get dizzier and starting throwing up blood, he knew he was done for. He had to get home, and soon.
Weaving, he made his way back to the sleigh. There was one bag of presents left. He tried to focus his eyes on the tag and figure out where it needed to go. His brain wasn’t working right and he couldn’t remember.
Finally, he forced his eyes to read the tag, it said, ‘HUGSFFA’. They were the gifts for the foster children.
Santa fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the cool metal railing of the sleigh. He couldn’t skip them. These children needed the joy and love of Christmas Magic more than anyone else. He couldn’t let them down.
Santa forced himself to his feet. The world spun around him and soon he was heaving and vomiting blood again. He knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t deliver the packages. He also knew he wouldn’t go home until he knew they were in the hands of someone that could deliver them.
Suddenly, a single ray of light shot through his brain. He knew whom he could trust to take the Magic of Christmas to the foster children. Dragging himself into the sleigh, he gave orders to the reindeer and off they went.
It didn’t take them long to get to the house. In fact, it took Santa longer to crawl out of the sleigh and drag the bag to the door of the house, than it did for them to get there.
Weaving drunkenly, Santa knocked on the door and rang the door bell. As fast as he possibly could, he made his way back to the sleigh and was just taking off for home as Lyle Perez-Tinics opened the door.
Lyle frowned and looked down at the dark-green velvet bag that sat at his door step. Leaning down he read the tag. With wide eyes he glanced up into the sky just in time to see Santa and the reindeer’s silhouette against the backdrop of the moon.
“What is it, honey?” Lyle’s wife said with a yawn as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.
Lyle patted his wife’s hands where they were linked over his stomach. “Santa.”
He felt her jerk. “What? Are you sleep walking?”
“No,” Lyle said, pulling away to show her the bag of packages for Hugs. “I don’t know why, but he left this here.”
Lyle’s wife frowned and then grinned. “I guess he does know who’s naughty and nice. He must know that you had it in your heart to help those children this year.”
Lyle looked away with a crocked grin and shrugged. “I’ll have to make some calls and get people out of bed, so we can make sure these presents make it under some trees before morning.”
Lyle’s wife laughed. “Let’s do that!”
They made calls for the next hour, getting the address’ to all the children, and even got some volunteers to help.
The first rays of the morning sun were just peeking over the horizon as Lyle and his wife walked arm in arm to their front door. All the packages had been delivered and they were extremely tired.
Pausing, they smiled and let the first warming rays bathe their upturned faces.
“This is gonna be a great Christmas,” Lyle said and kissed his wife’s forehead.
Together they went inside and enjoyed their Christmas together, knowing that they had helped bring smiles to the faces of many children, who were at that very moment, opening their presents.
~
Santa passed out on the way back to the North Pole. Luckily the reindeer knew their way home. They were still nervous and flew faster than normal. They needed the security and safety they knew they would feel when they got into their stalls.
The smell of blood reached them, even in the air. The reindeer jerked so hard, and rocked the sleigh so violently, it woke Santa. He moaned and took the reins, guiding the reindeer down the best he could.
He passed out again, just as they halted in the bright red snow.
~
Hammond had seen the sleigh land and had come out to meet it. As he approached, he noticed how pale Santa was. Rushing to him, Hammond shuddered as he saw the festering wound on Santa’s neck and the blood that dotted his coat.
For a moment Hammond just stood there, not knowing what to do. He wasn’t sure if he should waste his time by having Santa dragged inside, or if he should just slam something into Santa’s head now, before he turned.
The choice was taken away as a young female elf saw Santa. She screeched with joy and tugged at her mother’s skirt, yelling that Santa was back.
Soon the remaining elves were surrounding the sleigh. The adult’s eyes took in the situation and looked at Hammond with panic in their eyes.
“Take the reindeer to the barn and see to them,” Hammond instructed a small group of elves. “The rest of us will get Santa inside. Janet, why don’t you take all the little ones to your house while we get him inside.”
Janet nodded and took charge of all the small children.
The remaining elves helped him get Santa inside. They removed Santa’s belt, boots, hat, and coat and put him in bed.
Hammond stayed with Santa. He could hear the nervous chatter of the other elves in the hall. There was no hope for Santa. He was going to become a zombie, too.
