***
Santa was on the last leg of his journey. He had one country left to deliver toys to. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the children would awaken and the true Magic of Christmas – joy and love – would be spreading all over the world. That was his gift to the masses. It was the only thing that gave him the strength to go on.
He returned to the sleigh after delivering a train set and a teddy bear, after yet more milk and cookies, when something in the back caught his attention. A couple of the packages shifted and he thought he saw claws. Frowning, he didn’t think there were any puppies being given out this year. Due to the outbreak they weren’t taking any chances by delivering anything live that could possibly carry the disease.
Leaning down into the back seat of the sleigh, he moved a couple of boxes aside, not finding anything. He was about to turn away when a female elf-zombie shot out and grabbed ahold of his arm. She hissed threateningly and climbed up onto his shoulders in the blink of an eye.
Santa swung up at the little beast, trying to knock her off. After a full minute of swinging and spinning, he got a handful of braid and yanked as hard as he could. He was horrified when he looked down to see that all he held was hair and scalp; it dripped with slimy, dark red blood and veins. Frozen for a moment in shock, he was brought back to reality as the zombie bit into his neck.
Screaming with pain and cursing the little demon, he threw himself backwards onto the roof of the house. He was big enough, and heavy enough, that the action dislodged the zombie. She went rolling and tumbled off the roof, her head hit a fence post, impaling and killing her.
For the first time Santa noticed that the reindeer were agitated. He’d been so preoccupied with what was going on at the North Pole, and his personal hang-ups, that he’d ignored the warning signs they’d been trying to give him all night.
Clutching his neck, he got up on his knees and then stood. Walking over to the reindeer, he patted them gently to calm them down.
“It’s all right now,” he said in a soothing voice. “The little biter is all gone. We’ll finish up and head home – everything is going to be okay.”
Despite his words, he wasn’t sure. Even now, just a few minutes after being bitten, he was already starting to feel weak from the loss of blood and from a fever. As he climbed back into the sleigh, he grabbed the reins and they were off again, for how long, he didn’t know.
***
Hammond and his army of three follower elves fought their way outside. They stood in the double doorway of the workshop and surveyed the carnage in front of them. Altogether they’d killed a total of thirty-five zombies. They were tired from working long, hard shifts and they wanted to lie down and sleep, but that wasn’t an option. Fear and anger were fueling their bodies with overwhelming amounts of adrenaline, which seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.
They looked at each other, smiling and grinning with a mad delight in getting revenge on these Christmas assassins. With a whoop and a holler, they charged into the fray, swinging their weapons in a craze of joy!
It took the feeding zombies awhile to realize what was happening. Hammond and his band took out twenty more zombies before their presence was noticed.
The zombies gathered in a shuffling, moaning, disgusting crowd and shambled toward their attackers, now intent on enjoying some fresh, hot meat.
“Hold rank,” Hammond barked.
The warrior elves stood in a straight line across the street with bloody weapons dripping on the snow-covered ground. Their breaths came out in thick, puffy clouds. With eyes blazing and stances set for the onslaught, they waited for Hammond’s signal.
“Forward,” Hammond yelled. “No mercy!”
Charging forward into the horde, Hammond and his band fought valiantly. Clubs met heads that gave way with moist thumps. Blood sprayed and splashed on the warriors and on their surroundings, but it didn’t slow them at all. The hungry mouths of the zombies were everywhere, gnashing, chomping, and biting. Two of the band fell to their foes, the others fought on.
Before long, all the zombies were down. Hammond looked around for his friends, to no avail. He was the only survivor, or so he thought.
As he stood bent over, breathing heavily, a door to a small cottage across the street creaked open. He spun, raising the reindeer cane high above his head, ready to be charged by yet another enemy. When he saw that it was just a young elf and his mother standing in the doorway, he laughed and lowered his weapon.
More and more families started pouring out of their homes, where they’d been hiding – female elves with their children.
Hammond fell to his knees. Their race would go on, the little ones would grow, and Christmas would continue. Laughing hysterically, letting out all of the tension and despair that had been plaguing him, he realized that Christmas was truly magical.
***
Santa wasn’t feeling too well. Every time he stopped to deliver gifts, he vomited. This didn’t worry him at first. All the milk he’d drank, and a fever, would cause vomiting, so at first he just ignored it. But as he began to get dizzier and starting throwing up blood, he knew he was done for. He had to get home, and soon.
Weaving, he made his way back to the sleigh. There was one bag of presents left. He tried to focus his eyes on the tag and figure out where it needed to go. His brain wasn’t working right and he couldn’t remember.
Finally, he forced his eyes to read the tag, it said, “HUGSFFA.” They were the gifts for the foster children.
He fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the cool metal railing of the sleigh. He couldn’t skip them. These children needed the joy and love of Christmas Magic more than anyone else. He couldn’t let them down.
He forced himself to his feet. The world spun around him and soon he was heaving and vomiting blood again. He knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t deliver the packages. He also knew he wouldn’t go home until he knew they were in the hands of someone who could deliver them.
