Happy 'Horror' Days

Insanity

A Spin-Off

~Happy ‘Horror’ Days~

*Warning! The Characters May Be Completely Different!*

*Warning! If you believe in Santa this may crush your spirit!*

“Blue! It moved!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“You know that people say that Santa isn’t real, right? Not that you would care—”

“I tell you it moved!”

Arisa and Blue sat at the top of the stairs through the bars and looked at the fireplace. The five year old girl was convinced that she had seen a log move and some dust fall from the chimney.

The cookies were on a small round table a few feet away from the chimney. A glass of milk sat right beside the large plate. It was good enticement for the man in the red suit and it was perfectly place so that the children could see the man that was pulled around in a sleigh.

Blue the older boy by one year was tired. He already knew that Santa didn’t exist but didn’t want to ruin it for his sister. He had been more than willing to let her keep believing it but she had dragged him out of bed and forced him to sit vigil with her that night. Now he was on the brink of ruining her childhood by telling her that poor Rudolph was hit by a red-neck truck while Dasher smashed through the windshield. Comet drowned in a nearby pool and Vixen was plowed by the blow truck behind the truck. Blitzen got blitzed by a naughty boys BB gun that had the fake plastic pellets taken out and was refurbished into a make shift M-16. Cupid met an untimely end when a hunter with a bow and arrow was trying to take down a buck when the idiotic flying monster got into the cross fire. Dancer danced his last steps before sliding on a patch of ice that sent him, or her, into the thing that turns your cut branches into mulch. Prancer pranced into a similar fate when a tree decided that life was no longer worth living for and toppled over. Donner nearly escaped but crashed into the back of a garbage truck and was crushed. And what of poor Santa? The fat man survived the whole ordeal but after seeing the bloody carnage, and as a result of too many cookies and milk, he had a heart attack and died. And just to dig the knife in further, he would tell her that it all happened in front of their house.

But because he loved his sister, he said nothing and subjected himself to the torment of sleeplessness.

“You hear that?” Arisa’s eyes got very wide.

Blue listened. There was a scraping sound in the chimney. Dirt and ash fell on the logs below. Blue’s eyes widened as Arisa jumped up and down on her bottom. The scraping increased and the anticipation was too great that Arisa could no longer wait. Her eyes darted back and forth from the tray of cookies and to the open chimney. Suddenly, she stood up and ran down the stairs. Blue ran after her.

The scraping continued as the two children stood just behind the tray of cookies. Blue told himself over and over again that this couldn’t be real. Santa died from a heart attack. No, he didn’t! He just doesn’t exist. HE DOESN’T EXIST!!! But here was evidence saying otherwise. Arisa was about to explode with excitement when a large…something…fell onto the logs.

Some of the logs rolled out of the fireplace. A large log rolled over to the children’s feet and stopped. They stared at the log for a few seconds in silence. There was a low groan that captured their attention. They looked up and saw an ash covered figure shifting about in the ash.

“Oh, my aching back,” the blob said in a slight British accent.

The children took a large step back. A large figure stood up and out of the fireplace. Arisa screamed and ran behind the couch. Blue stood there staring at the tall towering figure.

“Are you…Santa?” Blue asked.

“What?” the figure asked looking around.

The figure had on a dirty old robe that touch the floor and an old scrawny hat. Long white hair fell down from his hat. His bangs had covered his eyes and kept getting in the way. He finally looked down and saw the boy in front of him. A crooked smile spread across his face.

“Well, hello there,” he said, he crouched down, “What is your name?”

“Are you Santa?” a tentative voice called from behind the couch.

The man looked up, “You mean the fat guy in red? I’m sorry missy, but as you see I’m neither fat nor red.”

Arisa moaned in disappointment. Blue still stood there stunned. The man looked around.

“You mind if I help myself?” he asked looking at the cookies.

Arisa stepped out, “Those are for Santa!”

“Sorry, to tell you kid, but the fan man doesn’t exist,” the man said with a mouth full of cookie.

“He does too!”

“Does not.”

“Does too!

“Can’t say that he does.”

“Prove it!”

“How can a fat man with scrawny reindeer pulling him get up into the sky?”

“Magic!”

The man downed his first cookie with a glass of milk, “I’ll show you magic.”

