The Real Santa Claus

The Real Santa Claus

“Do you know why I don’t enjoy all the hubbub around the ‘Christmas Cheer’ that I find so annoying?” I asked Sharon as we walked around listening to another rendition of ‘Jingle bells’. I groaned in disgust as the next verse started. I hated this time of year, not because I was a miserly grump, I was just not that much into all the hype around Christmas. It held bad memories for me that I would sooner forget. “It was never a good time for me, It held too many bad, evil memories. Everyone was always jubilant and happy, always looking forward to Christmas morning, To open up their presents.”

“No, You never did say why Nick, I always wondered why you could never get into the whole ‘Joy to the World’ atmosphere of it all,” She snickered sarcastically as she air-quoted - Joy to the world - to emphasise the point. “I just assumed you had a very bad experience one Christmas…” she stopped as she looked at me, her face ashen as she realised what I meant.

I had stopped and was looking at her with a saddened visage, My eyes having gone ice-cold and dead. I shook my head from side to side as she also stopped and stared at me. She realised that she had hit on something terrible, but could not know what without me explaining to her exactly what it was. Her assumption was partially correct, but she was so far off the mark, that I eventually smiled at her, a very wan, sad smile.

“Oh God, is that it? There was something bad that happened to you as a kid?” she asked softly, holding onto my arm as she stood looking into my eyes, her eyes wet with a glimmer of tears, her face ashen. “I didn’t know! You never mentioned anything to me, all these years I have known you and nothing, you said absolutely nothing. I am so sorry, to hear that you suffered trauma as a kid. No kid should go through that at all,” her voice sympathised as she asked enquiringly, still curious as to exactly what had happened. “So, are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to drag you around all day, listening to cheesy Christmas tunes until you give in and explain to me exactly what happened.” She stood there all five foot six, her hands on her hips, like a diva ready to pout. I shook my head slowly, signifying that I did not want to spend the whole day listening to all this schtick, or she took it to mean I would not tell her.

“Give! I want to know what has made you so against Christmas!” she demanded, her long dark hair bobbing as she looked at me through her eyelashes. I smiled at her attempt at her irritation, then a small laugh escaped my lips as I smiled, genuinely this time, and nodded.

“Okay, you win, I will tell you, but we need to do it privately, not here, at your place. I know your boyfriend does not like me at all, but I want to tell you at your place. I promise nothing will happen to you,” I said, smiling at her openly now.

Sharon was the most beautiful, angelic creature that when I met her, it nearly broke my heart she was so beautiful. Her hair was golden blonde hair, shoulder length, with a slight darkening at the tips of her hair. It was completely natural and everyone always thought she dyed her hair to be different. Her face radiated warmth and compassion, with a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks, her blue-gray eyes entranced everyone she came in contact with. Sharon’s body was lean and slightly muscular, with a smallish waist that could fit any dress or jeans. She stood five foot seven in socks, which was pretty good as she was taller than most other girls around her. Guys always complimented her when she was out and about with anyone, even her boyfriend. He was the sort of guy that soaked up those compliments but had the presence of mind to warn off a few potential suitors who tried to give her their numbers. Her laugh was one of her most endearing features, the way it tinkled out of her like a soft piano on a moonlit night. She became one of my best friends, made lots of good memories together, and often took time away from everything to spend time just chilling out with me, although lately that had not happened so much since meeting Marcus.

Her laugh above anything else had made me fall madly in love with her in our University days, we had started the year together, had attended some of the same classes together studying botany. I had always worn my heart on my sleeve with her and she had known how bad I had it for her since that first week. I had always wanted more out of the relationship than just friendship, but her boyfriend at the time had seen how I was every time I was near her and he had soon warned me off in no uncertain terms. She had been very comfortable with me from the first meeting and had not been phased by my attention. She had relished it in fact, fed it and had made her boyfriend so jealous. He had never trusted me and allowed me to be alone with Sharon much. All her subsequent boyfriends had also been the same with me, and they had told her in no uncertain terms not to allow me to be alone with her at any time. They could not explain it but felt something was not quite right with me, something that was very off. They weren’t scared of me per se, but they sensed something lurking there. Sharon could and would not believe them and had spent many hours alone with me, with no negative vibes at all from myself. She had eventually confided in one boyfriend who had then subsequently gone missing from her life. She had assumed that he had decided to move on and had no clue as to his whereabouts after that.