Hammond bowed his head to pray, and jumped when the door to Santa’s room flew open and an elf no more than five-years-old came dashing in giggling. Her blonde hair was coming free from her long braids, looking like woven gold in the candle light.
“Santa!” she squealed and hopped up onto the bed.
Hammond jumped up and tried to grab the child, but she was too fast.
Santa’s eyes shot open, they were cloudy. He hissed and sat up, grabbing the girl as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He teeth were merely an inch away from her tender flesh, when she spoke.
“Merry Christmas, Santa!”
Zombie Santa froze, and a blinding flash of light flashed between him and the little girl.
Hammond raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare. Blinking rapidly, he waited for it to fade. It only took moments.
When Hammond could see again, he looked at the girl and Santa. Santa was normal! He looked cheerful and healthy! The girl was sitting on his lap rattling off all the presents she had gotten, like nothing at all had happened.
Speechless, Hammond turned and left the room. The Magic of Christmas had come through for them after all. Everything would be fine, and there would be more presents next year.
THE POWER OF A GIFT
by Rebecca Besser
Kallalaya Tinics stood in the living room, peering expectantly at the front yard through the frost covered front window. Her father, Lyle, stood in the doorway watching her with two steaming cups of hot chocolate in his hands, admiring her innocent beauty and grinning at her excitement – Christmas was their favorite time of year, and this Christmas was going to be an extra special one.
“We still have time, Kally,” he said, walking forward and sitting the mugs on the coffee table, beside a plate of festive Christmas cookies. “Santa said he would send the sleigh for us at ten o’clock – it’s barely nine. Sit down and have a snack with me while we wait for Mommy to get ready.”
With a sigh, the young girl turned and frowned. “Why can’t Santa come early?”
Lyle laughed. “I told you, sweetheart, he’s very busy.”
She strolled slowly over to the couch and plopped down beside her dad; the shimmering dark green material of her dress puffed up at the sudden movement and she smoothed it down delicately. “The kids at school didn’t believe me when I told them I was going to the North Pole,” she said, still frowning. “They said I was a baby and that Santa isn’t real.”
Taking a sip of his hot chocolate and chewing a mouthful of cookie, Lyle thought about his response before speaking. “Well, remember what I told you happened last year? That Santa had me help deliver Christmas presents to the HUGS children? Doesn’t that prove that Santa is real?”
“Yes,” she muttered, picking up a cookie and taking a bite. “But why doesn’t everyone believe, if he’s real?”
Lyle inwardly groaned, knowing it was incredibly hard to wrestle with a child’s logic and help them understand the world; he waited until he’d finished his cookie to reply.
“Some people don’t want to believe. They think not believing in magical things makes them more grown up. I think it makes them boring!” He leaned over and tickled his daughter. “You don’t want to be boring, do you?”
“No, Daddy!” she squealed.
“Besides,” he said, leaning back and smiling down at Kallalaya, “you get to meet the big guy in person and everyone is jealous! You’ll know the truth when you’re flying through the air on Santa’s sleigh.”
She grinned broadly and helped herself to another cookie. “Yup!”
“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Mandy huffed as she came rushing downstairs. “How do I look?” She spun and showed off her festive sweater – sporting a snowman – and her dark red, long skirt. “Do I look like I’m ready for a stroll through the North Pole?” she asked and laughed.
Lyle grinned. “You look beautiful.” He turned to his daughter and nudged her gently with his elbow to get her attention; she was staring out the front window again. “Doesn’t Mommy look pretty?”
Kallalaya barely glanced at her mom and said, “You look really pretty, Mommy.”
Mandy laughed. “Thanks.” She looked at the three small suitcases sitting by the front door and frowned. “Do you think we have everything we’ll need?”
Laughing, Lyle rose from the couch, walked out into the hallway, and wrapped his arms around his wife, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “We have everything we need. Calm down.”
She sighed, nodded, and relaxed into his embrace. “What time is it?”
Lyle glanced at his watch. “A quarter after nine. You have time to sit down with us and have a cookie before we go.”
Smiling, Mandy pulled away and walked into the living room, sitting down beside their daughter; Lyle joined them.
