The Day Before Christmas

“Hey, we’re getting low on reindeer feed! Who forgot to order it last week?”

Bippy’s head ducked low. Scrunching his shoulders up high, the fur collar of his elven work coat nearly covered his entire head. “Umm, that might have been me.” The confession squeaked out of him like the cry of a stepped-on mouse.

“Again, Bip?” Kiffen, the stablemaster, asked. His eyes rolled up to stare at the barn rafters. “Father Time, grant me the patience I need to deal with this forgetful elf.”

“What ye ought to do is tan his hide, Kiff.” A gnarled old elf missing a few fingers and sporting a patch over his left eye grunted as he tossed another shovelful of reindeer droppings into a wheelbarrow. “Nip the tip of that right ear off and he’ll not be forgetting again.”

Bippy’s eyes widened to the point he thought they might pop out and roll across the floor. “Th – th – that’s not necessary, Uncle Kiffen. I – I – I promise not to forget anymore.”

“Hush now, Gruff,” Kiff admonished. He shot a warning look at his elder. “We don’t do things like back in your day.”

Gruff snorted. “If ye did, ye’d have yer deer food.” He turned back to his work.

Bippy was fingering the tip of his right ear, biting his lip. Forgotten was the stack of hay at his feet that he was supposed to be tossing into the stall next to him.

Kiffen sighed, slowly walking over to his nephew. He deliberately counted down from twelve in his head to calm his rising irritation. “And a partridge in a pear tree…” he finished. Counting usually worked, but where Bippy was concerned, it had less success than a salad with Santa this time of year.

Vixen ambled over to stick his head out of his stall. He took in the scene, rolling his eyes at Kiff and shook his head. The little bells on his antlers jingled out what he couldn’t say. Not again. We’re going to starve tonight.

“Look, Bip,” Kiff started, waving his hand to get the boy’s attention. “You’re family, so you’ve gotten extra chances, but if you don’t make this right, then…”

“I will have failed in every department of Santa’s workshop, and I’ll be sent out into the forest with nothing but a stick to hunt for food and I’ll freeze to death!” Bippy wailed, bursting into tears.

“Chestnuts!” Kiffen’s cheeks went red at the curse word, but he couldn’t help it. “Who in the world gave you that idea?” A snicker from behind had him rolling his eyes again. “Bip, I’ve told you not to listen to Gruff, haven’t I?”

Bippy nodded, swiping his nose with the sleeve of his coat.

“What I was going to say is… then I’ll have to talk to Santa.” Kiffen said quietly.

No elf had ever failed to find his place in Santa’s village. Oh, some people had made a movie about an elf wanting to be a dentist, but that was just ridiculous. Everyone knew the magical enamel of elf teeth made them impervious to cavities.

“What’ll I do? It’s Christmas Eve!” Bippy blurted out.

“Go to the kitchens and see what Cook can spare to fill the reindeers’ bellies.”

“But Cook said he would put ME in the pot the next time I set foot in his kitchen!” Bippy grabbed both ears this time and was holding tightly to their tips.

“I’m sure he was joking.”

“He wasn’t!” Gruff’s curt reply echoed inside the stall he was cleaning.

Bippy opened his mouth to wail again.

Kiffen shook his head firmly. “No more crying. This is your mess, Bip. Now, go figure out how to make it better! You can do this!”

Bippy gave a shaky nod, squared his little shoulders and sent a glare towards the stall where Gruff was still shoveling. He turned and ran out of the stables as fast as his little legs could carry him.

“I give him a fifty-fifty chance.” Kiff crossed his arms, watching Bip leave, and tried to muster a reassuring smile for Vixen. The reindeer held his gaze for a moment, then rolled his eyes and kicked his stable door twice. “You’re right. We’re frosted for sure.” Kiff’s ears drooped.



“Bip, where did Cook get these carrots?”

Kiffen had been skeptical when Bippy had come back with a wagon load of carrots being pulled by polar bears. Watching the reindeer munching through trough after trough of the veggies, he felt a flicker of unease. The more they ate, the more ravenous they became. Blitzen was snorting and stamping as he tore through another bunch.