My heart beat quicker with the realisation that she was almost about to hear why I HATED Christmas time, utterly and totally. It was all due to my parents, totally their fault. I had always enjoyed Christmas before that night, but since the night in question, I had been miserable. She knew she was onto a story here, and wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“So we need to be alone for you to tell me the story? Okay, I will go along with it for now, but I warn you that you will have to tell me the entire story, from the very beginning,” She nodded agreeably, “what about my boyfriend. You know he does not like you,” she continued, slowly looking at him with a challenging gaze.

“I suppose I will just have to deal with him being there and have to just get over the fact that he does not like me,” I said slowly, looking longingly at her, shrugging my shoulders.

“He is actually out of town for a few days, and I have the flat to myself, so if you want to come on over, then I will gladly listen to your tale. I have some wine and we can catch up with each other's life, we have not spent a lot of time together lately,”

My face brightened at the thought of having her alone, alone in her flat, without HIM there, and I could catch up with Sharon.

“Nick, come on, let’s get out of here then, let’s go back to mine. I want to hear all about it, I can come back tomorrow and finish up my shopping,” she said as she grabbed my hand, leading me back to the escalators.

She opened the door to her flat after the short drive, the whole place was just so… Sharon. Flowers in a vase, paintings half finished lay against the walls, and there were dirty cloths covered in paint everywhere. Her clothes were all neat and tidy, in a pile in the basket, ready to be put away. I smiled as I walked in, admiring her artistic endeavours and commenting on all the unfinished works. She smiled at me, leading me to a clear spot on the couch, then waltzed back into the small kitchen to grab the wine glasses and the wine. She settled onto the couch next to me, and filled my glass, then hers and toasted us and our friendship. We sat there in silence for an eternity, sipping our wine.

“So, are you going to explain why you absolutely hate Christmas?” She finally asked, looking at me over the rim of her wineglass, her eyes suddenly very dark grey. “You did say that you wanted to explain what it was. Now I am waiting in anticipation.”

I noticed the gold motes and smiled at her, my lips curled slightly. My thoughts jumbling together as I tried to settle them into some sort of order. This was going to be the hardest thing to try explain to anybody, never mind my best friend.

“Well here goes, I suppose it was inevitable that you would eventually hear the story. It was when I was about eight, and yes, it was Christmas Eve. My parents had gone out to a party with friends and had come back rather late. The babysitter had sent me off to bed at about nine pm, then had stayed until my parents got home. They never got home. There was an accident on the way home and were both killed. The babysitter fell asleep on the couch and woke me up the next morning with the news that my parents had been killed,” I lied to my best friend, looking as convincing as all the other lies I had told her. I had become an excellent liar over the years, all these years that I had been alive. Time was not my enemy at all, in fact, it was rather my best friend. It gave me time to master my skills as an accomplished liar, letting me lure them in.

Glass halfway to her lips she froze, she sat there, mouth slightly open, eyes wide in horror at the story I was telling her.

“Was… was it a drunken driver? What was it? Tell me, Nick, I want to know,” she implored, her free hand on my knee as she softly stroked it.

“It was, he had come out of nowhere and had killed my parents outright, their car totalled. He was so badly drunk that he was not even injured in the crash. My parents were killed outright,” I sobbed, hanging my head, the smile hidden from her view. ‘She was buying it, good, that would make it easier when the time came.’ I thought to myself.

“It was the revelation that I was alone, that nothing would ever be the same again for me that last Christmas, that was what scared me the most, that and the fact that I had been angry with them that night for leaving me with the babysitter. Now you see why Christmas is so sad for me every year Sharon,” I sobbed, my shoulders hitching as I felt her move to put the glass of wine down and felt her move in closer, putting her arms around me.

