One of those nights

The strange sound grew louder. Ian looked at his watch and frowned, it was a little after three in the morning, he shrugged and headed upstairs, toward the sound.

“No milk or cookies, I'm disappointed.,” the man said.

“Still going for the red I see, Nick, I told you green worked better.” Ian replied, embracing Nick. “I can't believe the year has passed so swiftly.”

“Tell me about it,” Nick said, letting a half empty sack drop to the ground. “What happened to your shirt, isn't that one of your favourites?”

“Intruders. Shooting me on Christmas day of all things. What is the world coming to?”

“Tell me about it,when I first started this I was rushing about from sunset to sunrise. Now I finish so early as to wonder if I should bother.”

“You kept it going longer than I thought.”

“It eases the guilt, you know that, giving to the kids, some of whom I made orphans. The media and adults have changed my role but if I can do even a little...”

“I'm on your side, remember.” Ian said.

“Sorry, been one of those nights. Telepathy can be more curse than blessings sometimes, you know that. I'm just hungry.”

“Then you'll love your present. Follow me,” Ian said, smiling, heading into the cellar.

“Monster.”

“You shoot an unarmed man who offers you what you want and I'm the monster?” Ian said, “that one is mine by the way.”

“Santa?”

“Some call me that.” Nick said.


“That's Pete, he's yours.”

“You always did get me the best presents, Ian.” Nick said, sinking his fangs into the neck.

“Well it is Christmas.”

(Word Count 294)