Together they ate, drank, talked, laughed, and waited for a magical sleigh to come and carry them away for their two-day trip to the North Pole.
Soon, before they realized how much time had passed, a jingling of sleigh bells could be heard outside. Kallalaya jumped up and practically flew to the front window, pressing her face to the cold glass to look up into the sky.
“It’s here! It’s here!” she screamed, squealing excitedly and clapping her hands. “We’re really, really going to meet Santa!”
Lyle and Mandy laughed, watching their daughter.
“Yes, the sleigh is here, so you’d better go put your boots on,” Mandy said, walking over and gently nudging Kallalaya from the window.
“But I wanna see who’s driving!” Kally protested.
Reluctantly her mother gave in with a sigh. “Okay, but then you need to get your boots on so we can go when it’s time.”
“Daddy, who’s that?” she asked, pressing her finger to the window; humidity gathered around the appendage, making a foggy circle. “Is he an elf?”
Lyle walked closer to the window and peered outside. “Yup, that’s an elf. Santa said in his letter he wouldn’t be able to come to get us himself, so he was sending his head elf. I can’t remember his name. . .”
“It started with an ‘h’ didn’t it?” Mandy asked. “And it reminded me of food. . .something pork.”
“Hammond,” Kallalaya chirped. “I ‘member now. He saved the North Pole while Santa was delivering presents – it was in the storybook that came with the letter.”
“You’re right, sweetheart,” Lyle said, smiling. “I remember the story. It was Hammond.”
They jumped as the doorbell rang, not having noticed Hammond advancing toward the house while they were discussing his name.
Kally squealed and darted for the front door. Mandy and Lyle grinned at each other and followed at a slightly more reserved pace and arrived to see Hammond through the open doorway; snowflakes danced around him and shimmered in the foyer light, making him look magical.
“Hi! I’m Kallalaya!” she screamed, grinning up at the elf.
He smiled down at her. “Yes, I know, and I’m here to take you to the North Pole. You wouldn’t want to meet Santa, would you?”
“Yes! Yes!” she screamed and bounced.
Mandy laughed. “Get your boots on then, silly! We can’t go until you’re properly dressed.”
Kally nodded and darted around the corner to put her boots on.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Hammond said, reaching his hand out to Lyle, who shook it. “Santa told me what you did for us last year and we’re all very grateful; Christmas was rough and every little bit helped.”
Lyle nodded. “It was no problem at all. My wife, Mandy,” he paused and turned to her, pulling her forward, “and I enjoyed delivering the toys to the foster children.”
She nodded in agreement, extending her hand in greeting as well; Hammond shook it warmly.
“Thank you for your help as well, Mandy,” the elf said. He pulled back and motioned to the bags sitting by the door. “Is this everything?”
Lyle nodded. “Yes.” Hammond bent down to get them and Lyle grabbed his coat off a hook by the door. “Let me help you with those.”
“I’ll check on Kally’s progress and we’ll be out in a minute,” Mandy said, closing the door behind them and walking around the corner to find an empty bench. “Kally! Where are you?”
Mandy spun in a circle looking for her daughter. Not seeing her anywhere, she went back out into the hall and that’s when she spotted her coming down the stairs, hugging her worn out teddy bear.
“What are you doing, honey?”
“I’m bringing Mr. Snuggles with me,” Kallalaya said with a slight huff and a pout. “He’ll be lonely here all by himself.”
Mandy sighed, knowing they were going to have another episode about Mr. Snuggles. “Sweetie,” she said, kneeling down in from of Kally and the bear, who were now on the bottom step, “Mr. Snuggles is old and he’s falling apart. . . See?” Mandy reached forward and pulled the bear’s arm back; the stuffing showed through the seams. “If you take him with you, he might fall apart. He has to stay home.”
Kally’s bottom lip started to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. “But I need my bear to sleep.”
“Maybe Santa will have a special new one for you,” Mandy said. “Let’s leave Mr. Snuggles here to guard the house – tell him you’ll bring him a Mrs. Snuggles when you come home.”
With tears spilling from her eyes, Kally nodded and reluctantly handed over her beloved bear to her mom.
