Silent Night

I stumbled through the blizzard, my breath frosting in the air, until I saw it—the Workshop, but wrong. Twisted candy cane barricades, smoldering toy piles. And then him: Santa, bloodied fur-trimmed coat flaring as he swung a broken sleigh blade through a swarm of snarling elves. Their eyes glowed venom-green, their gifts hissed with hidden shrapnel.

Kramvok’s laugh slit the chaos—a jagged icicle of a sound. He lunged, his armor stitched from stolen stockings, his sword weeping frostbite. Santa roared, parrying with a wrench still clutched in his fist: "You forgot the magic!" Santa Proclaimed

Then—light. A pulse of scarlet and gold, like a thousand carols given form. The elves crumpled, sobbing. I woke clutching my blanket, the scent of peppermint and Steel still fresh in my senses...