Checking It Twice Melissa L. Webb Smashwords Edition Copyright 2010 Melissa L. Webb Discover other titles by Melissa L. Webb: Weaver Of Darkness Dark Flutters: Stories For A Moonless Night Strange Musings The Tingles Valentine's Candy Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share the ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. The aged man sat alone in the dark. He rubbed the hat in his hands, his fingers absently caressing the fur that edged it. The time was quickly winding down. Once again, the Season would soon be upon them. A door clicked open behind him, spilling light across the shadowed room. The old man squinted as his eyes tried to focus in the assault. A small figure hesitantly stepped into the room. Its hunched over body crept forward. “Santa?” he spoke softly. The old man turned towards the small creature standing in the sliver of light penetrating the darkness around him. “What is it, Johnar?” The creature stepped closer, a frown danced across his disfigured lips. “There’s been an accident in the workshop,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. Santa rose slowly from his chair and looked down at his old friend, a sigh escaping his lips. “How bad is it?” “It’s bad. We’ve lost almost all. We’ll never be able to pull off Christmas with what we have.” Santa grabbed his coat, grim determination on his face. “I have never lost a Christmas yet and I don’t intend to now.” He quickly walked past the small creature into the light from the hall. “I’ll just have to make more. I hope there’s enough time.” He stepped into the hall before looking back over his shoulder. “Get the Doorway ready, Johnar. I’ll head for the Norm’s world as soon as I can.” *** Taylor peered down the hall. His parent’s light was off. The soft sound of snoring could be heard even from his door. He crept out of his room and past his parent’s. His friends were waiting for him outside. It was time to have a little fun. He silently made his way into the kitchen and out to the garage. He grinned wickedly as he shut the door behind him. His parents were fools if they thought grounding him was going to stop everything. He and his friends would just have to make sure they weren’t caught in the middle of their vandalizing spree this time. They would be smarter. They would start where no one would see them. He opened the garage door and stepped into the night, his eyes scanning quickly for his friends. “Hey,” he quietly called as he looked around. “Where are you guys?” A slight rustling of a bush was the only response he received. “Come on,” he spoke as he stepped closer to the moving bush. “We don’t have time for this. We have property to destroy.” The bush stopped moving and a small figure stepped out from it. Taylor stood there in shock. The figure looked like nothing he had every seen before. He looked like a man but his body was so stooped over and gnarled he only came to his waist. His face looked like someone had smashed it in. The folds of his skin stuck to itself around lips, which were swollen and chapped as if he had spent too much time exposed to the elements. Taylor flinched slightly at the creature’s eyes. They were two normal blue eyes. They burned bright with anger as they took the boy in. He took a step back. “What are you?” The deformed creature brushed the leaves from his green-and-white jacket before turning around. “Follow me,” he called back as he headed around the side of the house. Taylor shook his head in disbelief as he watched the little man go. What was going on here? What was that thing? Curiosity won out as he stepped forward, following after the strange figure. The minute he stepped around the corner of the house, he wished he hadn’t. He must be dreaming, because the sight in front of him had no place in his reality, especially not in August. There were more of the little men all over his front yard. They stood around a very tall man. He had a beard and a red suit. Taylor let out a gasp. “Santa?” The man in red looked up and shook his head slightly before focusing once more on the ground in front of him. He wanted to turn around and head back into his house. He wanted to crawl back in bed and pretend this was all a crazy dream. But he couldn’t seem to make himself go. Instead, he walked forward, pushing through the circle of tiny men. He had to know what was on the ground. What could be so fascinating it caused Santa and his horrible creatures to stand around in his front yard staring? “No,” Taylor cried as he saw what was going on. His three friends, the ones he had planned to meet, were rolling around on the ground, their mouths silently opening and closing as they writhed in pain. Their bodies seemed to shift and contort, almost as if they were folding in on themselves. He looked at Santa in horror. “What are you doing to them?” he yelled, pure panic in his voice. The old man looked at him, a deep sadness in his eyes. “I’m doing what has always been done. They have been naughty and now they have to be punished.” “What?” he spoke, the color draining from his face. “What are you talking about?” Santa shook his head as he watched the boys on the ground who were desperately trying to scream. “I haven’t done this in a long time, but I have no choice.” He looked over at him. “There’s been an accident. I’ve lost almost all of my elves. The ones standing here are all I have left. They’re just not enough. It’ll take a hundred more to finish Christmas in time.” Taylor looked around at the gnarled little men in front of him. They stared back, pity in their eyes. Elves. These were elves? What kind of holiday was Christmas? He looked down at his friends. Their torment seemed unending. “What does this have to do with my friends?” Santa sighed. “I’m changing them. It is their punishment.” He looked over at him. “Just as it will be your punishment for not being good.” He took a step back. This was madness. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. “You don’t punish kids like this, Santa,” he told him softly. “That’s not what Christmas is.” Santa looked Taylor in the eye, a single tear running down his rosy cheek. “This is real life, my dear boy, not some bedtime story. Naughty children don’t really get lumps of coal in their stockings. They come to work for me.” ### About the author: Melissa L. Webb is a writer of dark words. She spends her days creating new nightmares in Northern California. Connect with me online: Twitter: http://twitter.com/melissalwebb My website: http://www.melissalwebb.com My blog: http://www.melissalwebb.wordpress.com