“What’s going on in here?” Lyle asked, coming though the door and looking around expectantly. “We’re all loaded up and ready to go.” He spotted Kally, who was still standing on the bottom step crying. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, rushing forward and catching the sight of Mandy setting Mr. Snuggles on the hall table; instantly he knew.
“Mommy. . .” Kally started, but paused and sniffled. “Mommy said Mr. Snuggles can’t come with us.”
Lyle nodded and picked his daughter up, rubbing her back gently as she laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her little arms around his neck. “We already talked about this, and you know it’s best for him if he stays home.”
Kally nodded and whimpered.
“How about we go for a sleigh ride to the North Pole and see Santa?” Lyle said, forcing cheerfulness into his voice to try and excite Kally about the trip again. “Do you want to sit up front with Hammond? I bet he’ll let you hold the reins and everything!”
Kally sniffled again, but giggled and nodded her head ‘yes’.
Lyle eyes met Mandy’s as they turned toward the door; they both smiled.
It didn’t take Kallalaya long to cheer up once they were in the air and flying briskly toward the North Pole, and sure enough, Hammond let her ‘drive’ the magic sleigh. Mr. Snuggles was soon forgotten.
They arrived to a cheering crowd of young looking elves; only a few older ones were mixed in. Lyle frowned, knowing this was because of the zombie outbreak the previous year, which had actually wiped out most of the North Pole’s population. Most of the older ‘mature’ elves had been killed, leaving behind the younger elves to carry on the work needed to make toys for Christmas.
His eyes scanned the crowd for the one person he was most anxious to meet, but he didn’t see Santa anywhere in the crowd.
“Where’s Santa?” he heard Kally ask Hammond.
Hammond laughed. “He’s busy getting ready for Christmas, it’s in a couple days you know and there’s a lot to do yet. See all those elves down there?” he asked, pointing below them. “That’s only half of the elves at the North Pole. The rest are busy making toys for good boys and girls. Have you been a good girl this year?”
Kally nodded excitedly with a grin on her face. “You know what I want for Christmas?”
“No,” Hammond said. “What do you want for Christmas?”
As she spoke her reply, they descended and the roar of the crowd drowned out her answer, which Lyle strained to hear regardless; he wanted to get his wife and daughter the presents they really wanted, but didn’t have the slightest clue what either of them would like to get for Christmas. Sighing, he gave up when all he could hear were the cheering voices of the crowd.
They were received like visiting dignitaries, with gifts, hugs, hand shakes, and kisses on the cheeks. You would have sworn war had broken out and they were the ones responsible for ending the carnage!
Almost an hour after arriving, they were settled comfortably in their room with a snack. They’d been told they would be taken on a sleigh ride around the North Pole before supper, where they would meet Santa himself, and as soon as they were ready, they headed back downstairs, still dressed in their warm clothes.
A young, female elf greeted them warmly as they came out of Santa’s house. “Welcome to the North Pole! I’m Solstice, and I’ll be taking you on your tour.”
Kally jumped into the sleigh and yelled, “Hi!” to the elf on her way bye.
“You’ll have to forgive her,” Mandy said with a smile. “She’s a bit excited.”
Solstice laughed. “It’s fine, really. We love the joy and excitement of children, it’s what makes the Magic of Christmas work, you know.”
“Oh, yes,” Lyle said, wrapping his arm around his wife and walking toward the sleigh, “I remember the Magic of Christmas, don’t you, Kally?”
“Yup!” she yelled and bounced in her seat; she’d again decided to ride in the front, this time with Solstice.
They all laughed.
Solstice climbed aboard after Lyle and Mandy. She picked up the reins and gave them a quick, but gently, snap over the young reindeer’s back, who was pulling the sleigh. They took off with a slight jerk and then were sliding over the packed-down snow with ease.
Their guide was polite, cheerful, and very informative about the small village and how things were run. They asked many questions and got answers to every single one.
Soon, the tour came to an end. The North Pole wasn’t a large place and it hadn’t taken them long to see all of it.
“I have an idea,” Solstice said with an impish smile, leaning over toward Kally. “Why don’t we go find the perfect Christmas tree for your room!”
