by Cindy Heart
The Alien Reindeer’s Winter Cabin
A Winter Starr
Cindy Heart
The Alien Reindeer’s Winter Cabin
A Winter Starr
Cindy Heart
Copyright © 2019 Cindy Heart
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without express written permission of the copyright holder. This book contains sexually explicit content which is suitable only for mature adults.
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Contents
1. Rein’ok
2. Holly
3. Rein’ok
4. Holly
5. Rein’ok
6. Holly
7. Rein’ok
8. Holly
9. Rein’ok
10. Holly
11. Rein’ok
12. Holly
13. Rein’ok
14. Holly
15. Rein’ok
16. Holly
17. Rein’ok
18. Are you a STARR HUNTRESS?
Rein’ok
“You’ll never be happy alone and without a purpose, but I suppose you won’t learn that until you follow through with this plan of yours. Good luck, Rein’ok. Ho ho ho.”
The fat man in the red suit climbs back into his sleigh and disappears in the night sky.
Still in my reindeer form, I scamper through the snow.
It’s not enough.
I need to shed that old life as surely as I need to shed these antlers. It’s time for new growth, a new life.
A whole new me.
I shift into the shape Saint Nick always called my human form. It wasn’t until a year ago when I committed to starting this new life that I even knew what a human or Earth was. Each time I’d visited in the past, it was just more beings on yet another planet as we zoomed around the universe delivering presents on yet another special night to the locals.
No longer.
I’m free.
After shifting, I have no clothes. Who needs that restriction, anyway?
I run naked through the snow. It’s cold, but I refuse to shift into my reindeer form. It’s bearable, and if I have my way, I’ll never assume my animal shape again. It’s taken forty years to work up the nerve to break free from Kris Kringle and the grind and the constant cheerful singing of the elves.
I didn’t even bother to look in advance at what the new cabin Saint Nick promised me looks like. Anything is better than living in the stables in a winter wonderland. Whatever it takes to get away from that monstrous perversion of merriment is good enough for me.
I’m done with society. It’ll just be me, myself, and I from now on.
The trees are a blur as I dash past them. I spread my arms and laugh while trying to catch snowflakes on my tongue. I haven’t felt this alive since I first started the two-year training program to pull the sleigh when I was six years old.
The snow is falling so heavily I can barely see past the end of my nose. It’s the kind of weather that smug little bastard with the glowing red nose always went on and on about. The little primo Donner was always looking for a way to show just how special and amazing he was.
And he wondered why people never invited him to play cards with them.
But he’s not here, so the snow is perfect. In addition to feeling so amazing, it provides cover. If there are any other creatures on this planet, it will make it very easy to stay out of sight. My dream is to spend the rest of my days bunkered down in a cabin by a stream, catching and growing my own food, and seeing nobody else.
After forty years of visiting millions of houses on Christmas Eve every year, and the rest of my time around a bunch of over-cheery elves hopped up on highly caffeinated pumpkin spice coffee, all I want is to be left alone.
Ebenezer had it right.
Bah humbug.
I turn up the steep incline, desperate with the need to reach the top and see the world around me. The slippery terrain nearly makes me decide to shift, but I hold off and slow to a walk instead. I’m on my own clock from now on. There’s no need to rush, no deadlines or quotas to meet.
I’m all alone and wouldn’t change it for the world.
Ahead of me, the trees clear, and a small, rundown cabin appears, ruining my moment. The last thing I want is company, but there are no signs of life. No smoke rises from the chimney. No flickering nor steady lights shine inside the building. As I creep closer, I see the front door wide open.
He didn’t leave me with this dive, did he?
Sure, it’s better than working for the man for one more second, but even I have my limits.
If the place wasn’t so tiny, I would have run past and never gave it another thought. The front door probably never stays closed.
I can fix it.
I’m already adjusting my expectations. It’ll be perfect; small, remote, and without all the bells and whistles that lead to a lifetime of constant maintenance.
Silent as any of the Santas themselves, I climb the one step that leads to the tiny porch. Without any lights in the small cabin, I can’t see more than a foot inside the door. I bump the door when I creep through the opening.
After all, I still don’t know if this is really my place or not. I count to ten before moving again to verify nobody heard.
Standing firmly in the middle of the cabin, my eyes adjust to the darkness.
There is no furniture besides an old, ratty couch and a simple coffee table. No wall hangings. No dirty dishes in the sink. The place is entirely abandoned.
There are a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, underwear, and socks on the couch. A pair of tennis shoes sit on the floor in front of them. There’s also a nightshirt to wear while sleeping. I quickly dress in the underwear and nightshirt before inspecting the rest of the cabin.
The main entry space has a small living room with a fireplace and a kitchen with a simple stove and fridge. No wall divides the two rooms.
