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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1737239
Santa Clause is coming to town, so you better be good for goodness sake.
Santa Claus and The Christmas Tree
By Stephen A Abell

Number Of Words: 2841



Come gather around ladies and gentlemen, scrotes and scrotessess, for I have a Christmas Tale to tell. Come huddle closer to the fire, as this little story may chill you a little...


Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess. Okay, so she wasn’t quite a princess, but she sure was beautiful, and that was to be her downfall. On one cold chilly December night, on the run up to the glorious day, the beautiful Angela arrived back at her apartment building after a long and tedious day at work. As she waited for the elevator to arrive she started to hear a soft breathing, coming from the shadows of the basement car park. She turned to see who else was with her in that lonely dark place. There was no one. Turning back to the elevator she watched the digital readout countdown the floor numbers. It stopped on the fifth. From the darkness a deep baritone voice quietly sang, “The holiday’s are comin’... The holiday’s are comin’...”

The elevator had now stopped on the third floor and Angela’s heart was beginning to race. The singing was drawing closer, “The holidays are comin’... The holiday’s are comin’...” Still she could spy no one in the parking lot.

“Ting,” went the elevator as its doors “swooshed” open, revealing the brightly lit, though empty and small, interior. Angela rushed into the cabin and repeatedly pressed the close door button rapidly. From outside the singing boomed, “The holiday’s are comin’... The holiday’s are comin...”

As the doors “swooshed” closed she let out a long sigh of relief.

A hand, clad in a black leather glove cut through the closing gap, stopping the doors and halting her escape.

A sharp shiver of dread and terror coursed down her spine, as cold as ice, when a second gloved hand pushed through the gap and began to pry the slowly doors apart.

My didn’t the beautiful Angela feel foolish when the gap sprang open to reveal Santa Claus standing outside, a big toothy smile radiating through his white beard. “HO! HO! HO!” He bellowed joyously and crowded the small elevator compartment, his big belly bouncing with every step.

“You scared me Santa,” Angela said, looking embarrassedly at the floor. “I bet you don’t hear that often,” she giggled softly, the laughter oozing with self-consciousness.

“Actually, my dear,” Santa’s tones were deep, delicious, and rich, and as warming and homely to her as a good brandy, “I get it more than I would like.” He smiled and leaned towards her, inviting her to lean forward and hear a secret. “Do you know that last year I was even mistaken for a home invasion. There were riot police, vans, and helicopters buzzing the neighbourhood. I really thought my time was up.”

Angela looked deep into Santa’s eyes and saw the tiny spark of jest hidden beneath. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you.”

“Ah, you see through me, dear lady. Yes indeed, I was pulling your pretty leg. Please forgive me.” With that Santa held out his hand. Without thought Angela took it in hers. Santa bent forward, raising the hands, and kissed her soft silky smooth skin. “My name is Ebeneezer.” Santa saw the incredulity in her wide stare. “Ebeneezer Bertram Russell, is my full monica, for my sins. Through the year I use Bertram and friends call me Bert. Though at this time of year, I do have a fondness for Ebeneezer.”

“I’m Angela,” she stuttered, unsure if she should’ve given her name to a stranger. “Do you live here? I’m not prying, it’s just it’s not everyday you ride an elevator with Santa, and I’ve not seen you around.”

“Alas, I am only here for the one night.” A sadness crept into his smile. “My dwellings are not as plush as these. As you may have guessed, I’m a store Santa. The wages are not as good as people believe, so when one of the store customers asked me if I would visit her disabled daughter, I couldn’t refuse.”

“That’s noble of you,” Angela softly said.

“Ah,” he sighed sadly, “It would be if I wasn’t doing it for the money too.” He smirked and patted his big belly. “This is all Santa too, no padding or stuffing. Keeping Santa in shape is no cheep business.”

“You certainly do look the part, Ebeneezer. That outfit is spectacular.”

“Thank you kindly. The wife made it for me. I played Santa at my daughter’s school pageant one year. I’ve always loved Christmas, though having kids really brings it home to you.”

“It must be a special occasion in your house then, do you go the hole hog?”

“Not anymore,” Santa snuffled as his voice lost all it’s joyful cheeriness, “I spend most of the day in the bar with a few of my friends.”

The beautiful Angela felt a troubled twinge inside, though before she could ask Santa why he had saddened so, the doors “swooshed” open and “tinged” their arrival. “This is me,” she said, offering her hand. Santa took it with less conviction than before. “Have a good Christmas,” she wished.

“Oh. Er. Yes,” Santa muttered, coming out of his thoughts, “you too my dear.” As the doors began to close Santa thrust his hands through the gap. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on,” he said as he shook the mentioned head and stepped out onto the landing.

