Novel & Cerita Weird Santa Claus

“But I think Santa is coming back from his break now.” “Wanna go meet Santa?” I ask her, and she claps her hands, giggling with delight, even though she doesn’t quite grasp the concept yet. As we approach, there he is… our local celebrity, movie star, and superhero… and my adoring husband. You wouldn’t recognize him if you didn’t know, with his Santa suit and fluffy white beard. He even sports a fake belly under the jacket, but despite that, he remains the most handsome Santa I’ve ever seen. Fortunately, the kids don’t notice; they only see Santa.

"Oh yeah? Then what are you guys then if Nate is a vampire?" "Dan and I are wolves." Ren answered. "Fred is a warlock and Ace is an Elf." Santa's helper says what? I roamed my eyes at each and every one of them. They all have the same hard look on their faces as if they wanted to take a dump. That was why I couldn't stop the laughter that erupted from me. I backed away and sat on my bed as I continued to laugh. Tears had formed in my eyes so I started to wipe them away with my finger. When I looked up, they still had the same look on their faces.

“She stopped believing in Santa when she was six. Told me she knew Santa wasn’t real because she caught me wrapping presents one night.” Jordan chuckled under his breath. “I tried to convince her it was a misunderstanding,” Laila continued, shaking her head. “But once she makes up her mind, that’s it. There’s no changing it. But when people talk to her about Santa, she plays along.” Jordan nodded knowingly. “Sounds familiar.” He glanced down at Malaya again. “She’s a lot like me.” “She really is,” Laila agreed. “She’s funny and smart and stubborn in the best way. She got the best parts of you.”

3rd January, 1999(morning) The Warehouse Lana Its a never ending circle. A repeated sequence I experience everyday, locked up in this room with little or no contact. A hollow feeling in my heart whenever I think about my family, the grief I feel whenever I remember those who died in that bloody Christmas party.

Serendipity nodded, tearing her eyes away from the structure at last and smiling into those familiar green ones. As Corey led her inside, they were instantly greeted by dozens of working elves, each of whom called out, “Merry Christmas!” which Serendipity would have found rather odd considering Christmas was over months ago were she not standing in Santa’s Workshop at the North Pole. Instead, she answered with a jolly, “Merry Christmas!” in return. She noticed, and found it rather odd, that though Corey always acknowledged the speaker, he only chose to say, “Hello,” or “Good evening,” in response, never “Merry Christmas.”

I was sure the moon goddess would give Mason someone better, that would love him genuinely, and he wouldn't feel like he needed to compete with anyone. We made a lot of stops because I had to eat and I had to pee. Mason laughed at me while Marcus grumbled. They took turns driving while I slept most of the time at the backseat of the jeep. We arrived at the gunsmith's house. His name was Isaac Western, he was the only gunsmith that made bullets capable of killing werewolves, and because of that, he was filthy rich. I knew Marcus had more money, but for a human, he was filthy rich. What Marcus had was generations of hard work, this man, made his money in his lifetime.

Sana’s heels clicked against the floor as she approached, her perfume announcing her presence before her voice did. “Well, well…” she said smoothly, her lips curling. “What do we have here?” Timtim blinked up, confused. “Oh… hello,” she said politely, hugging the lunchbox closer. Sana tilted her head, studying her like a predator circling prey. “You don’t belong here. This is not a place for… little dolls like you.” Timtim frowned faintly. “I just came to bring him lunch,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm.

Christmas was going to be a disaster. And maybe… something much worse.

Santa. Not the usual college guy in a fake beard they normally hired. This Santa was… different. Tall, broad-shouldered, filling out the red velvet suit in a way that made it strain across his chest. The white trim framed thick arms, and even sitting down he radiated quiet authority. His beard was real—full, silver-streaked, perfectly groomed,and the eyes above the half-moon spectacles were a sharp, piercing blue that locked onto me the second I stepped into view. I swear my stomach flipped.

Everything outside looked washed-out and gray, like the whole world was covered in doom-colored fog. I needed to wash up and fix my makeup, so I ended up being a minute late. Everyone else had already picked their roles. All that was left was the secretary position in the general manager's office. [Oh, no. She's done for.] [This is actually insane. The GM is a chainsaw psycho with multiple personalities. One wrong move, and you'll get shredded. That pick-me girl is finished!] Verda walked up beside me and leaned in close. "The last person who opened that door got sawed in half immediately."