“Could we?” Kally asked with a broad grin. She turned around, got up on her knees on the seat, and looked at her parents. “We’re gonna get a Christmas tree for our room!”
Lyle and Mandy laughed.
“We know,” Lyle said. “That’s going to be awesome, isn’t it?”
Kally nodded energetically and turned back around, flopping back into her seat. “Where are we going to get the tree, Solstice?” she asked, looking around. “I don’t see any stores. . .”
The elf laughed. “We’re going to go into the woods, pick one, and have one of the other elves cut it down and take it to your room. It will be there after you get back from having supper with Santa!” She brought the sleigh to a halt with the drawing back of the reins. “This looks like a good spot. What do you think?”
“Yes!” Kally yelled and hopped off the sleigh.
“Wait for us,” Mandy said. “We want to help too.” She slid from the sleigh and grabbed Kally’s hand and together they ran off through the woods laughing.
“I think they’re having a good time,” Lyle said to Solstice as he too climbed out of the sled; she followed.
“I think so too,” the elf said.
Just then the frightened screams of Lyle’s wife and daughter rent the air. Fear stabbed from his ears to his heart. Without another word, he dashed off into the forest, following the tracks his family had made in the snow. He hadn’t quite made it all the way to their location when his wife’s screaming came to an abrupt halt and Kally’s intensified; he ran faster, slipping in his hast and almost falling face first into the snow. His hand shot out and grabbed a pine branch to help keep him on his feet; the rough nettles and bark cut into his palm, drawing blood, but he stayed on his feet.
Rounding a clearing, he paused in shock at what he saw. Kally, crying out sharply as a zombie-elf bit into her neck nudged him back into action. In a glance, he noticed his wife lay prone in the snow – face down and bleeding. But it was Kally he was focused on, and the monster that was hurting her. Without thought to his own safety, he charged forward and kicked and punched the zombie-elf until it let go of his little girl.
Frozen chunks of rotted flesh flew from the creature as Lyle continued to pummel it with gloved fists. Snap after, slushy, bloody, snap echoed through the clearing as he beat through the undead beings icy flesh to break bones, which were brittle from the cold. The zombie-elf was so decayed that Lyle couldn’t tell if it was male or female, and he didn’t care.
The creature stopped moving after Lyle’s fists caved in its skull with his angry blows, but still he beat on it. The sounds of this family’s screams still echoed in his head, and the sight of their blood and limp bodies fuel his rage with hurt. Tears streamed down his face and he swore as his arms continued to pump and slam into the corpse beneath him.
Solstice’s screams for him to stop went unheard until Lyle’s body stopped his actions with weariness and fatigue. He rolled off the pulverized zombie elf to lie in the snow and stare up into the bright blue sky, where fluffy white clouds drifted across his tear blurred line of vision.
An elf’s face shimmered before his eyes and the world began to fade as darkness welcomed him with open arms of oblivion. . .
~
Lyle regained consciousness slowly and found himself inside a brightly lit room. He blinked rapidly, trying to figure out where he was and why. It didn’t take long for the events in the forest to come back in a rush. With a moan, he closed his eyes again and tried to breathe around the ache in his chest. His wife and daughter were dead.
Voices beyond the door, out in the corridor, slowly filtered through his misery.
“What do you mean, ‘they woke up’?” a male voice hissed. “That’s not possible! They were dead!”
“I know, I know,” a timid female voice replied, “but they did. The woman and the girl are both awake. They’re violent, and we’ve had to lock them in the morgue, but they’re both very much awake. . .and alive.”
“I have to see this for myself,” the male voice said gruffly before both of the unseen entities moved farther away.
Alive? Lyle thought. How can that be? He forced himself to sit up, and felt the weakness in his arms from the beating he’d given the zombie-elf. Wait, yes! That’s it! he continued to himself in his head. It was a zombie-elf! Does that mean. . .?
He groaned, buried his head in his hands, and covered his face. “No, this can’t be happening. It would be better if they were dead.” Dragging his hands through his hair, he looked up at the ceiling, unaware of the tears flowing freely down his cheeks.
Suddenly the door to the small room flew open. Lyle jumped and looked at the door, noticing a young female elf in a white and red uniform, who looked like a nurse. Glancing away from her smiling face, he looked at the room he was in for the first time, noticing he was in a hospital.