“You poor darling man, why are you still single? I can’t understand it? You are such a good soul, your life has been a tragedy. You need a good woman Nick,” she commented, placing her arms around me and hugging me tightly.

“You know I always loved you, you are the perfect woman for me Sharon, but you have a HIM as your boyfriend. He does not like me at all. You know how he feels about me. I would love to be in his place, loving and caring for you right now, holding and loving you,” I said, my head still down, smiling at my suggestion.

“Well, Mr perfect just upped and left me last night. I was going to tell you today but just did not have the right time to tell you, especially on Christmas Eve. I.. I.. don’t want to be alone. Please stay with me. I.. can’t…” her voice broke as tears flooded down her cheeks, the upset so evident in her voice, I broke character and looked at her, sobbing quietly as she sat there, crying.

“I am here, I am not going anywhere. Are you sure that you want me to stay?” I questioned Sharon, my voice hesitant.

“Yes, yes I do. I know you have had a thing for me since forever, I want you. Here. Tonight. You can be my Christmas present for me.” Her voice was tremulous but excited at the same time. “Please say yes. I want you to. I need you here today and the rest of tonight. Tomorrow we can celebrate.”

I grinned as I looked at her tear-filled eyes, then nodded. She smiled back at me, then took my hand and led me to the bedroom.

*****

I watched her as she slept, her body relaxed and comfortable, her hair a wild mess. She was fabulous in every way and it was a pity that I had to now kill her. My true self was approaching his time once more, the real reason I hated Christmas. I am not a man, I am a monster. I am Santa Claws. I rip and tear people apart, tear them to pieces once they have found me out. I reached out to wake her up, the rope ready to tie her up with. My hands were quick and deft as she struggled against me, her arms were bound quickly, her wrists tied as fast as anything. She struggled to focus and smiled up at me.

“Are you really into kink Nick?” Sharon asked, smiling with a knowing look in her eyes as she awoke fully from her slumber. “If I had known I would have hooked up with you a long time ago my sweet man, you are definitely nothing like the person you portray publicly.”

My real voice answered her then, the demonic netherworld voice, “No Sharon, you do not understand, this is not about sex. This is the real me, the one you should never have seen.”

I continued tying her up as she looked quizzically at me, her face confused at first, then becoming fearful, very fearful.

“I.. I.. what?” she looked at me totally non-plussed, her voice hesitant and quavering.

“I am a monster my sweet treat, I am a real honest to goodness monster from Hell. I am actually an ancient evil that has stalked the earth since time immemorial, one that destroys lives and enjoys feasting. Remember Marcus who disappeared? Yes, that was me. I ate him,” I croaked out the words, my throat suddenly dry with desire, fully changing to what it should be, my body flexed and bent, untwisted itself to reveal my true form.

My real form is a red bodied musclebound humanoid figure, the head larger than human, with a mouth full of needle sharp teeth. My eyes dark red, glowing with malevolent evil.

“I am actually the missing link, my dear, you see; there was a time when I was one of many that were alive and throughout time, we have been hunted down. The legend of the jabberwocky; the evil under your bed; the monster in your closet; the evil Saint Nick that will leave coal for all the bad children, that is me. I am the last of my kind. Fortunately my body ages extremely slowly so I have been alive for thousands of years. I am very real,” I stated, my vocal cords having been changed to my real voice. “I am a shapeshifter, so I can assume human form, but there is one day I can freely assume my REAL form, and that day is known as Christmas day. You my darling, are my treat for today. I plan to eat you all up. Merry Christmas.”

That was when I heard the noise coming from the front door being opened, my confused look was evident to her as she smiled.