He walked over to her and knelt down on his knees. The first thing he did was present his dirty empty hands to her. When she saw that there was nothing in his hands, Arisa nodded. He placed his long candle like fingers behind her ear. With a flick of the  wrist, he withdrew his hand and held a cookie.

“You know how I did that?” he asked taking a bite of the cookie as pink sprinkles fell on his filthy overcoat.

Wide eyed, Arisa shook her head. One small hand was raised up to her ear. How long had a cookie that size been in there?

“I hid a cookie in my sleeve. Magic doesn’t really exist.”

“What about Rudolph?” Arisa asked with hands on her hips.

“What about Rudolph?” the man’s said dismissively, “Did Rudolph’s parents have red noses?”

Arisa thought a moment about the Christmas show, “No she said slowly.”

“Did any of the other reindeer have red noses?”

“No…”

“Either Rudolph had some freaky genetic mutation or he’s the next stage of reindeer existence.”

Arisa didn’t understand half of what the man said but it didn’t sound good for poor Rudolph.

“Who are you?” Blue finally got up the nerve to speak again.

“The lads on the street call me Undertaker. My home turf is in the alley way beside the funeral home on Mable Street. The others ask me why and I just say ‘So that they can find me right there at least and give me a proper burial when I succumb to this horrible thing called winter’. However,” another bite of cookie, “I have survived the last few.”

“Last few?” Blue looked over the man, “Don’t you mean the last billion?”

“Now, now, kid, we all deserve to feel young. Don’t ruin it for the rest of us,” he licked his fingers of sprinkles before going on his way back to the plate.

He drank up to half of the cup of milk and was starting to delicately choose another cookie.

“What about the presents?” Arisa asked.

“What about the presents?” Undertaker dismissed the question.

“How do the presents get here if Santa doesn’t bring them?” she asked.

“Look at the tree,” Undertaker pointed behind him.

The presents were already stacked and ready to be torn in to. Arisa had never realized that before. During all her stakeouts she had over looked them. But how did they get there?

“Do you watch T.V.?” Undertaker asked.

Arisa and Blue nodded.

“Do you see all those commercials telling you to want stuff?”

“I want a My Little Pony!” Arisa jumped.

“Yeah, yeah, good for you,” munch, “That is where your presents come from.”

Arisa cocked her head, “The T.V. gives us our presents?”

“No, your parents see the commercials and hear your ‘I wants’. Then they go to the store and buy them. This time of the year is the most likely time to go into dept you know, like owe money. Then they wrap all the presents in pretty little sheets of paper and give all the credit to a fat man in a suit.”

Both pairs of eyes stared at the man in horror. Blue of course knew these things but didn’t realize the extent of the deception. They could be poor because of Christmas? They could end up like this homeless man, on the streets in filth and grime? Arisa on the other hand was hearing this for the first time. She was trembling at the idea that it was her parents who did all the work and not a man at night like she had though. Arisa stared at the presents under the tree with such fear that this slightly concerned the man. Only slightly, mind you.

He pulled up a chair beside the plate of cookies. He munched away and sipped his milk as the two children were undergoing Christmas shock. Soon he stood up with two cookies in hand and handed them to the children. They ate in peace for a while.

After that Undertaker stood up, stretched and sighed. He ate the last of the cookies and downed the milk.

“We thank you for your hospitality; it really has been a pleasure.” The man said as he walked to the front door.

“Where are you going?” Blue asked.

Undertaker looked back, “To the next house. This is the best time because they have food just lying there. At this rate, I’ll have to start taking them to-go,” he opened the door, “Oh; you know that mess with the fireplace? Could you take responsibility for that? Thanks a bunch.”

He was about to close the door when Arisa called out.

“Wait! Will we ever see you again?” she asked quietly.

Undertaker sighed, “It’s usually against my policy to communicate with anyone I technically steal from.”

“Technically?” Blue’s eyes narrowed.

The man shrugged, “Apparently it’s against the law or something. Stupid, right? But I guess I can make an exception. You’ll usually find me where I told you. But this week I’m business hopping. You know those red kettles? There’s a fortune of change in just one of those things! Me and the lads would be eating like kings and McDonalds or something.”

Blue slapped his own forehead.

“Hey, don’t judge! You haven’t experienced the hardships of living out doors. Speaking of which, I best be going.” The man closed the door and was gone.

Ironically, the next time the two went to school, all the children who had believed in Santa before the break no longer did so.