The fridge is empty, but it does light up when opened.
A quick check of the two smaller rooms tells me the cabin has one bathroom and one bedroom with a small bed. My old boss even left me pillows, sheets, and blankets. He never could resist the chance to give someone a gift.
My good fortune nearly makes me want to frolic before remembering I don’t need to frolic anymore. I can just smile, scratch my stomach, and nod my head to show my contentment.
If I play my cards right, I might never need to see anyone else ever again, and I definitely won’t need to give the greedy bastards around the universe any more presents.
I start a fire in the fireplace. The room quickly warms. No more nightshirts for me. I strip down to my boxers, and in a final act of rebellion, remove those too.
I’m a raw, wild, solitary beast of nature from now on. I’ll even allow myself to shift again because there’s no need to deny that portion of my being.
This new life will do just fine.
Outside, I hear a rumbling noise off in the distance. From my research, I know it’s one of the humans’ petroleum-powered cars.
Is someone coming to reclaim my cabin?
Over my dead body.
Holly
“Don’t you just love Christmas?” I ask Wayne when the bell over the back door of the shop announces he’s returned from taking out the trash.
When he doesn’t answer immediately, I continue. “It’s just the best, isn’t it? All the cheer and goodwill. It’s amazing watching everyone being nice to each other and—
”
Two men with guns push Wayne behind the counter with me. One with a green ski mask points his gun at me. The one with the red ski mask points his at Wayne.
I know I’m in shock when I think at least they are coordinated for the holiday.
“No funny stuff,” the one with the green ski mask says. His voice is gruff like its owner has smoked for decades. “Open the register. Give us all the money, and we’ll let you get back to your pathetic adoration of this corporate monstrosity of a holiday.”
I don’t move right away, but Wayne takes charge of the situation.
I hate how my body is frozen with fear even more than I hate the fear.
Wayne pulls two handfuls of money from the drawer. “Where should I put it?”
Green-mask shoves his gun into his back pocket and holds out a pillowcase with a picture of SpongeBob SquarePants on it.
My niece has one just like it. The poor guy must have a family. He’s probably struggling to make ends meet. He’ll probably even use the money to buy presents for his wife and kids so they can have a merry Christmas.
“I’m sorry you have to do this,” I say. “I hope you and your family have a wonderful Christmas with the money.”
“The fuck you talking about?” he snaps at me.
“This chick’s crazy, man,” his sidekick says.
“Right? Listen, lady. Love isn’t real. Neither is Christmas. Hallmark has trademarks on all that shit.”
I cock my head to the side. “Is that why you’re robbing a Hallmark? Civil disobedience?”
“I’m just trying to get some money for rent and beer so I can get through another month. Enough with the yapping. Give me the rest of the money.”
While Wayne grabs more bills, I say, “It’s really sad you feel that way. About love and Christmas, I mean. Sure, most people go overboard, but the sentiment is just so pure. Who doesn’t want to love others and be loved back?”
“Whatever, lady. I don’t see no ring on your finger. Who are you rushing home to after work tonight?”
His words hurt as much as any bullet could. He must see it on my face.
I don’t even have a boyfriend anymore. I broke up with Dylan weeks ago. He hadn’t exactly been excited about that, but I figure he’ll forget about me as soon as he finds someone else to be a jerk to.
“That’s what I thought. You see that, Red? This lady’s trying to convince us of the power of love, but she’s going back to an empty home, making herself some microwave dinners, and…what’ll it be? Trashy romance novels or movies? I’ll say you look like a movie girl.”
“Novels.” The word is barely a whisper.
Both men laugh as Wayne puts the last of the money into the pillowcase and closes the register.
“It doesn’t matter either way,” Green-mask says. “Movies. Books. Love. Christmas. It’s all fake.”
His partner tugs his sleeve. “Come on. We’ve got to split before someone calls the cops.”
They both sprint toward the back of the store.
I don’t start breathing again until the bell above the door announces they’ve left.
I gasp for breath. “Those assholes!”
“It’s okay,” Wayne says, wrapping me in a hug. “They’re gone. We’re safe again.”
But it isn’t the danger that has me shaken.
“How dare he say love isn’t real. And Christmas!” My tirade steadily gains steam. “And my novels are as real as anything happening in his pathetic life. Men and women falling in love in a book is as true and real of an emotion as exists in this world of ours. It’s not like I read those crazy books with orcs and aliens in them!”
Edith, the owner of the shop, made us shut down the shop after the break-in. The sweet old lady promised to pay us for a full day of work on top of it all.
Given the choice, I would have preferred to work the full shift and not get robbed, but eating Chinese food on my couch while wearing my pajamas and re-reading my favorite Christmas romances is not the worst way to spend the day.
