.

Santa is Coming
a Christmas fairytale
based in a story by
Fritz Harrmann
&
the Jolly Roger
.
There were only sixteen more shopping days left till Christmas, and nineteen year old Jerry and his eight year old brother, Rich, were standing in line, waiting to tell Santa what they wanted to get, with the usual lengthy list of computer games, toy cars and so on that they'd been giving Santa every year around this time.

Jerry was awfully old to believe in Santa Clause, but had had an accident a few months ago that scrambled his brains and while an adult on some things he had a desperate need to believe in things small kids believe in -- the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny, Santa Clause, God, even his parents.

Jerry's parents had tried to get him declared legally incompetent, but the courts ruled that he was a young man legally responsible for himself despite a greater than normal need to believe in childish things -- he was able to tell right from wrong and even scored much higher than most on intelligence and maturity tests. The presiding judge concluded,

"If we start declaring people incompetent for believing in Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, soon we'll be declaring them incompetent for believing in Jesus and Mohammed and Buddha.
xxxx"And we'll soon have to declare incompetent anyone hoping for a better world and believing in the goodness -- or innate badness -- of mankind, either one. No, naïve belief is not sufficient grounds for declaring anyone incompetent.
xxxx"And since your son, Jerry, has demonstrated adult competence in all other aspects, he must be considered an adult in all ways."
The managers of the Mall had wanted to prevent Jerry from sitting on Santa's lap, but after his parents pointed out that college girls often got to stand in line and sit on Santa's lap, they decided the better part of legal valor was to let older brothers go up with their brothers or sisters too, and sit on Santa's lap if they wanted -- a public relations compromise that satisfied Jerry's parents.

When Rich had finished and hopped off of Santa's lap, Jerry walked up and plopped down. Santa put his arm around the young man and laughed.

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas! My, you're a big boy now."
Jerry was -- at six two with two hundred forty-two pounds of hard meaty muscle.
"Ho ho ho! Now tell Santa, have you been a good boy this year?"

"Oh yes, Santa! I've been a very good boy!" Jerry effused genuinely.

Indeed, Jerry had been a very good boy. He really wanted to be good -- more than anything else in the world since his accident -- like Amadeus in the movie.

Jerry even wished he was a lot smaller, like his brother. But on the other hand, he liked playing hard and exercising too and since the accident he'd studied real hard in college as well as working out in the gym -- all to please someone -- his parents, his teachers, the soccer coach.

Since he had been working out, he'd packed on thirty-two pounds -- all meat -- mostly to his thighs and arms, but also to his shoulders and pecs, even a few pounds to his abs -- like handsful of plaster slapped and only wet-brushed smoothed. And since the accident, his face had taken on an innocence unusual for young men of such stature. If anything, Jerry looked like a Romance novel cover boy -- powerful body with mush between the ears.

But at the mall, the curly haired young man had attracted just as many admiring glances from men as from women. And while he naïvely believed in Santa Clause, Jerry also knew he was being cruised -- by both sexes -- and carried himself proud, showing off his beautiful body as he helped his little brother shop for Christmas wishes.

In the children's section especially, men and women with their small children would stand there staring at him, more hypnotized than conscious, mesmerized by his beauty and their thoughts of what they would do if they could only get him in bed. If they only knew of his weakness, they might try. But as it was, looking was all they did -- looking and dreaming.

"Yes, Santa, I've been a very good boy."

"You must have been exercising too. You've got lots of meat on dem bones."

Jerry grinned bashfully.
"Lots of people look at me, Santa. I think they think I'm pretty."

"I think you're a pretty boy too. Now what do YOU want for Christmas, young man?"

Jerry pulled out his little list and handed it to Santa,
"I put my name and address on it too, Santa -- you have so much to remember. I don't want you to get confused."
Looking at the list and name, the store Santa said,
"Thank you ... Jerry ... Santa won't forget you. No he won't."
He patted Jerry on the head and ho-ho-ho'd and Jerry hopped off Santa's lap and he and Rich went back to shopping and helping their mother take boxes and sacks out to the car.


Christmas Eve Jerry and Rich couldn't keep away from the Christmas tree, picking up this and that package, hefting, tilting, shaking, trying to figure out what was inside -- both the ones with their names on them and those with no names at all. They'd watch some TV then run back and obsess round the tree then go back and have some cookies and milk then go back again -- over and over, getting more excited each time.