“Umm… well,” Bippy shuffled his feet. “I sorta didn’t get them from Cook,” he whispered.

Bip swallowed hard as Dasher shifted his head and locked eyes with him. For a brief moment, the deer’s stare flickered a glowing red, then it faded back to normal, and he turned back to eating.

“What?” Kiff sounded like he was choking on something. “Where did you get them, then?”

“Well, I was on my way to the kitchen,” Bip spoke slowly, kicking dirt with the curled toe of his boot. “When I sort of bumped into someone…” He trailed off.

“Bumped into who, Bip?”

“Me!”

From behind them, a blast of frigid air burst open the stable doors. Laughter filled the building, echoing off the walls.

Kiffen covered his ears. Bippy hid behind his uncle.

Striding into the stable as if he owned it, was a lithe teenage boy dressed in the lightest shades of blue mixed with white. Frost coated his eyebrows. His skin was the color of fresh snow.

“Jack,” Kiffen’s voice was flat when he addressed the newcomer.

“Mr. Frost to you, little elf.” Jack patted the stablemaster on the head and then quickly stooped down and around him to come face to face with Bippy. “Hello, again, Bipster.” He winked at Kiff’s nephew and laughed heartily when the young elf whimpered.

“What are you doing here? Santa ordered you to stay away from his turf.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. So he did, didn’t he?” Jack gave a shrug and held his stare on Bippy for a moment longer. Finally, he straightened and shifted his gaze to Kiffen. The corners of his mouth curled up just slightly and there was a cold twinkle in his eyes.

Kiffen squared his chin, refusing to cower. “What did you do to the carrots, Jack?”

“Do to them?” Jack’s brow furrowed. His shoulders lifted in an exaggerated shrug. “I didn’t do anything to them. I gave them to a friend in need.” The long fingers of his left hand unfurled in an elegant gesture towards Bippy.

“Yer not his friend, ye long-legged sorry excuse for a frozen fish stick.” Gruff came stomping out of the stable where he had been working. He eyed the increasingly agitated line of reindeer and stopped in his tracks.

Lifting his nose to the air, he sniffed once, twice, three times and then blew air out from his nostrils in a furious blast. “Tell me ye didn’t, Jackie,” he growled. “Tell me ye didn’t just give them reindeer Curdled Carrots.”

For the first time since his grand entrance to the stable, Jack’s mischievous bravado slipped. He took a wary step backwards, keeping a watchful gaze on Gruff. “I thought you dead and buried in an ice cave, old elf,” he hissed. The fingers of his right hand curled into a loose ball. A shimmering, rotating snowball formed and hovered above his palm.

“It’ll take more than a little cold to stop this heart, Jackie,” Gruff retorted. “Wish the same could be said for you.” Gruff spat on the ground without breaking his eyes away from Jack.

“Umm… Uncle Kiff?” Bip’s voice squeaked. He raised a trembling hand towards the reindeer. “Why do they look like that?”

Kiffen spun and felt his jaw drop at the sight of his beloved reindeer.

Their fur was shedding rapidly, dropping away to reveal rotting flesh underneath. Their eyes burned a bright pulsing red. Every set of antlers had grown black spikes, and their mouths were now full of slathering, pointed canine teeth.

For the moment, they stood at their line of troughs, stomping and pawing at the ground. They writhed, seemingly fighting against whatever dark magic was transforming them. A few of them nipped and kicked at one another.

“Oh, umm…” Jack’s hand had fallen to his side, the snowball plopping to the ground and hissing there for a moment before melting away. The angry lines of his face softened and slid into shocked dismay. “They weren’t supposed to do… that. They were just supposed to make them a little sick!"

“Curdled Carrots don’t make ye sick. They make ye undead.” Gruff barked out, turning to face the threat behind him. He reached over to the stable wall, banging a fist against the wood. A panel slid sideways, and a warhammer fell out into his hand.

