SNATCHING SANTA
The age old battle of good vs evil played out at Christmas
SNATCHING SANTA
Editor’s Note: I wrote this short story a couple years ago and have reprinted it on my website every year since. If you haven’t read it, I hope you enjoy it. If you have read it; read it a again. Happy Holidays.
By D. S. Mitchell
It was a small noise that woke Santa. Something out of place in the middle of the night. He lay in the dark, wondering if he’d imagined, or possibly dreamt the sound. Mary Claus slept by his side, her steady breathing the only sound in their darkened bedroom.
“There it was again,” he said under his breath.
This time it seemed to be at the back of the house. It was the sound of feet on gravel, a noise that wouldn’t be noticed during daylight hours, but seemed magnified by the darkness. It was close to 3:00 am. He worried that a sneak thief might be trying to break into his toy shop.
The suddenness of the event shocked him. The front and back door were simultaneously kicked in, and several men rushed through the battered doors into the house. The sound of polished boots on hardwood floors echoed down the halls. Mrs. Claus gasped as they both sat upright. Santa started to get out of bed, but the light came on before his foot hit the floor.
Two men armed with automatic weapons stood in the doorway, blocking any possible escape. The taller of the two men took in the room in a glance before lowering his eyes to the bed. He narrowed his eyes and pointed his weapon directly at Santa.
“What do you want?” Santa demanded.
“Shut up,” was his answer.
The weapon remained on its target and the tall man warmed the trigger with an agitated finger before saying, “Get dressed old man, you’re coming with us.”
Santa could see the shadows of several men moving about the house, the intruders opening closets, drawers, and doors. Mrs. Claus screamed. Santa hushed her with a hug and whispered reassurances.
“I said get your ass out of bed, Chubby.”