Finally, however, it was time to go to bed. As he was going to his bedroom, Rich noticed Jerry carrying a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, setting them oh so carefully on the coffee table.

"Don't tell me you're really planning on leaving cookies for Santa Claus."

"I am so."

"There's no Santa Claus. It's just a guy in a suit."

"Nuh-uh. Mom says there is so a Santa Claus."

"We don't even have a chimney. How's he going to get in? Besides the presents are all underneath the tree already."

"Mommy! Rich says there isn't a Santa Claus!"

"What a dweeb!"

Dad walked into the room.
"Listen, boys. If you don't stop fighting this very instant, there won't be any presents for either of you."
That ended the quarrel, and the Jerry went up to his bedroom.

Now, although Rich was old enough to have serious doubts about the existence of Santa Claus, he was still young enough to want to hedge his bets. So, he got some cookies of his own from the kitchen, and put them on the coffee table next to his older brother's. Then he put on his pajamas, got into bed and, despite the excitement, was soon asleep, while visions of Nintendo games and twelve-speed off road bikes danced in his head.


In the middle of the night, Jerry suddenly woke up. With a slight gasp, he realized there was a large, round figure leaning over his bed.

"Shhhh. Don't be scared, Jerry. It's just me. Santa Claus."
In fact, Jerry was able to make out the form of a corpulent old man with long, white whiskers, dressed in a red suit, standing next to him. Jerry was more excited than he could imagine -- it was all he could do to hold in his pee -- out of all the boys and girls in the world, Santa was taking time out on this busiest night of the year to visit with him in person.

Santa ho-ho-ho'd softly and sat down on the bed next to Jerry. Then he said,

"Jerry, I have a special treat for you."

"What kind of treat, Santa?"

"Every year, I select a group of my favorite boys and bring them to visit Santa's castle at the North Pole. Want to come along, Jerry?"

Jerry knew he'd been a very good boy all year but he wasn't so naïve to think he was one of the best boys in the world, so it couldn't just be because he was good that Santa liked him best. But no matter, he did and that was a thrill beyond thrill. He grinned and panted hard, he was so excited.

Santa's eyes twinkled in the dark as he brought out a long strip of paper and peered at it.

"I've made up my list. Now I've checked it twice. Sometimes I find the naughtiest boys are also the most nice."
Jerry wriggled his eyebrows in a sorrowful hurt. Santa slapped him on the thigh just above the knee and added,
"But sometimes the best boys are the nicest too. You're a really good boy, Jerry. A really good boy."
Santa chuckled again and squeezed Jerry's leg through his pajamas. Jerry grinned again. A thought flickered across his mind -- that Santa could be a fag just after his pretty body so many others were after. But he pushed the idea out of his head. Not Santa Clause.

But the thought kept flitting around his mind like a mosquito he couldn't quite swat. So he decided it didn't matter if it was true -- Santa was next to God in being better than good all the time, so if Santa was a fag, then that was just as good as being anything else -- maybe better because he didn't chase after girls -- women -- floozies.

"Don't worry, Jerry. You're on Santa's list, all right."

"Gee, Santa. That sounds great!"

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

"But , Santa. Shouldn't we tell Mom and Dad where I'm going?"

"There's no need, Jerry. Time at the North Pole doesn't work like regular time. We could have as long a Christmas party as we wanted, and I could still get you back in bed before your parents ever woke up. We elves have magic powers, you know."

Without giving Jerry the chance to reply, Santa stood up and held out his hand. Jerry took Santa's hand and stood and suddenly there was a blur and Jerry found himself sitting next to Santa in a sleigh flying through a pitch black winter night.

Jerry's heart was pounding fiercely -- it was true, it was true, it was true! Everyone kept telling him he was stupid and naïve believing in Santa, but he was right! And Santa had picked him as one of his very special boys! Jerry was the happiest he had ever been in his whole life.

Jerry shivered, wearing nothing but his thin pajamas. Santa unbuttoned his coat and stretched his arm around Jerry and pulled him tight -- his arm and coat somehow stretching to wrap around Jerry. It was all so magic.