“How are you feeling?” the nurse asked, coming forward. “Solstice is quite worried about you and wanted to stay, but she had to take a search party out to the forest and make sure there were no more monsters lurking about.”
Lyle didn’t answer, he just looked at her and blinked, thinking, Did she really just ask me how I am? How the hell does she think I am?! My family was just killed!
She frowned at him, and then her face lit with realization. “I’m so sorry. . .” she said. “I didn’t think. You must be feeling horrible about your family and everything. I should tell you though, that I don’t think they’re dead; I heard someone say they woke up! Isn’t that marvelous?”
Again, he didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow and looked at her with a crooked, sardonic grin.
The door opened again, to admit a male elf with a clipboard in one hand and a stern expression on his face. He was wearing a white and green lab coat and the words DOCTOR GLINT were emboldened on his candy cane name tag.
“Ah,” he said, “I see you’re awake. How are your arms?”
Lyle looked down and shrugged. “Sore.”
“It’s to be expected,” Dr. Glint said, glancing down at his clipboard and then around the room. “I really don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it. Your wife and daughter were dead, but have reanimated on their own. We are attributing it to the virus that ran ramped through the elf population last year around this time. We believe the elf who attacked them was a carrier and spread the disease to them when it bit them.”
“Zombies,” Lyle said, with a harsh laugh.
“Excuse me?” Dr. Glint said, squinting up at him. “What do you mean by ‘zombies’?”
“My wife and daughter are now zombies,” Lyle snapped, looking straight at the doctor defiantly. “Isn’t that what you’re telling me? I mean, they’re the walking dead and crave flesh, and anyone they bite will become one of them. They’re zombies!” He ended, standing and yelling.
“Now, Lyle,” Dr. Glint said, raising his hands to try to calm and placate his patient, “you need to calm down. Getting all excited won’t help the situation.”
Lyle barked out a harsh laugh. “You got that right, doc!”
The three of them stood in silence for long, tense moments, before Lyle spoke again.
“I want to see them.”
Dr. Glint stared at him for a moment and then nodded. He turned to the nurse.
“Take Lyle to see his wife and daughter.”
“What?” she squeaked. “I can’t. . .”
The doctor huffed. “You don’t have to go in or anything, just take the man down and let him look through the window, so he can see his family for himself.”
The nurse opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it and nodded. She glanced at Lyle, sighed, and turned, heading out the door. He followed without even a glance back at the doctor, who stood in the middle of the hospital exam room, staring down at his chart with a frown.
He struggled to keep up with the little nurse as they hurriedly twisted and turned around many passageways, finally coming to a flight of stairs, leading down into the dimly lit basement.
“Almost there,” she said over her shoulder, fidgeting with her uniform nervously.
Lyle and the nurse came to a stop outside a room at the end of the final corridor. The door was locked and barricaded with a heavy desk. The plaque on the door read: MORGUE.
Stepping cautiously forward, Lyle forced himself to look through the small circular glass window; it had been swirled to make it look like a piece of candy, but he could still see through it clearly. Beyond the transparent boundary, he beheld his family. They were huddled together over a small body. He accidentally bumped the desk and it, in turn, bumped the door; the noise got Mandy and Kally’s attention. Their heads spun in the direction of the door and he saw what they’d been doing. They were eating the body of a dead elf, who’d been with them in the morgue when they’d turned.
He gagged, seeing bits of muscle and other bloody tissue dangling from their chewing mouths. It was a horrific scene to behold. He stepped back quickly and they went back to eating.
“I think you should go back to your room at Santa’s house and try to rest,” the nurse said, coming forward and laying her hand on his arm gently. “He wants to talk to you, but was called away for another emergency.”
Lyle, shell shocked and unable to process everything that was going on, let the nurse guide him to the entrance of the hospital, where another elf met them and guided him through the busy lanes of the North Pole, back to Santa’s house, and even inside to his room.
Once the door closed behind him with a dull thunk, Lyle fell to his knees and leaned back against the door. He stayed that way for a long time, staring off into nothing, trying to process what had happened to his life, in what seemed like mere seconds.
