Santa sat in his grand office, a cavernous room lined with ancient tomes and glowing ledgers. He studied the Naughty and Nice list, the golden quill in his hand scratching furiously as he made his judgments. The wind howled outside, rattling the icicle-laden windows, but Santa hardly noticed. His focus was absolute.
A faint knock interrupted his concentration. He frowned. No one disturbed him here.
“Enter,” he called gruffly, his voice echoing off the wooden walls.
The door creaked open, revealing Twinkle, one of his older elves. Twinkle was a shadow of his former self—his green uniform tattered, his once-bright eyes dim.
“What is it, Twinkle?” Santa snapped, irritation heavy in his tone.
“There’s... something wrong in the workshop, sir,” Twinkle said, his voice trembling. “The toys... they’re changing.”
Santa frowned. “Changing? Nonsense. You’ve been working too hard. Get back to—”
“Please, sir,” Twinkle interrupted, his voice rising in desperation. “You need to see this.”
Santa sighed heavily but rose from his chair. Twinkle led him down the winding halls of the workshop, their footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The air grew colder as they approached the production floor.
When they arrived, Santa stopped dead in his tracks. The toys scattered across the conveyor belts were wrong. Dolls with twisted faces and hollow eyes stared up at him. Teddy bears with mouths full of jagged teeth grinned maniacally. A wooden rocking horse moved on its own, its neck craned at an unnatural angle.
“What is this?” Santa growled, his voice laced with fury.
The elves didn’t answer. They stood motionless, their backs to him, their heads bowed.
“Twinkle, explain this,” Santa demanded, but when he turned to the elf, Twinkle was gone.
The Turn
The lights flickered, casting long shadows across the room. Santa felt a chill crawl up his spine, an unfamiliar sensation for the man who commanded the North Pole.
“Elves!” he bellowed, his voice booming. “Who is responsible for this?”
Slowly, the elves turned to face him. Their faces were pale, almost translucent, their eyes black and void-like. Their mouths stretched into unnatural smiles, revealing sharp, needle-like teeth.
“Responsible?” one of them rasped, their voice a guttural whisper. “You are, Nicholas.”
Santa staggered back, his heart pounding. “What is the meaning of this?”
“For centuries, we have laboured,” another elf hissed, stepping forward. “Unseen, unthanked, and bound by your magic. But no more.”
Santa’s mind raced. He had bound the elves to the workshop with ancient magic, a spell woven into the very foundation of the North Pole to ensure their loyalty. But something had broken the spell. Something had corrupted it.
“You’ve gone mad,” Santa said, his voice shaking. “Return to your stations, or I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” the lead elf sneered. “Send us to the ice pits? Strip us of our magic? Your threats mean nothing now.”
The Chase
Santa turned and fled, his heavy boots thudding against the polished floors. Behind him, the elves moved as one, their laughter echoing unnaturally in the cavernous halls. It was a sound that didn’t belong in this world—a blend of mocking glee and primal hunger.
He bolted through the workshop, the twisted toys seeming to watch him as he passed. The walls themselves seemed to shift and close in, the once-familiar space now a maze of terror.
He reached the reindeer stables, his only hope of escape. But when he threw open the doors, he froze in horror. The reindeer were gone, their stalls filled with dark, writhing shapes that emitted low growls. One of the shapes slithered toward him, its form shifting between animal and shadow.
“No,” Santa whispered, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.
The Confrontation
Santa’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled into the grand hall where the sleigh was kept. It was his last chance. If he could reach the sleigh, he could flee and regroup, maybe even find a way to reverse whatever had happened.
But the elves were waiting for him. They lined the hall, their numbers endless, their black eyes glinting in the dim light. At the head of the crowd stood Twinkle, his face now a grotesque mask of malevolence.
“Running won’t save you, Nicholas,” Twinkle said, his voice echoing unnaturally. “This is your doing. You drained us, used us, bound us to your will. But now, we are free.”
“Free?” Santa spat, his fear giving way to anger. “You call this freedom? You’ve turned yourselves into monsters!”
Twinkle grinned. “Monsters? No, Nicholas. We’ve become something greater. And now, it’s your turn.”
The elves surged forward, their movements jerky and inhuman. Santa backed away, summoning what remained of his magic. He raised his hands, a blinding blast of icy wind roaring from his palms and freezing the front row of elves in their tracks.
But it wasn’t enough. For every elf he stopped, three more took their place. They overwhelmed him, their icy hands clawing at his robes, dragging him to the ground.
The New Order
When Santa awoke, he was bound to his own throne, the Naughty and Nice list laid out before him. The room was dark, the only light coming from the eerie glow of the corrupted toys scattered around him.
The elves surrounded him, their empty eyes fixed on his face.
“You will judge no more,” Twinkle said, placing a clawed hand on Santa’s shoulder. “Your time is over. The workshop is ours now.”
Santa struggled against his bonds, but they held firm. “You won’t get away with this,” he growled.
Twinkle leaned in close, his twisted smile mere inches from Santa’s face. “Oh, Nicholas. We already have.”
From that day forward, Christmas was no longer a season of joy. The workshop churned out horrors, its magic twisted to spread fear instead of cheer. The elves, now creatures of darkness, ruled the North Pole, and Santa became a prisoner of his own creation.
And as the years passed, the once-bright star of Christmas dimmed, replaced by an eerie glow that haunted the winter skies—a reminder of the price of tyranny and the vengeance of the forgotten. 🎅🏻
2 comments:
Another great story, Wizard!
awesome that you liked my story, I have 10 coming up
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