Santa's body warmth was cozy, like a fire -- like a bunch of cats snuggling close. Jerry felt so safe and wanted despite the cold blackness of the night and flying through the air all out in the open.

Jerry leaned his head over and rested it against the fat man's bushy beard, stroking it slowly like a cat rubbing his cheek against yours. He closed his eyes and reveled in this magical moment.

After a while, Jerry sat up and looked around. Everything was so black but the stars made it easy to tell up from down -- and they were very high up because he could see water every so often sparkle just a little way, way down there.

He looked forward at the line of horned beasts pulling the sleigh -- Jerry wasn't sure what they were. They looked somewhat like deer -- reindeer maybe. But they didn't look exactly like the zoo animals -- they were flapping immense bat-like wings. So that was the way Santa's reindeer flew -- they had wings -- it fit -- it was all magic and mystic and very, very real.

Out front there was Rudolf -- just like the song said. And his nose was so bright it too was magical -- and now they were flying over snow and he could see the red glare reflected off the white below.


Suddenly, the sleigh landed on the roof next to a large chimney on a very large three story house.

"Here we are, Jerry."

"Wow! But, Santa. How do we get inside?"

"Why, through the chimney, of course."

Santa took his arm from around Jerry and grabbed hold of the railing and pulled himself up. Jerry stood up too and Santa put his arm back around Jerry's shoulders.

Through the blur, Jerry was dimly aware of being whizzed through the air and down the chimney -- almost instantly, they were standing in front of a huge fireplace in an immense hall.

Santa gave his big boy a pat on the head and hugged him tight. Jerry hugged back and stroked the fat man's beard with his cheek, fighting back the tears of joy.

Santa said,

"I've got to go and get the rest. I'll be right back. Ho ho ho!"
In the blink of an eye, Santa disappeared back up the chimney again. An amazed Jerry turned around and took in his surroundings.

The hall was brightly decorated in Christmas ornaments and a huge Christmas tree was standing in a corner, not far from the fireplace. The hall already had a number of young men all his age eating Christmas treats and playing games.

Then Jerry started clapping his hands with childish delight as he saw honest-to-god elves scurrying among the other young men with trays of goodies. Soon Jerry was digging into the refreshments too.

All the while Santa was popping in and out every minute or two with new young guys for the party. By the time he'd made his last trip, there were several hundred nineteen to twenty year old guys from all over the world in the hall.

All of them were cover-boy model material like Jerry -- some muscle guys, some surfer types, some lanky -- all with cute, boyish faces and a sort of something that made them innocent and at the same time -- little boys in young men's bodies.

They all mixed and had fun -- and somehow he could understand all of them no matter what language they were speaking -- not like in StarTrek with everyone speaking English -- it was something more magical -- no matter how they said it, Jerry instantly understood what they meant.

The party continued for what seemed like hours. In fact, eventually Santa declared it was evening and time for them to all go. The boys oh'd with disappointment but got ready to go back home.

Santa wasn't taking them home. Instead the elves broke the party up and shooed them all through the door. Jerry looked back before going through the door and saw Santa walking off with his arm around one last guy who he'd kept behind for some reason or other.

The elves shooed Jerry and the last of the young men through the door and guided them through a labyrinth of corridors to a series of doors all lined up next to each other, not a foot between one and the next.

An elf opened a door right in front of Jerry and shoved him in. There was a whole room there -- as big as his bedroom at home, maybe bigger. The elf hung around until Jerry had gotten underneath the covers. Then he sprinkled something --fairy dust -- over Jerry to help him fall to sleep.


When Jerry woke up the next morning, he found an entire wardrobe of cool, new clothes in his closet. After washing up and brushing his teeth, he got dressed and went out.

The halls were full of other guys who, like himself, were exploring the castle. It was a veritable paradise. There were video arcades, a swimming pool, a gymnasium, a bowling alley, a rock-climbing wall, even a room with obstacles to do stunts with skateboards or skates.

At regular intervals along the hallways, there were dining rooms where the young guys could get as much as they wanted of all kinds of Christmas goodies.

Jerry was beginning to not care if he ever got back home in time or not. And as the days went on he had plenty of chances of asking Santa about it -- Santa spent much of his time playing with his favorite boys.