Suddenly, a single ray of light shot through his brain. He knew whom he could trust to take the Magic of Christmas to the foster children. Dragging himself into the sleigh, he gave orders to the reindeer and off they went.
It didn’t take them long to get to the house. In fact, it took Santa longer to crawl out of the sleigh and drag the bag to the door of the house, than it did for them to get there.
Weaving drunkenly, he knocked on the door and rang the doorbell. As fast as he possibly could, he made his way back to the sleigh and was just taking off for home as Kyle Henshaw opened the door.
Kyle frowned and looked down at the dark-green velvet bag that sat at his door step. Leaning down, he read the tag. With wide eyes, he glanced up into the sky just in time to see Santa and the reindeer’s silhouette against the backdrop of the moon.
“What is it, honey?” Kyle’s wife asked with a yawn as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.
Kyle patted his wife’s hands where they were linked over his stomach. “Santa.”
He felt her jerk. “What? Are you sleepwalking?”
“No,” Kyle said, pulling away to show her the bag of packages for Hugs. “I don’t know why, but he left this here.”
She frowned and then grinned. “I guess he does know who’s naughty and nice. He must know that you had it in your heart to help those children this year.”
Kyle looked away with a crocked grin and shrugged. “I’ll have to make some calls and get people out of bed, so we can make sure these presents are under some trees before morning.”
His wife laughed. “Let’s do that!”
They made calls for the next hour, getting the addresses to all the children, and even got some volunteers to help.
The first rays of the morning sun were just peeking over the horizon as Kyle and his wife walked arm in arm to their front door. All the packages had been delivered and they were extremely tired.
Pausing, they smiled and let the first warming rays bathe their upturne
d faces.
“This is gonna be a great Christmas,” Kyle said, and kissed his wife’s forehead.
Together they went inside and enjoyed their Christmas together, knowing that they’d helped bring smiles to the faces of many children, who were at that very moment, opening their presents.
***
Santa passed out on the way back to the North Pole. Luckily the reindeer knew their way home. They were still nervous and flew faster than normal. They needed the security and safety they knew they would feel when they got into their stalls.
The smell of blood reached them, even in the air. The reindeer jerked so hard, and rocked the sleigh so violently, it woke Santa. He moaned and took the reins, guiding the reindeer down the best he could.
He passed out again, just as they halted in the bright red snow.
***
Hammond had seen the sleigh land and had come out to meet it. As he approached, he noticed how pale Santa was. Rushing to him, he shuddered as he saw the festering wound on Santa’s neck and the blood that dotted his coat.
For a moment he just stood there, not knowing what to do. He wasn’t sure if he should waste his time by having Santa dragged inside or if he should just slam something into his head now, before he turned.
The choice was taken away as a young female elf saw Santa. She screeched with joy and tugged at her mother’s skirt, yelling, announcing his return.
Soon the remaining elves were surrounding the sleigh. The adult’s eyes took in the situation and they looked to Hammond with panic and concern.
“Take the reindeer to the barn and see to them,” he instructed a small group of elves. “The rest of us will get Santa inside. Janet, why don’t you take all the little ones to your house while we get him inside?”
Janet nodded and took charge of the small children.
The remaining elves helped him get Santa inside. They removed his belt, boots, hat, and coat and put him in bed.
Hammond stayed with Santa. He could hear the nervous chatter of the other elves in the hall. There was no hope for Santa. He was going to become a zombie, too.
Hammond bowed his head to pray and jumped when the door to Santa’s room flew open and an elf, no more than five-years-old, came dashing in giggling. Her blonde hair was coming free from her long braids, looking like woven gold in the candle light.
“Santa!” she squealed, and hopped up onto the bed.
Hammond jumped up and tried to grab the child, but she was too fast.
Santa’s eyes shot open – they were cloudy. He hissed and sat up, grabbing the girl as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His teeth were merely an inch away from her tender flesh, when she spoke.
“Merry Christmas, Santa!”
Zombie Santa froze and a blinding spark of light flashed between him and the little girl.
Hammond raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare. Blinking rapidly, he waited for it to fade; it only took moments.
When he could see again, he looked at the girl and Santa. He was normal! He looked cheerful and healthy! The girl was sitting on his lap rattling off all the presents she’d gotten, like nothing at all had happened.
Speechless, Hammond turned and left the room. The Magic of Christmas had come through for them after all. Everything would be fine, and there would be more presents next year.
About the story from Rebecca Besser:
“The Magic of Chirstmas first appeared in the The Undead that Saved Christmas charity anthology in 2010. In the originally story I named one of the main characters as the man who put the collection together. It has now been changed.
Since the book was for charity, I wanted to make sure there were heartwarming elements and a happy ending. I threw in some fun elf action just for fun. If you can’t have zombie elves at Christmas, is life really worth living?
I hope you enjoyed the uplifting elements of this story, especially after the depressing ones above.
The next story is the sequel to this story, which was written for the sequel charity anthology, although it never made it into the book.”
