Weird Santa Claus Novels & Stories

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."

All I want is something, anything that will act like a distraction, anything that will shield me from those men. Looking back, I cursed under my breath when I noticed them chasing after me. “What the fuck is their deal?” Why are they acting as if I stole their Christmas present? I cringed at the word Christmas. Let’s just say I have the worst experience when it comes to Christmas. Growing up, I used to think that Santa Claus is actually real, that he actually dropped gifts every Christmas Eve. Imagine the disappointment of a seven years old when she found Santa Claus bleeding out on their porch, only that it wasn’t actually Santa, but my father Mr. Fordd Smith.

How far can the bastard have gone? Then, I see him again, tall against the crowd. He emerges from the next door along from Antonio's, a small hair-salon-cum-barber-shop. Shoving something into his pocket, he turns my way... The clothing store? It appears Santa Claus is doing his rounds, collecting his gifts from all the little boys and girls on his list, regardless of whether they're naughty or nice. Hastily, I move on, cross the street to merge with the hubbub of people, then double-back on myself to wait, watching the store entrance as he enters, strolling in as though he owns the fucking place.

I'd rather not inform her yet of my residence amongst a family tied to the Mafia or what terrible doom may await me if I choose to leave the manor after I turned 19. My bleak self-assessment disrupts as soon as the Christmas melodies halt on the stereo overhead. The children and I exchange glances of confusion. Instead, we hear the distinct sounds of jingles somewhere. Suddenly, the manor's main entrance doors open apart. In trot, a dozen reindeers tugging a sled. Someone clad as Santa, perches upon the sled, leaning back against a massive velvety sack overflowing with gifts. A few people in elves' costumes trail in after, closing the doors behind them to keep the outdoor warmth from enterin

Wrapping his red scarf more tightly around his neck, Brady found a spot to watch the parade. It was a good show, though nothing like the parades he was used to in the big city. Still, the homemade floats, the bands, the clowns and Christmas characters throwing candy--it was all nice. He wore a smile most of the time he stood there watching, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from Noelle, not even at the end when Santa came by, and all of the kids went crazy. He needed to find her. But what if she still wouldn’t talk to him? After the parade was over, Brady decided to walk down toward the park. Maybe there was a chance she’d be there, near the Christmas tree. They’d had so much fun decorati

“ Santha, i don'th wnow if you can buth i wouwd wiwe you tho mawe carther shthay withh ush forever. He mawesh ush aww shmiwe and ith wouwd be aweshome tho theww widsh x-man ish our friend. Pwush, we aww wiwe boysh.. even tia wiwesh thhem... sho we couwd aww wiwe carther thogethher. Excepth ivy. Pweashe mawe him wiwe carther thoo. (Santa, I don't know if you can but I would like you to make Carter stay with us forever. He makes us all smile and it would be awesome to tell kids X-man is our friend. Plus, we all like boys.. even Tia likes them... so we could all like Carter together. Except Ivy. Please make him like Carter too.) Santa looked down at Ollie with wide eyes then looked up at us and