Jerry did ask a few times, but Santa always gave him the same answer.

"Time doesn't pass at the North Pole like it does on Earth. Stay and have fun -- all the fun in the world. Stay as long as you want -- there's no hurry. I can get you home before you left -- so you can even see yourself go.

"But once you go back, that's it. So stay until you can't stand it any more. Then I'll take you home. OK, Jerry."

"OK, Santa!" Jerry said, saluting like a toy soldier.

Soon Jerry settled into a regular routine with the rest of the guys. All the boys had the run of the castle all day long, but when evening came and it was time for Santa's supper, they were always sent to bed and sprinkled with fairy dust to put them to sleep.

Jerry thought that was kind of weird, but it wasn't weird enough to bother him. Besides, he had a hard time understanding the other guys at college, so just because he didn't understand Santa and the elves didn't mean anything. The only thing was, it was hard knowing when it was getting close to Santa's supper time -- it was always dark outside -- this was the North Pole, after all -- the only way of distinguishing day from night being whether the lights in the hallways were turned up or down.

Although he hadn't managed to keep count of the days, he guessed he must have been at the North Pole for weeks, if not months. In fact, Jerry eventually realized that when he looked out the windows he never even saw the moon or stars. All there was was a pitch black sky above and an endless expanse of snow below.

When Jerry asked Santa about it, he explained that actually the North Pole was in a different dimension than Earth. Jerry took his word for it, but it all seemed very magical. And Jerry was starting to get homesick. He knew he'd be back home Christmas Eve night and even get to see himself wake up to see Santa for the first time. And he started thinking of going home.

Lots of the other guys had already gone home. There were still more than two hundred guys, but Jerry started missing some of the guys he'd gotten real close too. So he wouldn't be the first to go home.

Jerry started noticing things. The elves evidently were under orders from Santa to meet the guys' every want and desire -- they did whatever any of the guys asked them to do. But the first time one of them smiled, Jerry was shocked to see it had sharp teeth. The elves soon seemed more like something from the movie Critters than something from a Christmas story. So Jerry kept his contact with the elves to a minimum, and after he talked with the other guys he noticed some of them were keeping their distance too.

After a while the number of guys was down to under two hundred and Jerry decided maybe he should ask Santa to take him home too.

"Santa, did Bertie go home?"

"Ho ho ho", Santa laughed pensively. "Bertie you say? No ... not yet. I don't think so. Maybe he's with the elves somewhere."

Then Santa twisted his head and crunched his eyebrows and said,
"Bertie ... oh, yes. Yes, I took him home a couple days ago. I was thinking of Bartie ... Bertie, Bartie ... I'm an old man -- older than you can imagine, Jerry -- and sometimes I don't hear as good as I used to.

"Yes ... I took Bertie home. He was real happy to go back, but was sad too. He changed his mind and wanted to come back, but once I take you back home, you can't come back here again -- not ever again.

"Are you ready to go home, Jerry? Or do you want to stay a few more days? Remember everything will be just like you left it. It's all magic, Jerry. Just for my special boys. But even I have to obey God's laws. And he says one trip only."

Jerry smiled. He was a little concerned, but Santa had a way of making things all better -- like his mother kissing a scrape when he was a kid.
"But Santa...." Jerry started to protest.
Santa just brushed him off -- he was busy.
"Now run along and play, Jerry."
Jerry went to the gym and started pumping iron. It always made him feel better -- besides, he could think better when he was lifting weights.

It just didn't seem right. Either explanation -- Bertie hadn't been homesick -- he would have told Jerry. He really liked it here and said he never wanted to go home. And Bertie was as suspicious of the sharp toothed elves as Jerry was, so he wouldn't have gone off somewhere with a bunch of them -- not with telling somebody, not without telling Jerry.

The more he thought about it, the more wrong things started to seem. Sure it was a magic place -- all kinds of magic. That was true. But Jerry remembered something Captain Picard said once, when Q was doing superfantasmagorical -- the beaming and things they took for granted would be magic to people just two hundred years ago -- people now. Maybe Santa and the elves were some kind of aliens -- not humans at all.

