12 Deaths of Christmas

by Paul Sating

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Dedication

  “Rudolph”

  "Satan Claws"

  "Walking In A Winter Harvestland"

  “The Snowman”

  “I’m Dreaming of a Whiteout”

  “Hung by the Fire”

  “I Saw Mommy Killing Santa Claus”

  “Roasting On An Open Fire”

  “Slayride”

  “The Most Terrifying Time of the Year”

  "Dear Savior Born"

  “The Three Wive’s Men”

  Links

  Reviews

  Also By Paul Sating

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Contact

  Chasing the Demon

  12 Deaths of Christmas

  Paul Sating

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any situations or similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Copyright © 2018 Paul Sating

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7322617-1-6

  Cover Art By: Kessi Riliniki

  To Nikki & Alex, thank you for teaching me what unconditional love means.

  Rudolph

  “Oh, come on Rudy,” Jennica stomped her foot. “It’ll be fun.”

  She gripped his hand and tugged him down Fifth Avenue. He was determined to maintain his current plodding. The snow, ever-relentless, pelted his face. Rudolph tucked his chin as far into his jacket as he could, but it didn’t help. Icy chunks assaulted every part of his exposed and blotchy skin.

  Jennica huffed. “If you’re going to pout can you at least hold the umbrella so I’m not frozen by the time we get there?”

  ‘There’ was an upscale clothing store Jennica wanted to check out. Rudolph hated the idea, but Jennica insisted. That was easy for her, she wasn’t the one funding this excursion. Insistence was simple when it wasn’t you who was cracking open your wallet to buy overpriced shit you didn’t need. He’d heard about the store from some friends who served on the Board of Directors with him. Rumor had it that it was expensive and weird, a better fit for Portland than New York City. Rudolph let her know as much, but it was Christmas and he still hadn’t bought her any gifts. In fact, he hadn’t even thought about what he could get her and there were only two shopping days left. This excursion might satiate her so she wouldn’t throw some damn tantrum. Again.

  Work was hectic and he was behind on a couple of projects, the type he didn’t want to be behind on. Projects that paid enough to afford a wife and girlfriend, he reminded himself. Shopping for exorbitant gifts wasn’t a priority when a shit load of money was on the line.

  “Fine,” he huffed. “Let’s go.”

  Jennica bounced on the balls of her feet, clapping. “Yay! Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, faking enthusiasm.

  Jennica was decent enough as a girlfriend—fifteen years his younger and a spitfire in bed, doing all those things his wife refused to do. But she could also be juvenile at the best of times and idiotic at others. Jennica was a test of his temperament and a fulfillment of his fantasies all wrapped in one incredible body. But that was part of the balance, the price he paid for world-class blow jobs on weekend trips and the occasional midweek extended lunch. The types of blow jobs that made Rudolph sometimes wish he’d married Jennica instead of Rhonda. At least until she opened her mouth to do anything but suck his cock.

  Jennica tugged his hand, urging him to walk faster. “You’re so slow!”

  “That’s because I don’t want to bust my ass on icy sidewalks.”

  “You wouldn’t have to worry about tripping if you weren’t drunk again,” Jennica reasoned.

  Fuck her. He was a grown ass man and had every right to drink when he wanted to. She wasn’t going to start complaining like Rhonda did. Rhonda bitched about everything and he didn’t need Jennica following that lead. It was the holidays, the time for joy and cheer, and a little booze in the middle of the day never hurt. Hell, it was expected.

  Jennica danced on her feet, pulling on his sleeve. How funny would it be to see her fall on her ass?

  “We’re so close.” Jennica skipped around slower commuters, tourists, and the random homeless person.

