Black Christmas

Chapter 2

Greg's been working hard all day. December 24 is by far his busiest day of the year. With Santa basically taking the day off to get ready for his round-the-world trip at midnight, Greg being second-in-command is forced to do all the heavy lifting to prepare.

Everything is set now. The gifts are packed in Santa's sack, and at last check the reindeer were fed and ready. It's nearing 9:00 now, so Greg is ready to go talk to the big man and get the final preparations in place.

By now, he's basically forgotten about Santa's odd behavior from yesterday. Between Gordon's promises that everything is okay and his constant workload throughout the day, he hasn't had a second to worry.

9:00 hits, so he heads to Santa's office. He's never a second late for a task assigned to him by Mr. Kringle. He gets to the door and knows something's wrong before he even gets his hand on the shiny gold knob.

"What the fuck is that?" Usually, Greg avoids swearing on the job, but he can't control himself this time. An awful smell just hit his senses like a drunk driver on an innocent bicyclist. Greg's never been afraid of dirty work. Smells never bother him, which is why he's so confused as to why he can barely keep his dinner down right now.

He doesn't want to walk in the room at this point. He's never smelled this scent before, and he assumes it can only be the smell of death. He's always imagined that if someone were cut open, it would smell a lot like this inside of them.

Nevertheless, he slowly turns the knob and pushes the door open. He looks down and already sees blood seeping out around his feet. His worst guess could not have prepared him for the current site of Santa's office.

Greg's mind races as he looks at the initial picture. It's red everywhere, and he has little to no idea what to think. He looks at his feet and blinks hard. He's a sensible enough elf to know that he needs to take in this scene piece by piece.

The first thing he opens his eyes to is a brown liquid. Within are barely recognizable chunks of noodles from his most recent meal. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he just threw up all over Santa's floor, without even the awareness to realize what he was spewing.

He looks up, first at the big man's desk. Covering the glossed mahogany this time are various blood spatters and tiny pieces of organs that Greg would only recognize if he had some medical experience.

He looks at the floor on either side of the desk. On each side lies a similar site to behold: half a carcass and more of that sticky red liquid which Greg had by now gotten used to. A closer look at the head of the body reveals a long red beard, which he guesses was white at some point. It has to be Santa Claus lying in pieces in front of him.

In Santa's fireplace lies a half-charred figure which Greg walks over to in order to examine. He cringes with every step as his boots become more and more soaked with blood. The figure starts to take shape as he advances toward it, and the realization strikes him like an abusive husband. He looks into the fire place at the badly burned body that belongs to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

Taking one last scan around, Greg sees nothing new. Everything, from the beautifully upholstered furniture to the photographs on the wall, are covered with a layer of blood and gore that the horror movies Greg has seen can't even compare to.

On his knees trying to fight the tears, Greg attempts to think about the situation rationally. He finally figures out that he must start by leaving the scene and getting help. If the killer is still at the workshop, or anywhere in the North Pole for that matter, he could still be found.

He walks quickly out the door and is met immediately by Gordon on the other side. Face to face, Greg looks him in the eye and knows right away that Gordon has seen something similar to what he has just seen.

Gordon mutters one word at Greg. Painfully, he moans "Santa" before dropping to his knees.

Greg doesn't have time to utter a single phrase before he sees where the pain in his friend's voice came from. Gordon's hands fall to his sides as his intestines hit the floor in front of him.

Gordon is more than just a friend to Greg. Their entire lives have consisted of a bond that couldn't be matched. For 38 years, the pair's lives were intertwined in a way closer than brothers. Greg was there for Gordon when he lost his first job and needed a place to say. Gordon was there for Greg when he had his mental breakdown and required constant attention for several months. No matter the ups and downs of the friends' lives, one couldn't be seen without the other. Now, Greg's most important companion lies dead in front of him.

Greg sees red now. Not the same red from moments before, but something new. Inside, he hurts more than he has in his entire life. Everything is a blur as he remains in disillusionment. He can't see the workshop security approaching the scene, nor can he hear the array of questions from the shocked team.

"What happened here, sir?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Did you see who did this?"

"My God, Chief. Look at what's on the other side of this door."