Jerry decided he had to find out what was going on. It occurred to him the key might be found after all the boys had been put to bed so Jerry washed his face and hair with shampoo and didn't rinse it off. It was all sticky, but it covered his whole head and neck and when his elf sprinkled the fairy dust over him, he just pretended to go to sleep.

As soon as the elf was gone, Jerry slipped out of the bed and tip-toed to the door and listened hard. He cracked the door and snuck a peek then slowly opened the door and pulled it shut behind him.

He tip-toed hurriedly through the darkened corridors to the main hall. Skulking through the door, he snuck over to the enormous Christmas tree in the corner and hid underneath it.

He was just in time. Santa came in with a couple elves and sank down in an armchair by the chimney. After a brief stretch, he ordered the elves to bring him his supper.

While the elves were gone, Jerry had to cover his mouth to keep from gasping out loud -- there was a dark blur poofing out of the chimney. At first it looked like a big bat, but it resolved itself into an aristocratic-looking older gentleman. Santa stood up.

"Ho ho ho! My dear count! Tonight the meat d'jour is Bertie."
Several elves pushed Bertie in -- he was naked and his hands were tied behind his back. Jerry had never seen Bertie all naked before and he looked funny with his cock bouncing back and forth as he walked very reluctantly toward Santa and the other old man.

Jerry was more afraid than he could ever remember. He had to fight hard against the urge to jump up and run away -- the only thing he could do was hide and keep as quiet as he could.

But as afraid as he was, Jerry could tell Bertie was even more afraid. He had already pissed all over himself and another drizzle of piss dripped from his cock. There was no brown stains and Jerry knew if it was him, he'd have shat all over himself so he figured they had given him an enema or something to clean him all out. That made sense.

The elves shoved Bertie to Santa who grabbed the boy and held him tight as the man Santa had called Count clasped his mouth over his friend's throat. Jerry stared as the count wrapped his arm over Bertie and Santa, enveloping him like Bela Lugosi in those old movies.

He pulled his head up and his eyes were all white except for a black dot in the middle of each. Bertie's blood was dripping from fangs. The Count licked his lips and delicately patted the corners of his mouth with a black handkerchief.

Bertie was all white looking; his eyes drifted and his head just lolled to the side. Santa was holding him up so he didn't fall. Then Santa opened his mouth -- showing fangs like the Count's. He bit into Bertie's throat and finished draining his blood.

Bertie was now almost as white as snow -- wrapped in Santa's bright red coat. His eyes were glazed over and there was no hint of life left in him at all.

Jerry had a hard time fighting back tearful sniffles, but he had to -- everything depended on it. The wish that he had stopped believing in Santa Clause a long time ago flitted across Jerry's mind, but he had to push it out so he could concentrate on keeping hidden till the morning.

Maybe he could tell the others and they could organize something -- fight. It would probably be futile, but it would be better than nothing. Nothing meant being sucked dry by a vampire! Santa was a vampire!

As shocked as he was already, Jerry was even more shocked when Santa leaned over again and, grabbing Bertie's neck with his teeth, bit right through it. He chewed what he had in his mouth then gulped it down and took another bite -- like he was eating an apple -- and Bertie's neck was the apple.

With the fourth bite, Santa had bit through and Bertie's head hung from just a strip of something bloody. Santa leaned down and tongued at the strip and then bit through that too and Bertie's head fell to the floor.

It was covered in an instant beneath a dozen or more scrambling elves. By the time Santa had gulped down Bernie's neck, there was also nothing left of the head -- not even the skull -- nothing except some elves picking their teeth.

Jerry fought hard to keep from screaming, from crying, even from breathing hard. He was frozen there watching, listening.

The Count and Santa started talking again -- about nothing in particular, it seemed -- just weather and what the kids wanted next Christmas. During their conversation, Santa continued biting off chunks from Bertie's body, tossing the bones to the elves, who devoured them with their crunching teeth, leaving not a trace.

"Are you sure you don't want any, Count?"

"No, I managed to find something to eat on my way here. You certainly seem to be doing well for yourself here. It's hard to believe you're the same elf I knew just a few centuries ago. You've really put on weight."

"Yes. Ho ho ho. When you eat at least one hunka-hunka boy every day, that puts on the pounds. And with boys much bigger than they used to be, building their bodies with all that exercising and good nutrition, it all adds up.

