Santa Slayer's Merry Christmas

Santa came down the chimney like a greased pig though a chute. A person wouldn’t have expected it, given his supposed girth, but he was actually rather slim inside his slaying suit. Christmas was his busiest night. Children were quick to invite strangers into their homes on Christmas, as were drunken adults. While he knew it was just part of the seasonal festivities – welcome the homeless, feed the hungry, and so forth – and it was supposed to be a good thing for folks to do, it did make his own job all the more difficult. Vampires all too often took it as an invitation to have more than a turkey meal.

He knew to his marrow that this would be just the first stop of many. He would find a vampire dressed as either an elf, or himself, having a child-sized snack instead of the milk and cookies left for the imaginary real Santa. Children all too often snuck down after their parents were safe abed after an evening carefully displaying presents under the tree. They heard the noise of stealthy entry and equated that with a visit from the S-Man; himself. Parents tired from days of festivities and overeating, and a late night of wrapping and dealing with hyper-kids, slept well, dreaming of sugar plums.

Anyway, in the time it took me to write this, and for you to read it, he arrived at the foot of the chimney. He had learned a long time ago to come down the chimney facing the room and not the wall, so his face was towards the child held tight in the vampire’s embrace.

“Oh, come on man, can’t you give a bloke a break?” the vampire exclaimed, lifting his fangs from the small neck they had been wrapped around.

“Step away from the child,” Santa said. He always felt goofy saying this … so clichéd or something.

“What, shall I make your night?” the vampire sneered. “Got no life? Nowhere to go on a holiday? Gotta come and interfere with my happy meal?”

With the Vampire’s attention off her, the slight young girl began to struggle slightly. Her struggles tapered off abruptly when the vampire looked at her and muttered, “Be still now luv; can’t have my meal taking off now, can I?”

Knowing he would have to do it the hard way, Santa reached behind himself and reached into the bulging pack and pulled out his hand-held crossbow. He would have to shoot carefully to be certain to miss the girl, but he had a dead aim.

Looking at the cross-bow pointed at him, the vampire began backing up while making certain the dangling form of the girl remained between itself and the Santa.

They were both shocked motionless when a big, tortoise-shell fluffball launched itself at the vampire from behind. There hadn’t even been a yowl of warning; just attack! As the cat’s claws sank into the vampire’s neck, it released the girl and began dancing around trying to get the cat off itself.

Santa still didn’t have a clear line of fire however. The cat was now clinging to the front of the vampire with all four claws sunk deep into its chest and neck, and jaws clamped firmly around its jugular.

Unwilling to risk hitting the cat, and without a clear shot, Santa dropped his bow. Then he quickly pulled the girl away from the stomping feet of the vampire lest she be crushed. She was just starting to become aware of her surroundings as he laid her gently on the couch behind him.

He heard a sudden crashing noise behind him as the stumbling pair hit the end table where the milk and cookies had been so carefully placed out for Santa. The a further crash as the terrace door was slammed against the wall as the vampire tore out and away from now purringly victorious cat

Knowing he had scant seconds before the parents would be out to see what had caused the table to crash to the floor, Santa quickly grabbed his big red bag. He placed the doll next to the chimney, and was scratching his nose as the hoist lifted him up the chimney.

His cleverly disguised hover-craft was just disappearing into the distance when the parents, child, and purringly happy cat appeared on the terrace behind him. This was a night they would remember long after; it would always be known as the night they saw Santa.
Story Copyright Leslie Ormandy 2008. Artwork by Peter Marrone and his friend Tony.