“Wait! We can’t hurt them!” Bippy skittered out to stand between the transformed reindeer and everyone else. “It’s not their fault! You did this! You fix it!” Bip pointed a finger at Jack, his little face scrunching up in anger.

“Me? You were the one who gave them the carrots!” Jack frowned hard at Bip, raising his chin a notch. “This is your fault!”

“Children! Can we please focus on the problem at hand?!” Kiffen heard the shrill tone to his voice and cleared his throat. “Bip’s right. We can’t kill them, but how do we fix them before they kill us?!”

Jack snorted, still smarting at being called a child. “Kill you guys, maybe. Not me.” He tapped his chest over his heart. “Frozen solid, remember?”

“Yer flesh may be cold as ice, but it’s still flesh, boy,” Gruff growled. “Ye so sure it can’t be zombified?”

Jack shot a disgruntled look at the back of the old elf’s head but couldn’t fault his reasoning. He shrugged. Flipping the collar on his jacket up around his neck, he flashed a cocky grin at no one in particular. “Heh, no problem. Watch this.”

Stretching out a lanky arm, Jack flicked a finger. Somehow, the chilled air of the stable suddenly felt even colder. Tiny snowflakes formed in front of them. In swirling streams, they flew together and began forming a solid wall of ice and snow that grew thicker and taller until it spanned between the stables and up to the rafters.

“There! No way they’re getting through that,” Jack said triumphantly.

An unearthly howl sounded from beyond the barrier. A crash from the other side shook the wall. Then, in the dead middle of the expanse, drips began to form and trickle down to the ground. Faster and faster, the drops turned into a gush. Through the small hole that was forming, a red glow could be seen wavering through the surrounding ice.

“Chesnuts,” breathed a stunned Kiffen. “Rudolph’s nose doesn’t just light up anymore guys! He’s melting through! Run!”

Grabbing his nephew, Kiff ran over to a rope ladder and shoved Bippy up it in front of him. When they reached the loft above, the stablemaster shouted for Gruff and Jack to join them, but they were nowhere to be seen. A great gust of wind blew Bippy and his uncle further back. Jack hovered beside the loft, riding the wind and holding a red-faced Gruff.

“Put me down, you gangly legged icicle!”

Jack tossed Gruff onto the floorboards. Coughing, the weathered old elf scrambled to his feet and ran over to yank the rope ladder up.

“You’re welcome,” Frost said, then gracefully executed a flip and roll onto the loft floor. He strode over to look below, his face grim at what he saw.

Where the ice wall once stood was a sea of mud. Milling around in it were the undead reindeer with Rudolph at their center. One side of his muzzle was bare where the flesh had fallen away.

The creak of the stable door had everyone turning towards the sound. Through the opening a little snow hare hopped inside, lifting its head to sniff at the weird scent it had noticed. Nine sets of hooves leapt into action, a stampede heading towards one terrified little bunny.

“No!” Kiffen cried out, his arm stretching towards a creature he had no way of saving.

Gruff bowed his head, stoic in the sad knowledge that nothing could be done.

“Oh, that’s not happening,” Jack muttered.

Throwing one hand out, he swirled his fingers in a circle and then pulled them back towards his chest. The bunny was lifted by a gust of wind and came hurtling like a rabbit bullet towards the loft. Jack’s other hand went flat and straight up, his palm shoving towards the stable door.
It swung closed with a bang, a layer of ice forming over it.

Crouching low, Jack curved his arms, keeping his eyes on the white streak heading towards them. The arctic ball of fur landed safely in his arms as he received it like a star football player intercepting the other team’s ball. He cuddled it against his chest and cooed to it.

“What the…?” Gruff stood slack-jawed, then started to snicker.

“Hush, Gruff.” Kiff stood, frowning at the old elf. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Hey, I’m not a monster, guys.” He curled his arms around the bunny defensively. “Contrary to what some might say…” He flicked a glare at Gruff, who snorted in response.

“Sealed me in an ice cave!” Gruff shouted, pointing at Jack.

“Tried to set me on fire and throw me into a volcano!” Jack retorted.