"I'll admit I'm a far cry from the days when the world knew me as the Erl king and I was reduced to chasing people on horseback."

"Someone made a rather nice song about you though."

"Yes, but I'm the subject of even more songs now. Although for my subjects I'll always be their beloved Erl king. But for almost all humans now I'm the jolly, old elf."

"I'd be pretty jolly too if I could eat as you do."

"Yes, out of those millions of kids each year, I can pick out only what I want -- and what I like are the boys with some aging on them -- they're tougher but a whole lot more flavorful than the youngest ones. I find nineteen, twenty year olds who've been putting on muscle the tastiest -- their meat is still tender and there's lots of it. But the stringy boys are fun and tasty in their own way.

"I guess you could say I'm not much of a gourmand -- I like 'em all."

They both laughed as Santa added,
"Not many older boys believe in me, and I can't go where I'm not invited."

"Yes, I have that problem too. But once invited, we can go back when we've got the munchies."

They laughed again.

Jerry squeezed the tears out of his eyes as he realized how foolish he had been believing in Santa -- if he hadn't had that accident and started believing in him all over again, he'd never be in this mess.

"You know, Count, the boys I pick -- all being the age they are, no one thinks anything about them disappearing -- boys that age are always leaving the nest."

"But so much work ... and all in one night. I normally just go out for a nosh when I feel like it. But you -- look at you -- all in one night!"

"Oh, I have more time than that. All over the world, stores hire men to impersonate me for children. I use my powers to look out through their senses and check the children they're talking with. But mostly I even scope out of the impersonators -- the younger ones.

"You'd be surprised how some secretly believe in me and when I drop in on them they're agog with excitement and more than eager to go with me.

"And every so often there's a nineteen, twenty year old who believes and wants to talk with Santa. Sometimes they act like they're just going through the motions, but I can tell.

"I've even used my powers to encourage the stores to extend the time they do this for two months prior to the big day. I have plenty of time to make up my list. And on Christmas Eve, all that's left to do is go out and reap the harvest. Then ten months of living off the fat of the land."

Santa got up and he and the Count drifted over toward the tree. After his meal, his big belly was distended even larger than before, but it was too packed with all of Bertie's meat to quiver like a bowl of jelly any more.

"Ho ho ho! What have we here? Another present for Santa?"

Jerry crawled into the corner behind the tree.
"Come on. Don't be afraid."
Santa patted himself on the belly.

"Santa has plenty of room for everyone. Ho ho ho!"

Jerry's heart pounding in terror; he cowered as far back in the corner as he could. But there was no escaping. He wanted to scream but as he opened his mouth nothing came out.

Santa looked through the tree branches and didn't find Jerry. He shrugged his shoulders and said,

"Thought I saw one of the boys lurking. My eyes...."

"That's what an all meat diet does to you -- no vitamin A. You need to eat some carrots with your boys, my dear Erl."

They both laughed again and Jerry cowered, hoping Santa wouldn't take another look, wouldn't peer around the tree.

Just then several elves came in laughing and joking, the two boys Santa had ordered for the Count in tow.

"I'm sorry, Santa, but I really must fly now. I thank you for the blood."

"No problem, my dear count. Drop in any time. There'll always be a bite to eat -- or drink, in your case."

The count took the two boys in his arms -- they were bigger than him but neatly tucked under his arms and disappeared into his cape as he transmogrified back into a bat-thing, flapped his wings a few times, then disappeared up the chimney.

The instant he was gone, Santa and the elves left the hall, apparently sated -- at least for the moment.


Jerry crept back into the dark hall soon as he figured the coast was clear then tip-toed as fast as he could back to his room. He carefully opened the door and slipped in then closed it behind him -- slow and quiet. He crept into bed and pulled the covers over and tried to go to sleep.

Despite all his fright, Jerry was super tired and was starting to drift off to sleep when he sensed the door opening and the swish of an elf or two in his room.

Jerry's heart was pounding so hard he was sure they could hear it. He tried to breathe slow and easy, but all of a sudden he snorted so he turned over like he was asleep and just moving some. Jerry felt a small hand touch his forehead then pull back.

He heard the elves creep out of his room and close the door -- his ears were super sensitive now. Then he heard the familiar click of a lock being turned.

Jerry's head was pounding and spinning. His heart was in his throat. He was so scared he just had to piss. He got up and tried the door -- it was locked and he couldn't get to the bathroom. And there was no way he could hold it -- he just pissed where he stood then cried and skulked back to the bed and got in, so ashamed of having to piss on the floor and so afraid of what was going to happen to him.

Somehow Jerry drifted to sleep and slept hard -- the sleep of death. Then he was startled awake by the click of the lock being opened.

Jerry sat up and the elf came in and put a tray of food on a table, sniffing and frowning as he realized Jerry had pissed next to the door.

"Why's my door locked?" Jerry asked, trying to sound innocent.
The elf said nothing, ignoring him. Jerry tried to cajole,
"Come on! You can at least tell me why!"

"Santa knows when you've been sleeping...."

The elf paused at the door and turned around, showing his pointy teeth in a menacing grin.
"....and he knows when you're awake."
The door slammed shut behind it. Jerry gulped. What was he going to do? Even if he could get past the locked door, there was no way out of the castle other than up the chimney. And even if he got out of the castle, where would he go in the frozen wasteland outside that stretched out to infinity in all directions?

That didn't stop him from trying his door over and over and over again. But nothing. Only when the elves brought food -- otherwise he picked out a corner and used it as a latrine. The stench nauseated him and he didn't feel like eating but after a while he couldn't help himself and ate what was proffered.

And as the days went by, Jerry tried the door less and less often. The elves brought him food but, apparently because now he was kept safely locked up in his room, they didn't bother sprinkling him with fairy dust any more at night.

For a while, Jerry fantasized about overpowering one and escaping out the door and rallying the others. They didn't have magic, but they were much larger than any of the elves except Santa -- he out weighed most of them but wasn't as tall. But every time one smiled at him with those sharp teeth, Jerry couldn't bring himself to attempt his escape -- not barehanded.

The worst was at night, when, without the fairy dust, he'd lie awake in bed, listening to the sounds of the castle. It got to the point where the sound of "Ho ho ho" echoing through the empty corridors would make his blood run cold.

Then one morning, some elves entered his room, and they weren't carrying any trays of food. Immediately, he realized his turn had come. He turned and tried to run -- it didn't matter where.

"No! Please!"
But the elves had Jerry bound hand and foot with the same stuff Bernie had been bound with -- all before he could raise a hand -- they moved every bit as fast as Santa when they wanted -- faster than Jerry could see.

Then there was a gag across his mouth and he was being dragged out of the room. The other doors were closed and the hall was dark -- it was night -- or what passed for night -- and the other guys were in bed.


The elves dragged Jerry into a large room that seemed to be some sort of kitchen. The first thing they did was to inject some warm water up his ass-hole, cleaning him out inside. And once his insides were clean, they laid him on a table and rubbed him all over with aromatic oils.

Then they placed Jerry in a tub filled with a delicious-smelling marinade, and left him to soak. After he'd been lying there, absorbing the flavor all day, the elves lifted him out and dried him off.

They dragged him into the main hall. The room was mostly in shadow -- the only lights were around Santa -- where he was sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, waiting. The silvered glass balls on the big Christmas tree in the corner sparkled in the darkness.

At the sound of the door opening, Santa turned around, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Well, Jerry! Ho ho ho! I've been looking forward to seeing you again."
Two elves, each gripping Jerry by one arm, held him in a standing position in front of Santa. Santa ran his hand up and down Jerry's side, then reached behind and squeezed his meaty glutes.
"Think there's room for you in here, Jerry?"
Santa pulled Jerry up against his enormous, belly and gripped him with his knees. All Jerry could think about was that deep water fish that swallows other fish bigger than itself -- the whole thing, folding it up inside its belly as it expands however big it needs to be.

Jerry wanted to struggle, even though it wouldn't have done him any good. But when Santa stared him in the face with those twinkling eyes of his, Jerry was paralyzed.

Santa put one hand under Jerry's chin and pushed his head back and to the side, stretching Jerry's smooth, white throat -- blanched by weeks, months without sunshine -- even the black boys were nearly as white as paper now.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jerry could see a pair of ruddy cheeks and a long, white beard moving closer to him -- and an open mouth with long, pointy teeth sharper than any of the other elves'.

