Chapter 576

The snow fell on Cochrane, Alberta, a relentless curtain blurring the world into shades of white and gray. Liam watched it from his bedroom window, the flakes dancing like lost souls against the pane. Christmas was just days away, a prospect that usually ignited a spark of excitement. This year, though, a pit of unease churned in his stomach.

He'd outgrown the innocent anticipation for presents. At fourteen, Liam understood the mechanics, the cost, the manufactured magic. Yet, something felt different this year, something darker. The air itself seemed to crackle with a wrongness he couldn't explain.

He glanced at the calendar above his desk. December 21st. Almost there. A newscast flickered on the ancient TV across his room. Something about unusual atmospheric disturbances, aurora borealis sightings far south of their normal range. Liam dismissed it. Crazy weather, that was all.

The sky outside turned an impossible shade of violet. A shiver went down Liam's spine, prickling his skin. This was beyond weather.

His mom called from downstairs. "Liam, supper's ready!"

He hesitated, tearing his attention away from the violet sky. The scent of microwaved lasagna wafted upstairs. Normalcy, or at least, an attempt at it.

He joined his mom at the small kitchen table. She smiled, her eyes tired. Christmas always increased her workload at the hospital. "Everything alright, sweetie? You seem quiet."

"Just…weird weather, that's all." He mumbled, picking at the cheesy crust of the lasagna.

She sighed, looking at him, he could see worry etched on her brow, "Honey, I know things haven't been easy since your father..." She trailed off, the unspoken pain hanging heavy between them.

He nodded, the mention of his father bringing the familiar wave of grief. Maybe the Christmas thing wouldn't be happening this year.

They ate in silence, the only sound the gentle whistle of the wind outside and the ticking of the old clock above the stove. Suddenly, the lights flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness.

"Great," his mother stated dryly, grabbing for her mobile from the counter top, "I'll call the energy co-"

Before she could finish the sentence, an unearthly horn sounded.

It wasn't like any horn he'd ever heard, high-pitched and strangely musical, carrying an undertone of something ancient and terrible. It vibrated through the walls, rattling the dishes in the cupboard.

"What was that?" Liam asked, his attention shifting out of the room in a rush.

His mother went to the living room window to see a silhouette descending from the sky. She peered out into the night. "I…I don't know, honey. But I think you should come look at this."

He pushed back his chair, and he walked toward the window with her, and gasped.

Descending through the dark-purple sky was a sleigh, but it wasn't being pulled by reindeer. Monstrous, winged creatures pulled it through the wintery night sky.

Perched in it was a figure large and round, garbed in crimson red, waving at the small village below with an excited gesture. It wasn't Saint Nick as Liam knew.

As it passed overhead, whatever craft carried Saint Nick fired what appeared to be millions of elves into the snowy town. Like ants from an anthill. It sounded like war. Screams ripped from everyone's throats around the town. There was an utter loss of safety.

It seemed as if death was coming into town with open arms, and not taking prisoners.

His mom screamed, "Get down, Liam!"

He ducked as glass shattered, tiny arrows shot through their living room windows. He looked outside again to see hundreds of little soldiers armed with makeshift weaponry marching through the streets.

Christmas lights were wrapped around pikes, candy cane blades were welded onto ax handles. They chanted an otherworldly cadence that seemed to steal what warmth that the world had left.

He turned to his mom. "We need to get out of here."

She scrambled to her feet, her face ashen, terror gripping her tight. "Where? Where can we go?"

"Anywhere but here," he replied, already heading for the back door.

They stumbled into the snow, the icy air stinging their lungs. They went through their back yard toward the edge of town. The chanting grew louder. The town was on fire now, lit not by festive lights, but by raging flames and burning homes.

He spotted movement at the edge of the woods behind their neighbor's yard. Several people they knew from the town were sprinting into the dark foliage of the forest, away from the unfolding horror.

"This way!" Liam urged, grabbing his mom's hand.

They joined the small group huddled just inside the tree line. Mr. Davies from the bakery, Mrs. Chen from the library, and a couple of other familiar faces stared back at them, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"What the hell is going on?" Mr. Davies whispered, his voice cracking.

Nobody had an answer. As they walked into the depth of the forest, a cold wind passed into Liam's face. There was something coming from somewhere they couldn't predict.