  The store’s flamboyant amethyst-colored awning jutted out over the sidewalk. Two attendants manned the front door, decked out in immaculate red uniforms, gold trim everywhere there was a seam, like the uniforms were trying too hard to be tasteful. Both young men were handsome with almost identical square chins and perfect complexions. Jennica stared. She was always transfixed by finery and these men were objectively fine, even to straight men like Rudolph. The doormen examined Jennica and Rudolph in turn. Rudolph stood a little straighter. Who were they? He made more money in a day than they made in a month. Jennica tugged him as one of the petty assholes held the door open.

  “Welcome to The Repertory,” his plastic smile looked eternally etched on his face.

  “Thank you,” Jennica beamed.

  The Repertory was renowned for elegance most people couldn’t afford. Before the Internet, the store served as a bastion of snobbery and pretentiousness, even refusing certain types of people from shopping. That selectivity only enhanced its attractiveness to those who could. Even with his relative wealth, Rudolph had no need to spend money on things that didn’t earn money back. His wife, Rhonda, did that plenty for the both of them. This assault on decency did little to appeal to him.

  The same couldn’t be said of Jennica. She pirouetted, taking everything in with a look of wonderment on her face.

  Ambient music played at a low level from speakers hidden somewhere amongst the rows of hanging clothes. Walnut cabinets set three deep on each side of the main aisle displayed expensive suits and dresses. The cabinets ran the full length of the store, terminating in high walls filled with the best of the best. Men’s clothing to the left, women’s to the right. Hats, gloves, dresses, and suits. Shoes so fine they should never actually touch a human foot. Even the strategically placed mannequins donned expensive suits and dresses.

  In contrast to the lavish merchandise, the air was stale, almost dusty. Rudolph grimaced, thinking how he’d probably hack up crap for days after this. Everything served as a sign to remind him why he had never shopped here before.

  It wasn’t any wonder why the store was empty. This was a dead retail space. A shame, really. Not a single customer, in the middle of a day at the tail-end of the holiday shopping season. The only thing that took human form here were the twenty or so mannequins atop pedestals, standing in poses of cultivation.

  “Doesn’t look like it’s too popular of a place,” he said.

  “What you mean?” Jennica looked hurt.

  Rudolph indicated the empty store. “Do you see anyone else? We’re the only ones here.”

  Understanding dawned on Jennica’s face. “Well, most people can’t shop here.”

  “You sure that’s the reason?”

  Jennica’s expression soured. “Don’t ruin this. I asked you to bring me here forever ago and I want to enjoy it.”

  She was going to keep pouting if he argued. All he had to do was wait her out. One or two things from this store and Christmas shopping would be finished. He was already thinking about the post-shopping sex; it would be phenomenal. It always was. Just like when she u
nabashedly displayed her voracious appetite during a surprise cruise he took her on a few years ago. They spent most of their time naked inside the cabin. Rhonda thought he was at a convention in Europe. It was a fair trade-off.

  An urbane accent caught his attention. “Can I help you?”

  An older man appeared from somewhere between the walnut cabinets. Rudolph hadn’t spotted him coming, or he would have found a way to avoid the man. He hated dealing with salespeople, ironic considering that he made his fortune selling things to people that they didn’t need. The man was short, maybe five-and-a-half-feet on a good day, and dressed in a Brownell Cucinelli suit that was such a dark blue it looked black. The suit outlined him perfectly, making the vendor look like he achieved a level of fitness that men his age should have failed to maintain decades ago. The few strands of white hair horseshoeing around the old man’s head were greased back. He might as well be bald. The man’s hook nose projected from his face as if it wasn’t the one he was born with but one he chose as a surgical supplement. His smile made Rudolph wish he were home with Rhonda. And her mother.

  Jennica stepped to the man, offering her hand and bubbly personality. “Hi, I’m Jennica and this,” she said turning toward Rudolph, “is my boyfriend, Rudy.” She glanced at him and plastered that fake smile he’d seen her give to thousands of people he paraded her in front of at parties. “I mean, Rudolph. He doesn’t like other people calling him Rudy.”

