Last Christmas' Message for Claus

*Preamble: This is part three in a series. If you're new to the series, it's probably best you read the first two parts before this one:

Jingle Bell Rot

You Better Watch Out

*

"Sir, we have footage from one of the team's bodycam."

"What about it?" Santa asked with annoyance, rousing himself from a delightful daydream about the upcoming Christmas deliveries. All the children he'd drain and maybe even snack on.

"You’ll want to see this, sir." insisted the elf, his usual cheerful demeanour replaced by an ashen-faced expression of shock.

Santa grumbled and pressed a sequence of buttons on his control panel, pulling up the footage. The flickering from the screen illuminated his dimly lit office, as he leaned forward, intrigued and uneasy.

"Dasher, what's taking you so long?"

"Blitzen, do you feel that?"

"Feel what? You spooking yourself again?"

"No... there's definitely something here!"

The footage was grainy, to say the least, but as Dasher looked up from the ground to a flash of light, there was a man standing in front of him, tapping one of SC's snow globes he used for enchanting and entrapping prey. The figure was tapping it and whistling Last Christmas by Wham. Dasher was unable to move.

"Who are you? This is private ground!" Dasher called out, trying to sound tough and menacing, struggling against the globe’s hypnotic glow.

"I have a message for your boss" replied a very dark and intimidating voice from behind the bright light.

"What's the message?"

There was silence, before an 8-inch long blade struck forward towards Dasher, catching the light and reflecting it into Dasher’s face, slicing through him like furry, fleshy, bloody butter.

Blitzen’s cries echoed as he fled, the bodycam slipping to the ground beside Dasher’s bloodied remains.

Silence. Then the march of heavy, confident footsteps echoed, each step puncturing the stillness. They stopped with a splat—a puddle of blood.

Santa whispered under his breath, "It can't be..." before the camera was tilted upwards. The screen was filled with a scarred-faced man looking directly into the lens, licking the reindeer's blood and entrails from the tip of his knife with a chilling calmness and malice.

"Message received and understood, Claus?"

The footage cut out abruptly.

Silence filled the room, as Claus said nothing for what seemed like an eternity.

"Sir..." The elf’s voice broke the stillness, hesitant and quiet.

Claus clenched his gloved fist around his beard, the vibrant leather creaking gently. He knew. Deep down, he knew, who was sending the message. It had been centuries since he last saw that face, but there was no mistaking it. "He's back..." he snarled, trying to put on a strong front for his team, but for the first time in so long, Ol' Saint Nick was worried.

"Prepare my sleigh," he growled, his eyes flickering with an old, dangerous resolve.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: As noted above, this is the third part in a series I actually started last year. After part two, Matthew Fromm said he felt Santa needed an arch-rival. So here we are. Who is the mystery man? Is he good, bad, or more grey?

Things are going to get messy...

I should also give a quick shout-out to Stephanie Hoogstad, as it was her unofficial challenge/prompt last year that inspired this series.

For a different pace, here are a couple of other things: