Posted by SK on December 25, 2003 at 15:57:25:
I just remembered that I wrote an Xmas story some years ago - it probably shows that it's a bit old, but what ther hell... here it comes ;-)
"Damn fuck!" He cursed, as he fumbled with the beard. The rubber band had got tangled up in his hair somehow. He almost snapped it. Then it was in place. He grinned at his own reflection in the mirror. "Damn cute too."
Outside, the first snow of the season was falling gently, muffling the sounds of the world. The sun had just set and all the Christmas decorations shone with a million colored lights through the snow. It was perfect. He quickly donned the warm red suit, threw the gifts in the big black sack, and hurried outside.
"Come on, Blitzen! 'Tis the season to be jolly!" He yelled as his black and chrome Yamaha 1250 roared to life. he drove a few triumphant rounds in front of the motel, before he turned down the narrow dirt road towards the freeway. "La la la la la, la la, la laaaaaa!"
"Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh, o'er the fields we go, laughing all the way!" He screamed over the din of the engine. "Bells on bob-tails ring, making spirits bright, what fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight!" He pushed the big, shiny button below the speedometer and a merry jingle blasted from the six horns he'd added to the front fork. "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!", he joined in, "Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh!"
He kept singing and blasting the horns until his throat and ears were sore. His hands were freezing like hell, and he felt like finding a nice house to visit with the magic of Christmas real soon. After another ten minutes of rather un-christmas like swearing and cursing, he finally spotted a suitable house on the other side of the road. Traffic was light, so he just rode over the midsection, the opposite two lanes and down the small road towards the house. It was one of those old farmhouses, full of light and decorations in the yard. It would do just fine.
As soon as he brought the bike to a halt, the front door flew open and an old woman leered a toothless smile at him. He threw the sack over his shoulder, took off his hat and bowed his head towards the old crone.
"Good evening, miss." He said and walked towards her. "And merry Christmas to you!"
"Merry Christmas, young man." She barked in a rusty and, he thought, rather disrespectful voice. He tried to walk in but she didn't move from the door.
"Now what are you doing here?" She asked. The smile had disappeared from her face. Instead she eyed him suspiciously.
"I have come with presents and magic and jolly!" He laughed, then added a little more sternly, "Now get out of my way, old bitch. I'm here to see the children."
"Jack!" The old gal bellowed and looked over her shoulder. He could hear many voices from within, but he couldn't really see anything but a hall with closed doors behind her. While she was still looking over her shoulder, he stepped up to her and grabbed her around the neck with his free hand. She looked back at him, rather confused.
"Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace!" He sang as he tightened the grip on her throat. She kicked a bit and grabbed at his beard, before collapsing as a sack of potatoes on the steps. He gave the old crone's skull a few good kicks with his heavy boots. Then he brushed the snow off his suit and walked inside.
He made his way towards what he correctly guessed was the main living room. The room was pleasantly decorated with small red elves, a scene with Jesus and the wise men, and lots of glitter and fake snow. In its midst was a big table, laden with nuts and Christmas candy, around which sat the rest of the happy family, all staring at the tube.
"Hello!" He yelled. They looked up at him some with surprise, some were apparently annoyed with having their viewing experience interrupted.
"'Tis the season for games and family fun!" He continued and unplugged the TV.
"Hey, put that back in!" Yelled a young man, probably around his own age. An older man, whom he guessed would be Jack, got up from the couch and walked towards him.
"Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house?" The old man demanded.
"I'm Santa, you stupid idiot." He said. "I would have thought the big white beard and the red suit would be a dead giveaway. I'm here with presents for the children."
The three kids on the couch, two small boys and a girl, smiled up at him, but 'Jack' didn't look at all pleased.
"I'll do the gift-giving around here. Now get out of my house, punk!"
"He's making a list, and checking it twice," He sang as he reached into the sack for the first gift of the evening. "Gotta find out who's naughty or nice, Santa Claus is coming to town!"
Jack raised his hands and took a step back as he saw the gun. He didn't care. It was too late for Jack.
"You haven't been a good boy, have you Jack?" He said and pulled the trigger. Jacks head exploded in a whir of white bone and red brain, decorating the TV and a spot of naked wall. The kids on the couch stared at Jack's body in awe as a red pool formed on the carpet, where his head should have been. The young woman screamed, the young man tried to calm her down. The young man looked a bit like Jack, he noticed.
"So you're the son home from the big city, with your new family, are you?" He said and crouched in front of the table, in what he hoped was a happy and engaging fashion. Of course, it might have worked better if he wasn't still waving the gun around, but he had to have something to ensure the Christmas peace. The young man nodded and sent him a nervous smile.
"You're not going to hurt us, are you?" The young woman asked through the tears.
"No, of course not. I'm good old Santa. I'm here with presents!" He grinned. The young woman was kind of cute, with her shoulder length golden hair and big blue eyes. He wanted to do her real bad, but first he had to think about the children. He opened his sack again and reached inside.
"Here is a little thing for you, kiddo." He said and handed a package to one of the small boys. "Go ahead, unwrap!"
The boy looked nervously from the present and to his mother. She nodded. Good girl, he thought. The boy unwrapped the present and found a nice yellow light-sabre. Batteries included.
"Cool!" The boy said, gave Santa a big smile, and turned the thing on. While laughing and screaming, the boy began assaulting a pillow with heavy blows. Now this was what Christmas was all about, he thought, and reached for another package.
"This one is for you, sweetheart." He said and handed a nice, big package to the little girl. her eyes shone with the joy of anticipation as she unwrapped the crackly pink paper.
"Wow! Thank you mister!" She yelled as she pulled out a Barbie doll and a package with three beautiful dresses.
"And finally one for you" He said and handed a gift to the last boy. It contained a full-body figure of Darth Vader and a plastic Tie-Fighter. The boy smiled and immediately began playing with his gifts. The two adults looked concerned.
"Don't you think we should call an ambulance?" The young man said and motioned towards Jacks dead body.
"Nah, don't worry. He'll be fine." He laughed. "By the way, my name is Peter." He said and extended his hand in greeting. "I'm not really Santa, you know, I just dress up for sake of the children."
The young man looked confused. Then he looked at his wife, as if uncertain of what to do next. She didn't offer anything but an equally confused look and a few sobs.
"Hey, it's OK, we can be friends." He said and grabbed the young man's hand and shook it firmly. "Now what was your name again?"
"Richard. Friends call me Rick." Rick said. "This is my wife Mary. You have already met Jack and Sara, I'm sure" The last sentence was uttered in a different tone of voice, a disrespectful one, he thought. It was not Christmas-like, not at all.
"They had it coming. They didn't understand the spirit of Christmas!" He snarled. "You better get in the mood, Rick, or you and your lovely wife will be checking out of the Holiday Inn yourselves!"
Rick nodded.
"Now, who are the wonderful kids?" He said in a merry voice and smiled towards the three children playing on the couch.
"Promise you won't hurt the children!" Mary cried and began sobbing again. Obviously she didn't get it at all, he thought.
"Christmas is the children's feast, Mary. Of course I won't hurt them. Now you just be a good mother and hurry out into the kitchen and finish that roast." He commanded. He had noticed a wonderful smell coming from the kitchen. Old Sara apparently had had something good cooking.
"And don't forget there are children here." He added as she hurried to the door. "So don't you try anything funny, OK?" She nodded reluctantly and disappeared into the kitchen.
"Now let's sing Rick!" He said and clapped his hands, gaining the attention of the children. "What will it be?"
"Singing is stupid!" The boy with the light-sabre said and pouted.
"Oh, you gotta love the kids, don't you?" He said and pressed the gun against Rick's soft stomach. "Now pick a song kids." He insisted.
"Yeah, come on children, it will be fun!" Rick cheered enthusiastically, yet rather nervously.
"OK, then let us sing 'Silent Night'." The girl said and smiled over the head of her doll.
"Good choice, sweet thing." He laughed and began singing. Rick sang. The children sang. It was almost like a real Christmas, he thought. Not at all like back at the asylum. They kept singing and playing for almost an hour. Then dinner was ready.
"Say grace, Lisa." He said and nodded towards the girl. He had learned the children's names during the last hour. Simon, Daniel and Lisa. They were real darlings. Lisa bowed her face and thanked the Lord for their food. He didn't really believe in God, but then again, he didn't really believe in Santa. It was all just part of Christmas, and boy, he loved Christmas.
The dinner was consumed without much drama. Apparently Rick and Mary had decided to just ride this one out, he thought. The kids found it rather strange that grandma and grandpa weren't joining them for dinner, but they accepted Rick's explanation, even in spite of what had happened in the living room. It was wrong to lie to children, he thought, but they would learn the truth soon enough. For now it was better to let peace descend on the happy home.
"Why don't you kids run out and play in the snow." He said as they were done eating. "I'll have more presents for you later, if you're good." The children cheered and ran into the hall. He could hear them struggle with their heavy winter clothes as he stared silently at Rick and Mary.
"Rick, take the plates and go into the kitchen!" He commanded. Mary looked at him and shook her head in silent fear. Rick took Mary's hand. "I said, go into the kitchen, damn it!" He repeated. he hated repeating himself and he was getting angry. "This is Christmas, and we're all entitled to some fun, don't you think? Besides, those dishes aren't going to clean themselves, are they?"
Rick kissed Mary on the cheek, before scurrying into the kitchen, the way pointed out to him by the gun. Mary looked up nervously, tears brimming in her eyes.
"You know, I've been away for quite a while." He said and walked towards her. her eyes fixed on the gun in his hands, but he didn't mind, as long as she was paying attention. "They put me in a rubber cell, because I pretended it was Christmas all the time. They didn't want to play with me, they just locked me up."
"That's sad." Mary ventured nervously. She was faking interest, he thought. It was obvious to him that she was just stalling, but tonight he was in no hurry.
"Daddy killed himself on Christmas. He just blew his head off with a shotgun." He continued and sat down on the table next to Mary. She looked up into his eyes. She looked sad, moved. He had to work while the iron was still warm. "But not before he killed mother with the carving knife. Poor thing." Then he began crying.
"I'm sorry." Mary said and put her arms around him. It felt good, he thought, very good. He put his arms around her too, both for comfort of her touch, but mainly so she couldn't reach the gun. He rested his head against her shoulder and sobbed like a child.
"You poor, poor man. That is so sad." She said and stroked his hair gently "It must have been terrible. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better."
"Oh Mary, there is!" He grinned and pushed his head back so he could look into her pretty blue eyes. She looked scared and confused, not at all like she wanted to help. He also noticed that she looked past him, quickly, as if trying to glimpse something behind him. He listened. Then he turned around.
Rick was standing about ten feet away, a big knife raised above his head. Rick seemed to consider his options for a few seconds. Then he let the knife drop to the floor.
"That was fucking pathetic, Rick!" He laughed. "Can't you do better than that?"
"Please, I beg you not to hurt him!" Mary cried and tried to grab the gun. He pushed her away and kept the gun aimed at Rick.
"OK, this is Christmas, Rick, and everybody deserves a second chance. Fuck with me again, and you die. It that absolutely crystal clear?" He said. Rick nodded like a sheep and cowered back into the kitchen.
"Now where were we?" He grinned and looked back at Mary. "Oh yea, Christmas, a scared child and you wanting to help me. You can really help me a lot Mary, I know you can. You got the right stuff, baby." He said and cupped her right breast with his free hand. It felt good, warm and soft through her dress.
"It's OK." She said "I can take it. I just want you to think if this is what you really want. What you really need."
"I've spent ten years in an asylum, Mary. Trust me, this is exactly what I want. And need." He laughed and pulled a strap down over her shoulder. "The other kids have something to play with. Now it's my turn to have a little fun." He pulled down the other strap and kissed her naked shoulders.
"Why are you doing this?" She asked. "You could just have asked to join us. We wouldn't have let you starve on a night like this."
"It's not like I'm starving, baby, all those gifts are bought and paid for." He said and pulled her dress down, exposing a cute white bra. "Besides, would you really have invited me in? A perfect stranger? I think not. Any old how, it's much more fun this way, don't you think?"
"But you're not a bad person. I don't think you really want to kill and hurt people, do you?" She said. She reached back and unclipped the bra. She even gave him a little smile as it fell into her lap.
"What I like is a nice, quiet Christmas Eve. Happy children. A decent meal. Some nice, warm skin." He said and took her right breast in his left hand. It was a bit too soft to his taste, but hey, considering the fact that she'd given birth to three kids, it wasn't bad at all. Besides, he wasn't really in a position to be picky right now. "The hurting and killing is just a way of getting what I want."
"You can get what you want without hurting people. You just have to be nice, that's all." She said and pushed the dress down to her waist. She squirmed a bit in the seat and began massaging her own breasts. "You're a handsome man. You should have no problem with the women."
"How the fuck do you know I'm handsome. You can't even see my face!" He laughed and pulled at his fake beard. She was trying to charm him and he liked it. She just had to do a little better, if she wanted him to believe it.
"I can sense it. It's in your eyes, in the way you look at me." She said and pushed a hand down the front of her dress, while grabbing hold of his belt with the other. "I want you."
He smiled as he saw that look in her eyes. Not the look she was trying so desperately to sell him, but the look he had seen less than ten minutes ago. He played along for now. He spread his legs towards her and let her work on his buckle. He looked down at the table and found Daniel's light-sabre. He could see Rick's shadow on the wall behind Mary. He waited until he saw him raise the knife. Then he put both feet on Mary's chest and pushed.
Mary flew back against the wall, her head hitting it with a loud thud. He used the momentum to drive a backward somersault, completing it just in time to see Rick drive the knife into the table where he had been a split second ago. He turned on the light-sabre and pressed it against Rick's neck.
"The Force is strong in you, young Skywalker. But you're not a Jedi yet!" He laughed and waved the gun at Rick. "I said I'd kill you if you tried that stunt again, didn't I?"
"Yes, but..." Rick began. Then a bullet hit his temple and flew through his skull. His body collapsed across the table.
"Apology accepted, Captain Needa!" He laughed and kicked Rick's lifeless body to the floor.
"Oh my God!" Mary cried as she saw Rick dead.
"Peter will do fine, Mary!" He laughed and looked down at Mary. She was laying sprawled on the floor, looking rather funny with her dress half way off. "Just call me Peter. By the way, I'm glad to see you're not seriously hurt. We're not done yet, you and I."
"You bastard! You sick bastard!" She screamed while a flood of tears gushed from her eyes. She had been relatively calm all night, but now she had obviously snapped.
"I'm sure he was the love of your life. I'm sure you loved him very much, Mary, but he's gone now. Deal with it." He said and pulled her to her feet. She kept staring down at Rick while she cried.
"That was his own fucking fault, the dick head. I told him not to mess around, didn't I?. Didn't I!?!" He said and slapped Mary across the face. She was getting hysterical, he thought, she would be no use to him like that.
"No!" She sobbed at nothing in particular.
"Yes I did. I said 'fuck with me again and you die'. Those were my exact words. He fucked with me, I killed him. It was his own fucking fault. Apparently he had a death wish, the stupid prick. Now stop that sobbing, Mary, it doesn't become you." He said and slapped her again. She seemed to calm down a bit.
"He didn't deserve to die. He was such a good man." She said in a weak voice.
"Yes he did deserve to die! He tried to fucking kill me. I even warned him about it." He continued. She looked at him. She was getting the message, it seemed. The sadness in her eyes was replaced by pure and utter panic.
"Oh my God, you're going to kill us all, aren't you!" She screamed. He slapped her again. Her cheeks were becoming all red from the beatings. It actually made her look rather healthy.
"I said I wouldn't hurt the children, but yes, you are going to die tonight Mary!" He laughed and threw her down on the table. She tried to push herself up, but her elbows slipped in Rick's blood.
"No, please no!" She screamed as he pressed the gun against her stomach.
"Be still Mary." He hissed, reached up under her dress with his left hand and tore off her panties. "Now spread 'em, bitch. Remember how much you wanted me? Looks like you're in luck, baby."
She offered little resistance as he parted her legs and pulled her towards him. He pulled down his pants and buried his cock in her warm cunt. It felt good. She was not as narrow as the last girl he'd fucked, but that was just nice. He didn't want her to bleed, like that other girl had done.
"The last girl I killed was just eighteen." He mused as he thrust his hard member into the soft, yielding flesh of Mary's abdomen. "She had no children and no husband. She never got the chance. How old are you Mary?"
"Twenty-eight!" She sobbed through tight lips.
"Twenty-eight? I didn't think you were more then twenty-five. Anyway, you had many good years with your husband and your kids. Compared to that poor girl, you are really lucky. Then again, having felt happiness just makes it so much harder to let go, doesn't it?" He laughed and pressed the gun against the bone between her breasts. She didn't reply. She just screamed and collapsed as she gave way to another wave of tears.
"I know about letting go, Mary. My father didn't kill himself. I killed him. I killed my mother. I killed my two sisters. I also fucked my sisters before they died, just like I'm fucking you now, Mary. I wanted to feel their small breasts and their fresh pussy." He explained. He remembered it so vividly, that Christmas. He couldn't really figure out if it had been the worst or the best Christmas in his life. It certainly had been his last, not counting tonight. "I also forced my father to fuck them, and my mother, before I shot him. He never fucked her before, except for the times he made us. Can you fucking believe it? I had to put a gun to his face to make him fuck his own wife. He was sick. He didn't care for his wife, but he had no problem using me, the fucking pervert. He deserved to die. My mother and my sisters deserved to die for protecting him."
"I'm sorry, I truly am!" She sobbed.
"Don't lie to me, you stupid bitch! You are all the same. You don't really give a fuck. All I wanted to do was spend a Christmas without fear. I could only do that if they died. And then what happens? They put me away... as if I was the sick one!"
"Let me help you, please. I know I tried to trick you earlier, and I'm sorry. Let me help you this time. I know people who will listen to you, people who will understand." She said, struggling hard to make her voice firm. He liked that, the apparent braveness. It would make it even better when she broke.
"More lies. I'll shut you up, Mary. Maybe if you stop lying, you'll go to heaven!" He laughed and took a hand full of paper napkins. He rolled them into a ball and shoved them into her mouth. That seemed to do it, he noticed with a smile. She became hysterical again, thrashing on the table like fish on dry land. He pushed her back on the table and climbed onto her, hitting her with the gun to calm her down until he was again inside her.
"Time to die, Mary!" He laughed, threw the gun on the floor and put his hands around her neck. He loved the way her eyes grew wide with fear as he tightened his grip. Her hands clawed at his arms, but they were too short to reach his face, and the coat was thick and durable. He concentrated on the scared look on her face and the divine, sensual squirming of her body.
He kept fucking her as her face grew red, then purple. He loved the helpless way her mouth opened and closed, the way the strength slowly disappeared from her struggling, and the ever increasing fear on her face, in her eyes. She was helpless. She suffered. Just like he always had. God, it felt so much better being the one hurting people, than it did being the one getting hurt. Just as the last Christmas he had spent outside the asylum, this night was his and his alone.
"It's a bitch, isn't it Mary? All the things you want to do? All your dreams and ambitions, wasted? But just hang in there, Mary, it's over soon." He whispered in her ears as her struggling ceased. Her back arched from the table, her face was pulled back, purple, almost black. The veins and arteries in her neck stood out like rubber tubes.
"Before you die, I want you to know how much I've enjoyed fucking you, Mary!" He moaned and shot his cum inside her. Their bodies shuddered, spasmed, hers in final agony, his in orgasmic joy. Then they both were still. He lay on top of her, panting, sweating like a pit in the thick suit. When he had gathered the strength, he rolled off Mary's limp body.
Just to make sure he wouldn't get any unpleasant surprises, he took the knife that Rick had kindly provided, and buried it between Mary's dead breasts. Then he set about tiding the place up a bit. Mary, Jack and Rick had left such a mess.
"OK boys and girl!" He yelled as he stood in the front door. He could hear the kids playing some way off, so he yelled again, louder. A few minutes later, he could see them coming towards him through the snow.
"Can we have the rest of our presents now?" Lisa called with joyous anticipation in her voice. His heart almost melted.
"Of course you can! They are in the living room." He said and helped them out of their dirty wet clothes. "Your parents and grandparents have gone to bed. They say we can stay up all night and play."
"Yeaaaa!" The three kids screamed and hurried into the living room, where they immediately set about unwrapping the rest of the packages. He went into the kitchen and fixed a pot of hot chocolate.
When he returned, the children were all over the living room, playing with their new toys. He poured them some chocolate and sat down. For hours he watched them play, only interrupted by the occasional song and cup of chocolate. He wished he could be them, just playing without fear. It was to late for him. He could never be a child again.
Suddenly the phone rang.
"Can I answer?" Lisa asked and hurried towards the phone. What could he say? If it was the police, they already knew he was here. If it was anybody else, they'd probably just get worried if nobody answered. He nodded and the little girl picked up the phone. Lisa listened for a while, nodding and uttering sounds of agreement.
"He's here now" she said at last. "But don't worry, he's just as sweet as the real Santa. This is the best Christmas I've ever had."
He grabbed the phone and listened.
"Don't go anywhere, do you hear me. Stay put, and don't provoke him. We'll send two cars out there immediately. Don't let him know we called. Now be a good girl and put the receiver back down." A strange voice said. He did as commanded.
"I'll have to go now kids." He said and gave them each a hug.
"Thank you for the presents." They yelled as he hurried towards the door.
"And thank you for a wonderful evening, kids. I hope you'll learn to live with your loss, and maybe some day... forgive me." Then he hurried out to his bike, jumped into the seat and rode out into the darkness of Christmas night.
-SK