THE POWER OF A GIFT
By Rebecca Besser
Kayla Henshaw stood in the living room, peering expectantly at the front yard through the frost-covered front window. Her father, Kyle, stood in the doorway watching her with two steaming cups of hot chocolate in his hands, admiring her innocent beauty and grinning at her excitement. Christmas was their favorite time of year, and this Christmas was going to be an extra special one.
“We still have time, Kay,” he said, walking forward and sitting the mugs on the coffee table beside a plate of festive Christmas cookies. “Santa said he would send the sleigh for us at ten o’clock – it’s barely nine. Sit down and have a snack with me while we wait for Mommy to get ready.”
With a sigh, the young girl turned and frowned. “Why can’t Santa come early?”
Kyle laughed. “I told you, sweetheart, he’s very busy.”
She strolled slowly over to the couch and plopped down beside her dad; the shimmering dark green material of her dress puffed up at the sudden movement and she smoothed it down delicately. “The kids at school didn’t believe me when I told them I was going to the North Pole,” she said, still frowning. “They said I was a baby and that Santa isn’t real.”
Taking a sip of his hot chocolate and chewing a mouthful of cookie, Kyle thought about his response before speaking. “Well, remember what I told you happened last year? That Santa had me help deliver Christmas presents to the HUGS children? Doesn’t that prove that Santa is real?”
“Yes,” she muttered, picking up a cookie and taking a bite. “But why doesn’t everyone believe, if he’s real?”
Kyle inwardly groaned, knowing it was incredibly hard to wrestle with a child’s logic and help them understand the world; he waited until he’d finished his cookie to reply.
“Some people don’t want to believe. They think not believing in magical things makes them more grown up. I think it makes them boring!” He leaned over and tickled his daughter. “You don’t want to be boring, do you?”
“No, Daddy!” she squealed.
“Besides,” he said, leaning back and smiling down at Kayla, “you get to meet the big guy in person and everyone is jealous! You’ll know the truth when you’re flying through the air on Santa’s sleigh.”
She grinned broadly and helped herself to another cookie. “Yup!”
“Okay, I think I’m ready,” Cindy huffed as she came rushing downstairs. “How do I look?” She spun and showed off her festive sweater – sporting a snowman – and her dark red, long skirt. “Do I look like I’m ready for a stroll through the North Pole?” she asked, and laughed.
Kyle grinned. “You look beautiful.” He turned to his daughter and nudged her gently with his elbow to get her attention; she was staring out the front window again. “Doesn’t Mommy look pretty?”
Kayla barely glanced at her mom and said, “You look really pretty, Mommy.”
Cindy laughed. “Thanks.” She looked at the three small suitcases sitting by the front door and frowned. “Do you think we have everything we’ll need?”
Laughing, Kyle rose from the couch, walked out into the hallway, and wrapped his arms around his wife, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. “We have everything we need. Calm down.”
She sighed, nodded, and relaxed into his embrace. “What time is it?”
Kyle glanced at his watch. “A quarter after nine. You have time to sit down with us and have a cookie before we go.”
Smiling, Cindy pulled away and walked into the living room, sitting down beside their daughter; Kyle joined them.
Together they ate, drank, talked, laughed, and waited for a magical sleigh to come and carry them away for their two-day trip to the North Pole.
Soon, before they realized how much time had passed, a jingling of sleigh bells could be heard outside. Kayla jumped up and practically flew to the front window, pressing her face to the cold glass to look u
p into the sky.
“It’s here! It’s here!” she screamed, squealing excitedly and clapping her hands. “We’re really, really going to meet Santa!”
Kyle and Cindy laughed, watching their daughter.
“Yes, the sleigh is here, so you’d better go put your boots on,” Cindy said, walking over and gently nudging Kayla from the window.
“But I wanna see who’s driving!” Kay protested.
Reluctantly her mother gave in with a sigh. “Okay, but then you need to get your boots on so we can go when it’s time.”
“Daddy, who’s that?” she asked, pressing her finger to the window; humidity gathered around the appendage, making a foggy circle. “Is he an elf?”
Kyle walked closer to the window and peered outside. “Yup, that’s an elf. Santa said in his letter he wouldn’t be able to come to get us himself, so he was sending his head elf. I can’t remember his name . . .”
“It started with an ‘h’ didn’t it?” Cindy asked. “And it reminded me of food . . . something pork.”
“Hammond,” Kayla chirped. “I ‘member now. He saved the North Pole while Santa was delivering presents – it was in the storybook that came with the letter.”
“You’re right, sweetheart,” Kyle said, smiling. “I remember the story. It was Hammond.”
They jumped as the doorbell rang, not having noticed Hammond advancing toward the house while they were discussing his name.
Kay squealed and darted for the front door. Cindy and Kyle grinned at each other and followed at a slightly more reserved pace and arrived to see Hammond through the open doorway; snowflakes danced around him and shimmered in the foyer light, making him look magical.
“Hi! I’m Kayla!” she screamed, grinning up at the elf.
He smiled down at her. “Yes, I know, and I’m here to take you to the North Pole. You wouldn’t want to meet Santa, would you?”
“Yes! Yes!” she screamed, and bounced.
Cindy laughed. “Get your boots on then, silly! We can’t go until you’re properly dressed.”
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