They moved deeper into the woods, stumbling through the snow, the sounds of destruction receding behind them. Liam kept glancing back, half expecting to see an army of elves pouring out of the trees. The violet sky cast long, distorted shadows, making every rustle of leaves seem like an impending threat.

After an hour of desperate hiking, they stopped to catch their breath in a small clearing. Mrs. Chen, wheezing, leaned against a tree. "We can't…keep going like this."

"But where can we go?" His mom added. She turned and kneeled down in front of Liam, giving him a tender embrace as the wintery darkness bore down around them.

The only sound was the crunching of the snow beneath their feet, the sound growing steadily, then abruptly stopping. Liam squinted, a sense of unease filling him.

Emerging from the trees was an elf.

He was taller than the ones they had seen destroying their town, at least four feet, and his eyes burned with an unnerving zeal. In one hand he carried an elaborate bow made from bone and sinew, in the other a strange horn like the one from the sky.

He lifted the horn to his lips.

Liam reacted on instinct, grabbing a fallen branch and swinging it with all his might, striking the elf across the face. The branch splintered, but the elf fell backward with a sickening crack.

Before he could rejoice in the relief of his attack, other figures poured from the woods, dozens of elves, their faces contorted with fury.

"Run!" Liam shouted, shoving his mom forward.

They scattered, the forest offering little cover. Liam risked a glance back to see the elves giving pursuit, moving with impossible speed through the trees. He crashed through the underbrush, his lungs burning, his heart hammering. The chanting started again, growing closer. He knew they were gaining on him.

He heard his mother scream.

He stopped short, his blood running cold. He turned, fighting his way back through the dense foliage. He saw her pinned against a tree by two elves, their candy-cane blades glinting in the dim light. She fought them with unmatched effort, fueled by anger, fear, love, a primal urge to protect him that was as beautiful as it was tragic.

He charged forward, tackling one of the elves. It fell to the ground, shrieking. The other turned to him, its eyes narrowed, blade raised.

Before it could strike, a dark blur flashed through the air, severing the elf's head from its body. It hit the snow with a muffled thud.

Liam stared, wide-eyed, at the figure standing over him. It was Santa, but not the jolly benefactor from the pictures. This Santa was battle-worn, his crimson suit stained with dark, unidentifiable grime. His eyes were cold, pitiless. He wielded a massive ax with ease.

"The toys have to be delivered, there can be no stopping me." Santa spoke, his tone almost bored.

Liam's head hurt with confusion and rage. "But…why? Why are you doing this?"

The big man sneered. "They stopped believing. Now I deliver pain." He spat on the snow, "Everyone did, everywhere. Their disbelief has made them all naughty, now."

The sound of rushing passed above them, dozens of elves were incoming into their current position. One shouted something unintelligible, and aimed his weapon towards Liam and his mother.

Before he had time to process it, the Santa standing above blocked the blast, his armor shielding him like it wasn't even there. "The big night can't be put off" he responded with a bored, cold demeanor. He turned towards Liam and his mother again, speaking without looking. "Get away from here now, you may be spared the naughty list."

Liam couldn't move. He knew he should run, knew he should protect his mother, but fear had rooted him to the spot. The big man had just admitted, not just into his current position, but to existence. He hadn't known if such beings truly exist.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of light erupted around them. Then there was the rush of hot wind. He crumpled to the ground, everything faded into black.

He awoke with a gasp, his body aching. The air was thick with the smell of smoke. He pushed himself up, his head swimming. The forest was gone.

In its place was a smoldering wasteland. He felt so alone, so cold, the pit of grief in his stomach he'd had to live with for the last years now boiled over. The feeling was consuming, heavy, as he stumbled through the ash.

"Mom?" he called out, his voice hoarse.

He searched frantically, his hope dwindling with each step. Then he saw it, a splash of crimson against the gray landscape.

It was his mother's jacket, torn and discarded. Beneath it lay nothing but a small, intricately carved wooden toy, an elf figurine, its face a grotesque mockery of holiday cheer.

Liam sank to his knees, a scream building in his throat, a scream of anguish, of despair, of a childhood irrevocably stolen. He was alone, utterly alone, in a world consumed by a twisted Christmas nightmare, a war brought on by the man who was meant to embody joy, and all that was left was a silent memorial.

It was brutal, final, and unending. And for Liam, this new reality would only become a bitter memory.