“Guys! Zombie reindeer trying to kill us… RIGHT NOW!” Kiff hollered, gesturing frantically over the edge of the loft. “Can this wait? PLEASE? Wait a second,” Kiffen’s head whipped around. “Where’s Bip?”



Bip’s feet flew across the snowy path through the woods. Slipping out the window and shimmying down the rain pipe to the ground had been terrifying, but he had finally thought of what to do to fix things.

Coming to a skidding halt, he bent over to draw gasps of air into his aching lungs. When he could finally stand up without fear of passing out, he saw the exact thing he was hoping to see. In the middle of the clearing, there was a grouping of trees whose trunks were woven together to form a throne.

“Please hear me.” Bip pleaded as he rushed forward, dusted snow off the seat and hopped up to sit down. “I need your help, please!” His cry echoed, fading until all was silent. A tear slipped down his cheek.

A gentle warmth spread through his body. The snow around the throne slowly melted away and a small circle of wildflowers burst from the ground, growing thick and releasing their sweet scent. A beautiful woman stood in the middle of them.

“You heard me,” Bip said softly.

“Yes. Let’s go fix what got broken, ok?” She held out a hand.

Bip nodded. “We have to hurry!”

“I know.”

They blinked out of existence.



“Gah!! Can’t you do something!” Gruff screamed at Jack. The old elf stomped on another set of zombie deer hooves that appeared at the edge of the loft.

“I have my limits, elf!” Jack panted, swinging a broom at Dancer, who had leapt high enough to get a hoofhold on the edge. Trickles of sweat streaked down his face, which was looking more pink by the second. As his magic was depleted, he had started to warm up, and slow down. “I’ve got to lay down for a second…” he murmured, collapsing.

“Oh, great,” Kiffen groaned, looking over the edge. “They’re forming a pyramid. We can’t keep this up.”

“You don’t have to! I got help,” Bip cried out from the window. He clambered through, followed by a breathtakingly beautiful woman. Her entrance was graceful, despite the circumstances.

“My lady,” Gruff greeted her with a low bow.

“Are you…?” Kiff trailed off, unable to do more than gape at her.

“Yes,” she replied, nodding at him.

Her graceful stride took her over to kneel swiftly at Jack’s side. Reaching one hand towards the open window, she placed the other over top his heart. Snowflakes began to fly through the opening in a thin, steady stream. They swirled round her one hand, leaping across to the other and down onto Jack’s body where they melted against his chest.

Within moments, his color faded to the chilled white visage he was supposed to have. The snow no longer melted on him, instead it formed a little pile atop his heart and then sank into him. His eyes fluttered open. “Hey, mom,” he whispered weakly.

“Been shopping at the Dark Market again? Carrots?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack winced. His gaze focused on her crown of wildflowers. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

She sighed. “What did he look like? The guy who sold them to you.”

“Umm…” he said, sitting up. “Tall, dark cloak, big scythe.”

“Grim,” Gruff growled. “Has to be him, my lady.”

“Yes, the Reaper would find this amusing, I suppose.” She stood up.

“Look out!” Kiff screamed, waving his hands towards Rudolph who had managed to make it to the top of the zombie reindeer pyramid. The undead deer lunged for Mother Nature.

Without looking towards the danger, she lifted her hand and spread her fingers wide. A burst of golden glitter shot towards Rudolph. As it struck him, he shuddered. When he landed, he was completely back to normal.

He walked over to nuzzle her hand, and she gave him a hug around the neck. “Hello, there sweetheart. Let’s go fix your buddies, ok? Then, I shall have a word with Grim.”

“And me?”

She looked at Jack, arching a graceful eyebrow.

“Grounded?”

“So very grounded.”

Gruff barked a laugh.

Kiffen ruffled Bip’s hair. “Let’s go talk to Santa.”

Bip gulped and nodded.

Word Count = 2994

Contest Entry for The Writing Dead, December 2024
Prompt: A zombie outbreak at Santa’s Village in the North Pole.

The Writing Dead  [18+] #2330983 From rot to plot, the Zombie Apocalypse deserves great storytellers. by Merremy Christmas!