By Mari Wells
I cuddled the kids into the reclining chair and read book after book about Christmas and Santa. Once my throat was sore, we got up and hung our stockings. In the kitchen we gathered up Santa’s cookies, and other treats. We quit leaving milk out the year my ex husband got food poisoning; we left a bottle of Coke, those special holiday bottles with the Santa on it. Carrots too, of course we’d leave a snack for Rudolf and the other reindeer.
Twelve carrots, a plate of cookies and a bottle of Coke later; I tucked my two little excited babies into their beds. I told them not to get out of bed until the sun shone through their window. I sat in my room arranging a few bags of presents. I’ve found it easier to put all of one child’s presents in one bag when putting it under the tree, and filling stockings.
The boys were quite for a while; I snuck from my room down the hall I was sure they’d get up with all the noise I made. They didn’t. Presents tucked under the tree, stockings filled, my only task was putting the carrots and Coke away. I swiped a cookie from the plate as I took the other treats back to the kitchen.
After I prepared for bed, sad this year would be spent in my lonely dark room, not like the years past when Christmas lights twinkled across my ex’s bare shoulders and chest. I crawled in to bed and waited for sleep to pull me under.
A bright light shines in my face; I’ve tried to hide under my pillow, when I realize what day it was. I stretched and sat up. A small crack in my curtains let sunlight in. The boys still hadn’t come to wake me up. Maybe they were already in front of the tree. I’m gonna be so mad if they’ve ripped open presents already, I thought.
I stopped and peaked into their room as I make my way to the living room. Their beds were empty. I expected to see them in the front of the tree. I walked through the living room. A blanket covering up little bumps is sprawled across the couch. “Let me get some coffee guys then will start.” There isn’t an answer, I smiled to myself; little munchkins must still be sleeping.
I made my pot of coffee and start my first drink; they still don’t make a sound. The cup, cradled in my hands as I walked to the couch and pulled the blanket off them. Pillows covered the couch, but my children weren’t there. I frantically looked for them, before I called the police.
He entered the house through the window like every other house without a chimney. Scanned the room for any eyes that shouldn’t see the magic he performs. The stockings hung from the far wall were full, not much room for the treats he’d leave. Warm prickles form on his back, piercing into his spine. His lips curve into a smile. Showtime he thought. He bent on one knee and began to untie a large red velvet bag. One brilliantly green box is placed under the tree. The large pot bellied elf stands and stretches.
He picked up a small cookie from the plate and nibbled at it. From the corner of his eye, he could see a pair of dimpled cheeked cherubs. Their golden hair reflected the twinkling Christmas lights adorning the tree. He spat the cookie on the floor. Would they take the bait, he wondered.
A gasp confirmed they had.
“Don’t you like our cookies Santa?” Two small children emerged beside him.
“Well, they aren’t as good as the ones Mrs. Santa makes.”
Greedy little eyes looked up at him.
“No one can bake like Mrs. Santa. She makes the yummiest treats ever.”
Both boys look at each other. Smiles come to their adorable little round faces, without speaking they communicate between themselves. “Could we try her cookies?” The older asks.
“I don’t think your mother would like you to have cookies before breakfast.” He chuckled as their bright smiles fell. “Hmm, maybe I could take you to see Mrs. Santa, that way she could give you some breakfast before yummy treats.”
“Yes, Yes.” The boys bounced up and down almost singing their response.
He pulls his red bag open and orders them to crawl inside. The two crawled in. He could hear the smothered prattle of the delicious treats they would sample. His smile grows larger. With the bag tied tight, he arranged two pillows on the couch and tossed a blanket on top of them before exiting the window with his heavy bag.
As the sleigh arrived at the North Pole, hundreds of little green clad men greet Santa. Some climbed up the sleigh in hopes of peeking into his large bumpy red bag. The scent from bag burned at their miniature throats.
“Patient my little goblins.” Santa said as he pulled the bag from the sleigh. “There were many little ones this year who spied upon my magic.” With a heavy thump, the huge bag hit the floor.
The red coat is removed as the large elf sat down to his tasty breakfast and treats. Miniature hands work at the bodies of small spies. Tiny men enter and leave the room after having grabbed small treats being removed from the cherub’s bodies. Goblets of red liquid are passed through the oldest of the tiny sadistic fairies. The hearts are served on a silver platter to the high elder.
After the small bodies are cleaned a new set of elves appeared. Each small female held a glass bottle or jar. A line is formed and a series of work is completed. Each dimple cheeked cherub is hung to dry. Small suits and dresses are laid out, to be assembled and sewn. The new dolls must be ready for next Christmas.
Mari’s love of the paranormal goes back to her tween years with origins in vampirology. In recent years, she has increased her vampire knowledge, and expanded it to other paranormal beings. Mari is a wife, and mom of four. Her writing is balanced around homeschooling all four children and keeping house. She burns the candle at both ends in order to write, adding to the ambiance of her paranormal stories. Her paranormal pieces have been included in supernatural magazines, websites and blogs. Other stories are published in other Medias online and in print. Twitter Blog