He Sees You When You're Sleeping

5th December- Santa's Helper

Buddy couldn't remember his old name. He couldn't remember his old life, either. He remembered snippets of it- his sister, Rae, and a loving father. But his name was long forgotten. The only thing he properly remembered about his childhood was that night, 74 years ago.
      It had been a normal night, apart from being Christmas Eve. He remembered his father tucking him into bed after reading him a bedtime story. There was something about not trying to stay awake to see Santa. But Buddy- or whatever his old name had been- was determined. This would be the night when he'd finally see Father Christmas with his very own eyes.
      Sometime after midnight. Buddy was still awake, but barely. His eyelids drooped but he pinched himself constantly to stop himself from falling asleep. He'd been about to drift off, when he heard a noise coming from downstairs. A thump, and the jingle of bells. This was it! His chance to see Santa!
      He'd tumbled downstairs, almost tripping over his heels in excitement, squealing internally with childlike glee. Once he was on the bottom floor, he realised he had to be a little quieter. He wanted to see Santa before Santa got a chance to see him. He tiptoed past the kitchen and the dining room, before reaching the little area surrounding the chimney. Sure enough, someone was there. But he didn't look at all like how he expected Santa Claus to look.
      He had donned similar clothes- that was for sure. A red cloak with white fur lining. But something was off. Buddy didn't remember hearing Santa described with a hunched back or cloven hooves. He swore he could see two horns protruding from his head. The sound of chains clanked quietly with every movement, resembling the ringing of bells. He was putting something in his sister's stocking.
     "Santa...?" Buddy asked cautiously. It wasn't Santa. Slowly, it turned around, craning its misshapen head to look at the child. A pasty white face and a set of needle-like teeth moved into view. Buddy would've screamed, but a hand with long fingernails covered his mouth before he had the chance. The next thing he knew, he was in a large brown sack with other small children and on the way to the... well he assumed he'd be going to the North Pole. That was the last time he'd ever see his family again.

      Decades passed, and years of enslavement and constant toy-making had worn Buddy down. His green and yellow clothes grew ragged and old, and his fingers deformed and broken. Buddy was old now- in his eighties or nineties. Time was hard to keep track of when the only clocks you had were toys. Recently, Santa had called out all the names of all the elves whose usefulness had expired; Buddy's name was on that list. Now, his old bones shook with fear for what was to come. He'd heard many tales about what happened to the old elves. They said that one day, Santa led them away and they were never seen again. Nobody knew what happened in those days in between, but a sinking feeling in Buddy's gut told him he was about to find out.
      Buddy joined the queue of elves which waited for Santa Claus to get ready and leave. He could see the new arrivals being "formed". Santa was standing over them, asking the same question, again and again,
     "Who are you?"
     "I'm Wesley, sir." The small child whom he was towering over answered.
     "Wrong!" Santa Claus screeched, and dug his fingernails into the poor child's skin. Wesley cried out in pain and sank to his knees, tears of pain treating down his face. "I ask you again, who are you?"
     "N-nobody, sir."
     "Good. And you?" He pointed to a little girl.
     "I'm nobody."
      Buddy felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around. Claus was glaring down at him, his features twisted into a grotesque snarl.
     "What are you looking at, peasant?"
     "Nothing, Master." Buddy stuttered.
     "Your empty lies mean nothing to me. Must I remind you of who you are?"
     "I am nobody." He hung his head; a phrase he'd come to say more than the hours he'd been here. The ring of bells calling the expired elves to the exit dismissed him. As the elves hobbled through the door, Buddy wasn't sure what was worse; spending another day in here, or a single night out there.
     "Yes. But no worries. We're going soon. Then you will get all the justice you deserve."
      A long line of elves trailed behind Father. That's what the elves had come to know him as in their long time in the factories. He led them through the snow and ice, never once stopping to let them rest. Some of the elves died along the way. But they didn't have time to stop and mourn, and kept going.
      After what seemed like decades, they finally stopped. An elf collapsed in the snow, her creaky joints weaker than ever. Buddy heard a whip crack and immediately the elf leapt to her feet. Father was standing over her, a foul expression on his face. He simply shook his head and cracked his whip. The elf fell to the ground, her neck bent at an unnatural angle.
     "Any who disrespect my policy will meet the same end." Father picked the elf up, holding her for all to see. A wave of silence passed over the elves as they stared in horror at the dead elf. Father dropped her in the snow and turned away. A sharp whistle pierced the night air. The elves waited in dread for what was to come. A figure came into view, barely visible through the heavy snow. It had an hunched back, and wore a long red and white cloak. Two horns seemed to protrude from its head. It moved slowly, taking its time as it shuffled towards the elves. Each movement was accompanied by the clanking of heavy chains. It raised its head and let out a guttural call.
     "I believe it's time you were reunited with my good friend Krampus."