~
Someone knocking on the door, right above his head, some time later brought Lyle back to reality.
Slowly turning and using the door to support himself, he stood on stiff legs to open the door. He wasn’t really in the mood for company, but he didn’t know if someone might be bringing news about his wife and daughter.
He was shocked to see Santa standing outside the door, frowning with concern.
“Hello, Lyle,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t greet you earlier, and I’m even more sorry that I couldn’t be with you after your family was attacked. It disturbs me greatly. May I come in?”
Lyle nodded and stepped back, opening the door wider to allow the big man admittance. He closed the door after him and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor and around the room, not really knowing what to say.
Santa took a seat on a chair sitting in the corner of the room and motioned to the second. Lyle walked briskly over and sat down, still not looking at his guest.
“I know things are hard for you, Lyle,” Santa said. “But I’ve come to help you try and figure things out. There is hope. . . You did read the story with Kallalaya that I sent you, didn’t you?”
Frowning, Lyle nodded.
“So you know that I too was one of these undead. . .creatures, and there can be something done about it?”
With the light of hope in his eyes for the first time since the attack, Lyle looked up and grinned. “You really think there’s something we can do for them?”
“But, of course,” Santa said and laughed in his ‘ho, ho, ho’ manner. “You are, after all, at the North Pole where the Magic of Christmas is the strongest. We just have to figure out what the right recipe of that magic is for your family.”
“So,” Lyle said slowly, “you think I can just go give them a hug and tell them Merry Christmas and they’ll be good as new?”
Santa laughed again. “No, no! I don’t think you should do that. Their teeth look dangerous and they appear quite mean. I peeked in on them before coming to see you.” He winked at Lyle and smiled. “I think they’ll need your love to bring the Magic of Christmas to them. You see. . . I don’t think it was the young elf’s hug that broke the spell for me last year. I think it was the gift of caring. I was depressed, to be honest. Christmas seemed to be falling apart and I didn’t feel I was doing the job, so to speak, of keeping everything together. The girl brought me hope with her gift and that’s what enabled the Magic of Christmas to shine through the cursed disease and heal me.”
“Oh,” Lyle said, frowning down at his hands, which he held clasped between his knees so tightly that his knuckles were white. “How will I ever be able to do that?”
“I don’t know, Lyle,” Santa said, sitting forward with a solemn expression. “That’s something, I believe, you’ll have to discover for yourself, before it’s too late.”
“Before it’s too late?” Lyle asked, lifting his eyes to meet Santa’s. “What do you mean, before it’s too late?”
Sighing, Santa looked directly back at Lyle. “If you don’t do it before I leave on Christmas Eve to deliver gifts, I fear you’ll have to wait an entire year for the Magic of Christmas to be strong enough to heal them. It’s the strongest right before, and during the time when the children of the world open their presents, and that’s when you need to make your move. Do you understand?”
Lyle nodded and rubbed his face with his hands. “How am I supposed to figure it out? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, so I have less than two days!”
Santa smiled, patted Lyle’s knee, and stood. “I think you should rest tonight and let yourself think. Tomorrow, we’ll tackle this task together. I’ve let Hammond know that I would be occupied with this mess and that he would be in charge of preparing everything for the grand delivery.” He walked over to the door and opened it.
Jumping to his feet, Lyle dashed over to the doorway in a panic. “I have to try now. I can’t waste any time!”
Gently, Santa placed his hand on Lyle’s shoulder and looked at him. “You’re fatigued. Your brain needs the rest, or else you won’t be able to think straight, and you must, Lyle, be able to think straight – for their sakes, as well as your own. Sleep and see what the world brings tomorrow. It’ll be a magical day!”
With that, Santa left the room, closing the door behind himself. Lyle stood where he was, thinking, for a long time. Finally, as long shadows crept across the floor of his room as the outside world grew darker with night, he climbed into bed, and surprisingly, he slept.
~
Bright and early the next morning, Lyle was up and out of bed. He took a quick shower and dressed for an action-packed day. For some reason, a couple of things Santa had said kept rotating through his brain: ‘. . .the gift of caring. . .’; ‘. . .with her gift. . .’. He couldn’t stop thinking that maybe gifts were the key. Maybe he needed to find the right ones to give his wife and daughter and it them the Magic of Christmas would do its job. But, as before, he was stuck with the dilemma of figuring out what the perfect gifts would be. Both of them had everything they could ever want; he hoped Santa might have some ideas.
