Weird Santa Claus Novels & Stories

"Well, what is this then? We're seeing what our fears are. Either this mall is cursed or someone cursed it while you were complaining about how the washroom smells like." "Oh, please! The washroom did smell bad. You just puked, it won't smell like lavender." "It was bearable!" She retaliated. "Shut up! Both of you!!" Ivan shouted at us, groaning and grumbling curses at us under his breath. "Wait, so what are you both seeing then if it's not the clothing eating monsters?" I asked, slowly stepping back along with them as the army marched at us. "Turkey Chicken people," Clara replied.

"I'm a man! I don't know which is worse, being a sperm or being a man!" "Sigh," the voice interrupted her and urged her to move. "We don't have much time, as I said, you are in Santa's body right now. And your mission is to give gifts to the people that Santa forgotten to send on Christmas Eve. Technically, Christmas is over but Santa felt bad for the people he has forgotten, hence, he asked for this!" Kiera frowned looking in the mirror, "Do Santa drinks a lot? He sure has a big tummy..."

The two pulled for a tight hug before a loud honk from an old truck interrupted their cheesy moment. "Uncle George." The old man with beard that reminded me Santa, opened the shotgun seat's door. For the record, he was the nicest, coolest, most awesome adult person I had ever met. He had a different glow in his pair of brown rims which get chinky whenever he laughs louder than anyone could ever do. Probably even louder than Santa himself.

My hands were shaking so badly I had to clasp them together in front of me to keep them still. "Five million dollars," a smooth, cultured voice announced. The room fell silent. The announcer's voice cracked with excitement. "Five million dollars from paddle number seven. Going once—" "Fifty million dollars." The words cut through the silence like a gunshot. Everyone froze. I froze. Fifty million dollars. That was impossible. That was insane. Who would pay fifty million dollars for twelve days with a stranger? The lights shifted, and I caught a glimpse of movement at the back of the ballroom. A figure stood there in a crimson Santa jacket trimmed with white fur, the costume absurdly festive a

Tristan looked at Xander then nodded, "I've been to his place several times. He told me many things about the world he used to live in. He also said that there was an incident in their world that made them have to come down to this Earth!" "I'm still not even sure that 'Siren' is a reality!" Xander muttered, making Tristan look at the man. He smiled "That's because you chose to spend your day as a human at Xander's school, and you don't have much adventure to different parts of this earth. If I can share your experiences, what I conclude is. This earth is not only filled with humans or ghosts, but there are also creatures that come from other dimensions. They are real, not just a hoax. Many

) then I decided to tell her a fantasy parable to clarify my point: °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° "Long ago, at the North pole dwelt the children's Favorite person, Santa Claus. Every Christmas he'd Sneak in the kid's room and leave there a gift according To how nice they'd been all year long.

"What's so wrong with Christmas, Mr. Scrooge?" I take a swig of my beer, finishing the rest of the bottle, and shrug my shoulders. "There's nothing wrong with Christmas. I just looked at it differently I guess. When I was little, I was a weird kid. All my friends would be so excited for Christmas and they all told me how they stayed up late so that they could meet Santa, but not me. Nope, I stayed awake to try and capture the creep sneaking into my house once a year." As soon as I finish that sentence, a roar of laughter emits from all three of them.

he asks. I look up to see him holding up the shoes I had suggested and nod, “Yup, those are the ones.” “Great, I’m taking these home with me,” he says as he gets to work on changing back into his boy clothes. “Now, back to Sexy Santa.” I roll my eyes, “He is not a sexy Santa. I mean, he’s sexy, but he’s not Santa. Santa is a jolly old man with an ever-expanding waistline. Jartre is not that.” He’s also a few billion years older than Santa, but whatever.

Help. Hey everyone, I need help. Two days ago, my five-year-old sister said she saw Santa Claus in our house, but her description doesn't match the traditional image at all. She said this "Santa" had long, spider-like fingers, too many joints, crawled like a four-legged animal, and after climbing out of our chimney, it just stood silently in the corner of our living room, watching us for an hour. Most importantly, when I asked if this "Santa" had a gift sack, she said no. Just a lumpy, wrinkled, moving sack on its back.

“You wish. Here does not feel like Christmas, so let us go shop for Christmas trees, flowers, and lots of roses.” “Put those clothes down. Let us go.” I was about to drag her out, but she stopped me. “We do not celebrate Christmas around here, Lisa.” Huh? What was she saying? I noticed that she was twisting her fingers. She only does that when nervous. Are they pagan? That explains it. “Here is the Silvercrest Dominion pack, the strongest of all packs. My father is the Alpha… we are werewolves, Lisa. It is high time I come out of my closet.”