  The old man took her hand and wrapped it in his. His liver-spotted skin stretched over the bone; there was no form, no robustness in those skeleton claws. No matter how fit the old man was, age had beaten his efforts to hide it, at least on those grotesque hands. The old man’s eyes traveled the length of her body before falling on Rudolph. Somewhere deep in his amygdala, Rudolph’s instincts screamed for him to run. He suppressed the reaction. There wasn’t a man or mission in the world he would run from.

  Besides, he looks like he could run me down if I tried.

  “So very nice to meet you,” the old man said, bobbing Jennica’s hand up and down in a smooth rhythm. When he pulled away Jennica’s arm hung in midair as if she’d lost a lifetime lover.

  When Rudolph shook the vendor’s hand the sudden urge to walk off the edge of the world burned through him.

  “I’m Neville. Neville Saviore. So very nice to meet the two of you, and welcome to The Repertory. Is this your first visit?”

  “It is!” Jennica clapped.

  “Yes,” Rudolph nodded.

  “Very well then,” Neville smiled. “Are you looking for anything in particular or merely browsing?”

  Neville directed his question to Rudolph as if Jennica weren’t there at all.

  “She’s doing the shopping,” Rudolph answered with a nod to his girlfriend.

  “And you?”

  “I’ve got everything I need.”

  Neville raised an eyebrow. “Do you now?” The question hung in the air like a challenge. Eternity passed, life rotted and was reborn. Stars fell from the sky. Finally, Neville laughed. It was the buoyant laugh of a man half his age. “Well, friend, then you are one of the fortunate ones. All should be so lucky.”

  Luck had nothing to do with it. The rewards of life were his because he worked his ass off and then, on those days he wanted to rest, he worked twice as hard. Ball busting brought opportunities, not luck. Rudolph imagined someone with an asset like The Repertory, for real estate if nothing else, would understand that. But he wasn’t interested in having that philosophical debate with Neville. He wanted Jennica to buy her damn Christmas gifts so they could go for dinner and a few drinks and get back to the hotel room for a prurient round of fucking.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Rudolph said instead.

  Neville wrapped Jennica’s hand in his and stepped down the main aisle, deeper into the store. “Well, let me take you to women’s wear. I’m sure you’ll adore it. Rudolph,” he said over his shoulder, “if you’ll walk with us, please, I’ll show you where you can sit while your lady and I prepare to dazzle you. I’ve some fine wines and cigars I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

  Rudolph wasn’t interested in entertaining a marathon shopping session, but if The Repertory had complimentary wine, even if it was only half decent, this might turn out to be an enjoyable afternoon. Getting drunker while she shopped was a much more attractive option than walking around the city in the snowstorm.

  As they walked deeper into the store, the daylight gave way to dead overhead lights that somehow projected more gloom than brightness. The plastic mannequins formed an honor guard down the middle aisle. Their eyes seemed to track the three as they walked through the store. Neville must have spent tens of thousands to achieve such realism. Rudolph shook his head. Bad lighting. Extravagant expenditures that didn’t move merchandise. These weren’t his problems to contemplate. If Neville wanted to put himself out of business, that was his albatross. Rudolph wasn’t going to don it for the old man.

  “Rudolph,” Neville gestured, “at the end of that hallway you’ll see a set of double doors. Walk through them to our smoking room. Enjoy any of the cigars you wish to try. You’ll find the wine stock there too. I want you to enjoy your experience at The Repertory.” And without another word, Neville walked off with Jennica on his arm. She gave Rudolph a flirtatious wave over her shoulder and then skipped toward the women’s clothing area.

  No old man should move that easily, Rudolph observed as the pair moved away. He was reminded of his own aches and pains from working too many eighty-hour weeks. The shitty diet wasn’t helping either.