Rushing out of his room, Lyle paused in the hall, realizing he had no idea where to go. To his right, a little ways down the hall, he spotted the stairs and figured going down them would be his best bet. With his renewed energy, his appetite returned as well and his stomach growled loudly as the rich aroma of cooking food floated to him on the air as he descended the stairs. After that, he let his nose guide him to the kitchen.
He was welcomed in by a plump, short elf in an apron. She was cooking up a huge breakfast and soon had a heaping, steaming plate of food in front of him. She also promised Santa would be down shortly, as he’d never missed one of her breakfasts yet.
Lyle laughed and ate. He was glad to have some time to himself to think about what he wanted to say to Santa. The solution was going to be complicated and he hoped they would be able to share ideas and resolve the matter quickly.
Santa arrived in the kitchen with a ‘ho, ho, ho’ that made the cook break into a giggle fit. She hurriedly started making him a plate of food and sat it on the table while he and Lyle greeted each other.
“Morning, Lyle,” Santa said with a wide grin. “You look much better this morning.”
“Good morning, Santa. Thanks,” Lyle said, “I feel better. I have some ideas on what can be done for my family.”
“Do you?” Santa asked, picking up his fork and raising one eyebrow quizzically. “Fill me in while I eat.”
Excitedly, Lyle jumped into his plan, talking a mile a minute and forgetting about the rest of the food on his plate. He asked about gift ideas and they discussed many options, and right after they’d finished eating they headed over to the workshop to see if they could find.
Searching for just the right gifts took longer than both of them would have thought. Lyle insisted on selecting more than one present for each Kallalaya and Mandy, scared that he was making the wrong choice and that he would need a backup just in case.
“Are you ready, Lyle?” Santa asked, standing in the door to the workshop, eager to get things rolling. It was Christmas Eve after all, and he had somewhere he had to be in a few hours. He also had a special plan, but for it to come to fruition, he needed Lyle’s plan to work.
Lyle looked down at a low work bench – built at elf level – at what he’d chosen; he sighed. “I think so.” He paused and rubbed his forehead with the fingers. “What if none of it’s right? What if the whole plan is wrong? What will I do then?”
Santa frowned. “You can’t think like that. If it’s what’s in your heart, what you feel is the right thing, then I’m sure it’ll work. Let the Magic of Christmas guide you.”
Clenching his jaw, Lyle picked up the gifts and turned to the door, and Santa, with determination. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Together they marched down the main lane of the North Pole, heading toward the hospital where Lyle’s undead wife and daughter were imprisoned like the beasts they were. Elves who were outside, or who spotted them through the windows of their cottages, stopped what they were doing and hurriedly followed behind, creating a procession. It seemed the entire North Pole was rooting for him, and that gave Lyle hope.
Maybe the Magic of Christmas will be strong enough to save my family, he thought, and for the first time, had hope that things were going to turn out okay.
That hope fumbled to stay in his heart as Lyle trudged down the halls of the hospital. He stood at the top of the stairs that lead to the basement and the morgue, and looked nervously at the faces around him; they all smiled with encouragement.
“Go ahead, Lyle,” Santa encouraged and motioned with his arm and hand to the stairwell. “Let Christmas do what it does best – heal the world with hope, happiness, and love.”
Gulping past the lump in his throat, he took the first step down; the rest quickly followed. Before he knew it he was standing in front of the morgue door, watching his wife and daughter stumble and shamble around the small room, chewing on the bones of one of the elves they’d consumed.
Looking around, he noticed that most of the elves had followed him down – the ones who could fit in the basement – but they were staying back as two hospital orderlies moved the desk they’d pushed up against the door for reinforcement.
Once the desk was moved, Lyle laid the gifts on the shining top, looking over what he’d brought. He decided to try his idea on Kally first, because he was more sure of what to give her, and if it worked, there was a good chance it would work on Mandy too. Picking up something he knew she would love, and would make her happy, Lyle turned back to the door.
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