“Run!” she said, “for my darling Claws, it is time for the hunt to begin.” I felt the shock before I realised what it was. She was a hunter! I screamed out loud, my voice harsh like glass shredding as I hit the wall. I tried to scramble up off the floor as I felt the pulse hit me again. I shuddered as her bonds evaporated before my eyes, the rope falling away as if they were nothing. I knew now that I was in trouble, and I had to get out of there. Stumbling, my body was slow to react to the adrenaline that flowed through me, pushing me off the ground I started moving away toward the door.

“Uh uh, wrong way Claws, wrong way. Window,” She said softly, pointing to the closed window, smiling sweetly but her eyes betraying her lustful hunters voice. “I want your adrenaline pumping, GO!” she commanded as she got up off the bed.

Moving, I tried to sprint toward the window, but still stumbling I crashed into and through it, showering the grass outside with glass. I realised I could not shift back to human form when I tried to change back to ‘Nick’. That was when I knew I was in trouble, the fact that my ability had been neutralised. I shuddered as the glass rained down around me, covering me with sharp splinters of pain. I stood, then started moving, toward anything that provided a hideout. The alley I ran into was not perfect but provided me with a brief respite while I caught my breath. I hunkered low, colliding with empty garbage bins, cursing my still recovering body. I had to get away from here, far away, otherwise, they would definitely kill me. The hunters burst through the front door, snapping it off the hinges, their lust-crazed eyes darting this way and that, searching for me, that was when I heard her cry.

“We hear you darling Claws, we hear you. Run!” she called out, I want your body, preferably alive, then I will be free to return to my home planet.”

I finally realised what I was dealing with, A Cre’e, one of the most vicious hunters of our species, one that I thought long dead. I whimpered in pain, trying to get farther away from them both. I ran through the memories in my head about the Cre’e and shuddered. They were long hated hunters, ones that could also shape-shift, but preferred human form, who were extremely good bounty hunters. I realised then that she had been waiting for this opportunity for a long time and I cursed my foolishness. Last night I unburdened my heart, now she knew some of my secrets.

My body surged with adrenaline as I ran or rather staggered away down the narrow alley. Fear coursed through me as I tried to get away. I heard them make their way toward the alley entrance, then heard them kick the garbage can out the way. I felt their gaze on me as I continued to run, pulling over more debris to try to slow them down.

Their laughter echoed toward me as they made short work of any obstructions I placed in their way. An energy bolt struck me, hitting me in the back, shoving me to the floor hard and unceremoniously. Stunned, I crashed into the wall opposite, then blacked out. They had tied me up by the time I awoke. They were standing over me, Sharon and Herman. He was not gone!

“You lied to me! I thought you cared about me? Last night was nothing but a ruse?” I cried, looking at her in anguish.

“Of course he is not gone, we needed to get you, so we planned to do it like this and get you out in the open,” she casually said, her body relaxed but poised for anything. “I do care about you, I care about hunting you!”

“Yes Claws, your type we specialise in hunting down for bounty, especially when there is a good profit to be made from it,” Marcus said, his voice low and angry. “Time to get going babe, we need to get him back to the boss.”

“Was it you? That killed my parents all those years ago, now that I think about it, you smiled a little when I told you the story last night,” I asked, looking up at her.

“Yes, we knew your parents were going out but we did not plan on a babysitter. That was why you were spared until you could grow up and then we could hunt you all over again,” she explained, then we can take you to the Boss.

The blow struck me and everything went black.

*****

I awoke in the cell, with the so-called Jolly fat man smiling down on me.

“Yes, I wanted you, I needed you in my zoo at last, you miscreant, and you will not escape it at all. I have made sure of it, I can finally say that you are in pride of place Claws, my favourite prey. Yes, I know I am much older than you, but I do not have enough mobility nowadays to get you myself. I used Cre’e hunters to finally capture you. Now I can have free reign over all the Earth, to finally feast on all the children of the earth,” he smiled, his mouth widening with his teeth on display. I finally heard the cries of millions of children, all missing since last night.

“Yes, time for the feasting to begin!” He chuckled.

Santa Claus is the real Monster, not me, I am simply a survivor. This is my memoir, written from my cell here in the North.