  The room at the end of the hall was a buffer where the world couldn’t touch him. It wasn’t large, but it was big enough to store a few hundred bottles of wine. The racks formed a U-shape around a pair of overstuffed red leather chairs seated in the middle of the Turkish rug. Rudolph stood in the center of the room and soaked in the exquisite sight. This was living. No nagging wife, no snot-nosed kids, no co-dependent girlfriend. Just a man and the wealth of options of the world.

  Rudolph spent the next 15 minutes searching Neville’s inventory before finally selecting a 2008 Palmer Red. Finding the perfect cigar to pair it with was the most satisfying decision he’d made in years. Rudolph wrapped his fingers around a Gurkha Black Dragon.

  Rudolph reclined in the chair. The leather stretched under his weight with just enough give to help his joints release. He could spend eternity here. After a few glasses of wine and the cigar, Rudolph fell asleep.

  “Rudolph.” A gentle voice floated in the ether between reality and dream. Rudolph blinked, not wanting to rejoin the world.

  “Rudolph.” This time the voice was firmer, more determined. “It’s time to wake. Come on, good man. I think you’ll enjoy what you see. I know I do.”

  Rudolph’s eyes fluttered open. Neville stood, erect, beaming a rich smile and offering an extended hand.

  “Wait until you see her. She’s exquisite.” His perfect teeth gleamed.

  How long had he been out? How much money had she spent? How much of his money? “What-what time is it?”

  Neville turned to leave the room. “Time is irrelevant. Useless,” he answered. “What is time beyond the actual moment you’re experiencing? And some experiences should last forever, should they not?”

  Rudolph had absolutely no idea what this elderly dealer was peddling, and he didn’t care to explore it. The wine and cigar made the world fuzzy and he would much rather explore the possibilities of a day-long nap. The world swayed when he stood.

  Neville was there beside him in an instant. “Steady there, good man. You’ve chosen a fine vintage but perhaps had a little too much of it. I hope the experience was enjoyable.”

  Rudolph held his head, blinking away the swirling urge to vomit. “It was fine. Thank you.”

  Neville steadied Rudolph with a beefy grip. His smooth hands hid an underlying strength Rudolph envied. Too many years of office life had made Rudolph soft, he knew that. The only reason a woman like Jennica spread
her legs for him was because of the size of his wallet, irrespective of the size of his gut.

  “Let me assist you,” Neville said. “I can hand you off to your lovely lady once you’re reunited.”

  “Thanks.” He would rather have stayed in the smoking room, alternating between sleep and imbibition in extravagance. But something told him he didn’t want to overstay his welcome or explore Neville’s tolerance for freeloading.

  They walked the length of the hallway back toward the main store area. He must’ve slept longer than he first guessed because the end of the hallway was dark. Too dark.

  “She was a fine specimen,” Neville said. “I thoroughly enjoyed experimenting with her. A true beauty.”

  “Yeah, she’s great.” The noncommittal answer was simple and easy to give. Plus, he didn’t feel like talking when the world undulated like this.

  Neville didn’t seem bothered. “It’s rare to see someone like her,” he smiled. “Especially nowadays. People abuse their bodies, wouldn’t you say? Maybe I’m too long of this world, but I don’t understand, nor do I appreciate, the idleness that seems to permeate our culture. We’ve become comfortable. Grown lazy. I imagine a man of your stature would agree?”

  Rudolph wasn’t listening. The unexpected darkness was distracting enough, but Neville’s grip and the smooth softness of his skin demanded his attention.

  “It’s dark. I must have slept longer than I thought,” Rudolph attempted to laugh at his growing unease. “Are you closed?”

  Neville kept walking, staring ahead. The darkness approached. Was he avoiding the question? His grip on Rudolph’s hand was unrelenting. How awkward would this get if I yanked away?

  “Life can be unfair, wouldn’t you say?” Neville broke the silence as they approached the open maw of the main room. “We are animals, nothing more. And our animal brains seek pleasure. That’s not our fault, of course, it’s part of the nature of our species. But it is unfair just the same.”