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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Psychology · #1361308
Santa is not always such a jolly individual.
It was raining. Not the sort of weather a boy like Alim thought of when he thought of Christmas, but this Christmas was special anyways.

"Alim, are you joking with me? I saw Daddy bring down the presents last year."

"Don't worry Khalid, Santa's coming this year, I promise." At least he should, as long as Joe's on time. Alim was seventeen, it was his job to make sure his kid brother enjoyed Christmas to its fullest for as long as possible. If that meant getting their neighbor dressed up in a red suit, so be it.

He glanced up at the clock. 11:40. Joe would walk in through the back door in another five minutes. Almost on cue, a loud bang came from the roof.

Khalid jumped, excitement in his eyes. "What the? Is that him!?"

"Uh, yeah yeah. Quiet down so he doesn't notice us." What is going on? Is he really gonna try and come from the roof? He waited, staring at the roof curiously, some nagging part of him certain that something wasn't right.

An excited whisper from his brother brought his attention back to the living room. "It's Him!"

Alim turned, his eyes narrowing in suspicion at the sight of a large man standing in the living room, a large red sack slung over his right shoulder. That isn't Joe!

The man lowered the sack to the ground slowly, reaching inside the moment it settled. His hand came out holding a long green package wrapped with a red bow. He turned to place it under the tree, a smile clearly visible on his face.

Alim glanced down at his brother. Khalid didn't notice, his eyes wide with joy at the sight before him. The older brother looked back up to the intruder. He leaned down, whispering into Khalid's ear. "Where did he come from?"

Khalid's eyes never lost their wonder as he responded, "He came out of the fireplace. I don't know how he fit, but he did!"

Certain that it was some sort of trick, Alim muttered, "Don't move, brother," and began to creep forwards. The man in the red suit didn't notice him, pleasantly humming to himself as he unloaded another present without looking back at the bag. Alim was only a few feet away when he reached out to touch the bag, and suddenly was surrounded by darkness.



Santa finished unloading packages, then turned with a slight start at the sound of a gasp behind him. A small boy was standing at the door to the room, a shocked look on his face. Santa grinned at the child, putting one finger up beside his nose and chuckling quietly, his stomach bouncing slightly with each chuckle. The child's expression remained unchanged, which surprised Santa slightly, but he was out of time. He turned to the empty fireplace, concentrated briefly, and went sliding up the chimney, coming out just beside the exit on the roof, a sleigh with nine reindeer only a few steps away. With a short hop, he was in the sleigh, his hands already holding the reins. He called out to the reindeer, each by name, and took off from the roof with a cry, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a goon night!"

His laughter faded slowly into the distance, swallowed up in the rain, but it continued for miles as the little sleigh made its way north, faster than any jet. Gradually the joyous sound faded to a wide smile, that slowly became a soft grin. Even the grin faded once the only thing to be seen was ice in all directions, a sad and pained expression coming over the suddenly tired features of Santa. The aurora borealis apeared in front of the sleigh, as suddenly as it did every year, and in an instant it was gone.



Santa slowly released the reins, stepping from the sleigh heavily, bringing his sack with him. She was waiting for him, as usual, with her red dress and expressionless servants. He flinched, as he always did, when her smooth voice filled the oppulent chamber his sleigh had appeared in. "Welcome home darling. I trust you enjoyed your fun?"

Santa sighed, a his voice capitulant when he answered. "Yes, mistress. I enjoyed it immensely."

Mrs. Claus lifted her chin haughtily, a smug grin twisting her otherwise perfect features. "Oh good, then it seems I was right to allow you to continue to have your hour of freedom." Her expression didn't change as her voice grew cold and harsh. "Now you'll be that much more useful to me for the rest of the year." She turned, walking calmly away towards her suite as her servants moved forwards to place shackles on Santa's wrists and ankles. He did not resist.



Santa sighed as he was finally left alone in his cell, setting his sack on the cold ground. He hadn't been able to get to as many houses this year, the rainstorm he'd run into covereed a lot more ground than he would have expected. With a sad sigh about the leftover presents, he upended the sack, a veritable torrent of packages pouring out, filling the small chamber almost completely. Santa turned to pull the lever, dumping the unused presents, then stopped as he heard a muffled cry come from under the packages. He whipped around, digging through the packages until Alim came into sight, eyes wide and confused.

The large man's face melted into despair at the sight, his heart breaking just a little more.

Alim found his voice first. "You really are Santa! Where am I? Is this the north pole?"

Alim's excitement only deepened the rosy-cheeked figure. His voice was heavy as he answered. "Yes. This is North Pole."

The boy looked around, his confusion only deepening. "I . . . I sort of expected it to be . . . nicer." The teen expression grew a bit frightened when Santa's shackles registered in his mind. "Why are you in chains?"

Santa sat back slowly on his bed, the mattress creaking almost as loudly as the rusty frame. "Because I am home." His back slouched as he spoke, utter resignation in every syllable. "I love children. I have always, for as long as I had any power, used it to bring joy to young ones all around the world." He looks towards the heavy wooden door, shaking his head sadly. "I was too selfish. I thought that as long as I was bringing happiness to so many, I couldn't possibly be acting selfishly."

Alim looked closer at the shackles. The calluses under them were years old. "I don't understand, what's going on?"

"I was so enthralled with my ability to bring so much happiness to so many children that I completely neglected my wife, forgetting that she had her own power. Eventually she used it. Now I have only an hour of freedom each year. I can only reach a few hundred houses with each trip, most think I'm not even real anymore." Santa raised his head, a tear falling from his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

Before Alim could ask why, the door opened with a loud slam, Mrs. Claus pushing in closely followed by her servants, still utterly devoid of any emotion. She brought her hands together with a mocking clap. "Oh, how wonderful, you did think of me this year! I do so love it when you bring me new servants."

Alim managed a single cry before the servants took him, squirming and fighting, from the room. The cold woman watched silently before leaning over and giving her husband a single tender kiss on the cheek. He could only cry quietly, one hand holding his cheek, as the door slammed behind her sweeping skirts.
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