Angela looked back, as Santa pointed to the opposite hallway and said, “I’m down here.” As she turned and walked towards her door she heard the soft singing, “The holidays are comin’... The holiday’s are comin’...”

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Now boys and girls, the real and true Santa Clause has a naughty and nice list; as you all should know, and I hope you’ve all been nice. Let me tell you, Ebeneezer was most definitely on the naughty list.

It was true he worked in a department store, and a major one at that. Maybe one you’ve been in. Maybe you’ve even sat on his knee...

It was the same store where the beautiful Angela did most of her shopping, and being a modern lady she had it all delivered. In the city, it’s easy to spot people who remind you of friends and family. They have similar eyes, or the shape of the mouth, maybe even the body shape. It’s just as easy in any major department store in any city.

Ebeneezer had first seen Angela the day he started working as Santa. He was amazed at the likeness between her and his deceased wife and daughter. She could’ve been a missing relative. Since the beautiful Angela had no children, he was nigh on invisible to her. He had followed her a few times. Not in his plush and luxurious Santa Suit, but in his normal everyday skivies. He became just another badly dressed man on the street. Once he had the street and building name, finding her details on the stores delivery computer was easy. It always paid to make friends, he’d found. He had staked out the apartment complex every night and made detailed reports of the tenants movements. Time was running out if his Christmas was to be perfect.

Tonight was the big night. So as the beautiful Angela unlocked her door and entered her apartment Ebeneezer unlocked and opened the door to his apartment. Though rented two weeks earlier under the pseudonym of Kristopher Kringle, this was the first time he’d stepped over the threshold. He pulled out his iPhone from the deep red velvet pocket and checked the time. It read 7 pm. He had three hours before his enjoyment would begin. He selected a music file and placed the earphone jacks in his ears, then hit play. Christmas carols took his memories and imagination to wondrous places.

The phone vibrated, it’s soundless alarm brought Ebeneezer out of his reveries. He quietly opened his door and just as quietly locked it behind him. It was time to collect his present.

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The apartment building was fifteen stories high and each floor had four apartments. On this floor only three were occupied. The living room was the furthest room from the entrance way, this would help a little if things got a bit noisy. On his nightly reconnaissance he soon noted traffic in and out of the building lessened greatly by ten o’clock. This was his optimal time. If he struck then, most of the tenants would be in their living rooms with either the television or stereo making enough noise to cover his entry... and hopefully his exit.

He stood outside Angela’s door and fumbled in the big pocket of his outfit for the lock picks. As he brought them out a thought flashed through his head... He reached out and took hold of the handle... Twisted... The latch moved... The door twitched open... It was a Christmas miracle.

He stepped quietly through the door and closed it softly. Down the hallway came the musical tones of a popular Christmas song, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”. The big joyful, teethy grin sprang to his face. He padded down the hallway, listening to Angela’s sweet tones join in with the chorus.

She spun, twirled, and danced in time with the song, as he watched her through the doorway, safe in the deep shadows of the hall. She laughed as the song ended, and flopped onto the couch.

He quickly pulled the syringe from his pocket, uncapped and prepped it, then strode purposefully from the door straight to the couch. Angela barely had to time to register the footfalls, let alone react to them. Ebeneezer’s large leather clad hand gabbed her hair and yanked her upright. He twisted her head sharply and plunged the needle point into the exposed and waiting flesh of her neck.

The beautiful Angela was in dreamland before she could say, “Santa!”

In his youth, young Ebeneezer had been a boy scout. Their motto was “Be Prepared!” It was a good motto. A motto to live by.

The old Ebeneezer unfastened the big buckle on his belt, unbuttoned the two bottom buttons of his jacket, and pulled down his big red trousers. Wrapped around his waist was Santa’s thick black hessian sack. Once he had righted his attire, he snapped the sack in the air, opening it fully. This was always the hardest part of the night; getting the pretty girl inside his sack. After twenty minutes of grunting, pulling, pushing, and twisting he tied the top of the bag with the gold chord he’d brought along. With one big, “hoy-up,” he hoisted the bag over his shoulder and headed for the door.

Within a few minutes Santa was behind the wheel of his SUV; red with silver and gold trim of course. His present safely stowed in the large boot section

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So while Santa makes his trip home, not to the north pole but to a normal abode on a normal street in a normal neighbourhood, let me expand upon Santa’s history - especially his family life.

You would think, wouldn’t you, that living with Santa would be grand - everyday being Christmas Day and such... well I did. Though for poor old Ebeneezer it wasn’t a Hallmark Greetings Card.