I’m so in the zone of holiday bliss as the hours pass I almost don’t hear the phone when it rings. I spill a little bit of sauce on my red tank top as I answer the phone. “Hello, Joy.”
“I heard what happened at the shop, sis! Are you and Wayne okay?”
“Perfectly fine. It was quite a scare, but nothing a night on the couch won’t cure.”
“Oh.”
She doesn’t expand on her thought, so once I bookmark the page, I ask, “What’s that mean?”
“No. Don’t even think about it. You’re right. You deserve the night off.”
I clearly missed some appointment. I put her on speaker and open my calendar app.
Mom and Dad - 37th Anniversary
“How in the world did I forget? I’m going to hell for being such a rotten daughter.”
“Of course you aren’t. After the day you had, it’s completely understandable. They understand. They just wanted me to check on you since we hadn’t heard from you after Edith called Mom to tell her what happened.”
Edith and Mom had gone to school together ever since Mom moved to Applemore in second grade until they graduated high school.
“Knock it off, Joy,” I say. “You just want to get all the credit for being the only child to show up.”
I smile at my silly accusation as I walk into my bedroom to get dressed. The two of us have argued about who is Mom and Dad’s favorite since before we started grade school.
I can hear the smile in Joy’s voice when she answers. “And you just want the attention for showing up after your traumatic day. Hurry up if you’re coming. You don’t want to miss out on the garlic breadsticks.”
I hang up the phone and toss my pajamas onto my unmade bed. My cranberry red dress that goes so well with my black hair is still in the bag from the laundromat. It’s probably the only item of clothing I owned that isn’t wrinkled right now. I scrunch up my nose in annoyance at all the dirty clothes that line my bedroom floor.
I don’t bother making sure my bra and panties match, because it’s not like I’m going to meet dating material at a party full of relatives. Besides, as much as I enjoy reading about Christmas romances, it will never happen in my life.
I grab my comfy flats but at the last second toss them into the corner of my room. No one will see my underwear, but they will see my calves. I put on the one pair of black high-heeled shoes that I own.
I have thirty years of holidays without a man in my life as proof. Sure, the first fifteen or so I probably shouldn’t count, but even just the last fifteen years with no boyfriend over the holidays is a dry spell that can’t be ignored.
I’m just not the kind of woman men fall for. Maybe it’s that I have more curves than the models in the magazines. Or maybe that I spend more time in the library than out at the bars. Or maybe it’s because I refuse to leave Applemore, Colorado because I worry about leaving my parents as they get older.
Whatever the case, I have a job I enjoy, a happy life, and a loving family…just not a man to keep me warm at night.
I sigh and slide the dress on.
It takes a few minutes to find my keys. Somehow, they ended up underneath the bag the Chinese food came in.
As I walk through the back yard to my garage that opens into the alley, a general sense of frustration and blahs hits me like a brick. By the time I’m opening the garage door, I’m flat out pissed.
What the hell? Maybe I should stay home.
I hear growling in the nearby bushes. I turn and hiss at it like an old, crabby cat.
A mass of fur erupts from the bush, jumps the neighbors’ privacy fence and disappears in their backyard.
It was too big to be a cat and too wild to be a dog. Maybe some kind of rabid raccoon? I shiver at the thought, but with each passing second, my foul mood improves.
By the time I start my car, I’m ready to whistle along with the Christmas song on the radio.
Sometime between leaving work and now, t
he snow started falling. There are two inches on the ground, and the sky shows no sign of it slowing.
I drive carefully through the streets of the small town. Once I pass the city limits, I start winding my way around the base of Mount Darling, glad my parents decided to have their anniversary party at the community center rather than up in the lodge this year. There’s no way I would have risked the dangerous windy roads.
The Christmas songs give way to pop music at the change of the hour. I reach for the dial to find more holiday tunes. In the second I’m distracted, the car jerks to a stop and throws me against the seat belt that locks against my chest, preventing me from flying out the front window.
Thank God the snow had prevented me from driving very fast.
Once I realize I haven’t been damaged, I turn my attention back to the road and see the antlers of a huge deer for a split second before they are gone.
I quickly scan the mirrors, but the snow obscures the view.
Without giving consideration to the cute black heels I’m wearing, I jump out into the snow. When I grab my purse and hurry back to where the deer should be, I don’t find any animal.
On the side of the road, not moving, lies one of the largest men I’ve ever seen. His long wild hair covers his face. His chest is massive with not an ounce of fat to be seen. Walking about in this weather without a shirt is bad enough, but he’s naked from the waist down, too.
I blush profusely while gawking at his massive—
He groans and pushes himself up to his feet. “Come back to finish your hit and run?”
Rein’ok