True enough, he loved Christmas and he loved to bestow presents on those he loved - namely his wife and daughter. Unfortunately for Ebeneezer the ladies were cut from the same cloth... they loved to receive. In fact they loved to receive so much they actually demanded gifts of affection. What neither of the galls knew though is that if you continually nag, and nag, for something, then the love with which that gift is sought with, bought with, and given with, tends to dwindle away over time and nags. This happened to Ebeneezer, who to be fair, had put up with the maxed out credit cards and the constant “I want”’s for the thirty-two years he’d known the missus, and for the sixteen years his daughter breathed. Then on Christmas nine years ago, Santa came to call... and he carried a large sharp knife.

Ebeneezer had sweated his bollocks off to pay for his daughters Sweet Sixteen birthday... Fuck MTV is what I say. For which he got received no thanks, only complaints that he was never around, always at work. Sometimes he thought his two ladies really did believe the Credit Card Faerie magically “Poofed” money into their account. So with little in the bank and the card so near it’s limit he was shocked by their Christmas demands. The wife wanted, nay needed, a new kitchen - with all the new appliances. While his daughter wanted a real-life pony.

Santa had awoken from deep in his mind and thundered through his brain, shouting and raving about his naughty and nice list, until Ebeneezer was forced into the darkness. When he finally fought back control of his mind, body, and soul, it was way too late.

He came too in the living room and was sickened by the sight that awaited him.

Every year afterward, about the start of December, Ebeneezer would here the “Ho! Ho! Ho!” as Santa started his yearly journey into the world. He knew it was no good to fight, he wasn’t strong enough. So in the end they came to a convenient arrangement. It was only once a year, after all.

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The lovely blue eyes of the beautiful Angela opened and she instinctively tried to scream. A muffled, “ARGH” hardly left her mouth - for you see Ebeneezer and Santa were prepared.

Angela was naked and strapped down to a large metal tabletop. The coldness was painful and she tried, unsuccessfully, one again to call out. It was so cold even her nipples hurt with their erectness.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” The jolly voice bellowed, “so you’re awake. Good. Now I can begin.”

Angela tried in vein to move her head and silently beg this bad Santa for an answer, but the straps about her forehead and chin allowed her no movement.

“Oh, poor little Angela,” Santa sneered, as he put on a plastic apron to protect his marvelous suit. “You remind me so much of Mrs. Claus and my dear daughter Miss. Claus. It’s the shape of your face; the hue and tone of your hair; you’re blue eyes.” A sadness stole into his voice, “sometimes I do miss them.”

Santa’s gloved hand flashed out and pinched Angela’s nipple, while his other grabbed a small hook suspended above the table. Before she could cry out he slid the sharp point through the erect skin. Her breast pulled upwards. The pain was immense. Though another muffled scream was the best she could do.

Just as quickly Santa hooked and hoisted her other nipple.

The beautiful and pain wracked Angela prayed for oblivion.

“Everybody, now-a-days is want, want, want.” The knife he drew from behind his back glistened in the light and the beautiful Angela pissed herself.

“You are a naughty girl,” Santa growled, as his hand dipped into the urine between her legs. “I was right to pick you, wasn’t I(?)” He smeared the damp glove across her face. “Such a bad and naughty girl...”

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Ebeneezer opened his eyes and looked directly at the morbid Christmas Tree, which sat in the corner of the room giving of a rank and putrid odor. Christmas had never smelt so bad.

Santa was a craftsman, no doubt about that. All the skill he used to make the “dear little ones” their toys was now on display in his front room. Every year, Ebeneezer couldn’t help but be amazed. The tree and it’s branches were made of carved bone, expertly created to fit together, and look seamless. The ornaments adorning the branches were made of the teeth, as well as the smaller bones of the feet and hands. The intestine was wrapped delicately around, like a strange dark snake. While tendons, ripped and flayed muscle had been thrown here and there. It was a travesty of beauty.

As he sat there in awe and wonder the aroma of cooking wafted in from the kitchen. Evidently they were having Santa’s favourite tonight, liver and onions.

Well, at least he wouldn’t need to buy any meat until Christmas and New Years were over and done with...

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So here we are at the end of my tale and I hope you’ve learnt a lesson or three...

Remember, Santa is quite real, so like the song “You better be good, for goodness sake!” Because inside everyone of us is a Christmas Tree...

So if you hear, “The holidays are comin’...” or a “Ho! Ho! Ho!”in’, then get your ass in gear and run like the fuckin’ wind. Don’t stop... Don’t slow down... Don’t look... For there might be a Jolly Fat Man in A Beautiful Red Suit right on your ass... and he may have a nice sharp knife!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night!



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