After hearing another

"Ho, ho, ho!"
Jerry felt Santa's teeth sink into his throat and his blood gushing into Santa's mouth like water gushing from a garden hose. Some of it landed on Santa's tunic.
"Oh don't worry, Jerry -- blood's red. Why do you think Santa wears red in the first place?"
As the Jerry's blood stopped gushing so much, Santa stood up while steadying Jerry so he didn't topple over. He grabbed Jerry's shoulders with a strength belied by his pudgy looks and lifted him overhead, flipping Jerry's legs over his shoulders and sucking out more blood as it drained to the lowest point -- Jerry's chest and neck.

Jerry had witnessed too many impossible events during his stay in the magic castle to even notice he should have been dead by now -- with nearly all his blood drained.

Santa licked his lips, and grinned,

"Jerry, it wasn't nice to spy on Santa. Now you know what he has for naughty boys, don't you? Especially nice big boys, like you."
Santa turned Jerry's head toward the fireplace where a pile of charcoal was glowing in the hearth.
"A lump of coal. That's what bad boys get."
The elves took Jerry and laid him on his belly on the stone floor. Soon Jerry felt something long and metal being stuck through the ropes tying his ankles together and then pushed up between his legs until it bumped against his ass-hole.

With a slight shove and fingers pulling his glutes apart, the elves worked the rod past the sphincter and into the colon. Twisting the rod, the elves worked it up through Jerry's body. Since the elves would be glad to eat the guts, there wasn't any need to remove them before cooking -- and they would add flavor to the other meat.

Soon Jerry felt the rod being pushed up through his chest -- pushing his stomach then heart and lungs to the side, finally poking through his gullet and up his throat.

The elves jerked Jerry's head back. One ripped the gag out of his mouth and another twisted Jerry's head side to side as the other elves gave the rod another push. It didn't want to push anymore but the elves kept pushing. Suddenly it slipped and rammed into the back of Jerry's front teeth, breaking them out.

Now there were elves at Jerry's head and at his butt shoving and pulling till the rod chittered past the guts and stuff inside trying to hold on tight.

Once the rod had been pulled all the way through, the elves stretched Jerry's hands forward -- still tied together with that magic rope -- all the way, spreading Jerry's body-builder back wide, flaring his lats all the way.

The elves lifted him up and placed him over the burning coals in the fireplace where they rotated him slowly, allowing him to roast evenly on all sides.

Soon Jerry's body was glistening with perspiration -- and as body juices. The elves basted him continually with the marinade he'd been soaking in earlier on.

Finally, Jerry's meat was so tender his flesh was ready to fall off the bone. Somehow he was still alive -- feeling everything though through a fog now with his brain half cooked.

Still, Jerry could feel Santa grab one of his legs and twist it until it came loose at the hip socket. He cried as he watched Santa slurp his meat off his bones with all the relish of a half-starved dog -- wolfing and swallowing so quick Santa could probably taste nothing.

Jerry was so very sorry he ever believed in Santa Claus, praying to Jesus -- someone everyone else believed in. Jerry was sure Jesus existed too -- but he had to be better than Santa. Maybe he could save him if he prayed real hard.

Jerry prayed as hard as he could, now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, and if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Jerry wished he could pray better, but he believed with all the strength he could muster it wasn't the words but what was in his heart. He just hoped his heart was pure enough.

Santa kept twisting off body parts -- all the legs and arms now gone, down Santa's gullet, bulging his big belly -- grabbing a hunk of Jerry's right glute and twisting it off, shoving it at his mouth like a large piece of cake, munching and gulping, his throat swelling wide as great chunks of meat slid down into Santa's belly.

Santa tossed the bones to the elves who cracked them open with their teeth and sucked out the marrow. Then when all that was left was Jerry's head, Santa jerked it off the pole, tearing his bottom jaw off. a couple elves scrambled for the jaw and throat as Santa tossed the rest of the head into the room. Elves scampered and pounced and the last thing Jerry saw were piranha teeth snipping everything off his head. Then there was nothing.


Jerry startled awake screaming. He was in his bed at home. It was Christmas Day. His mother and father came running to find Jerry cowering under his bed. He was too big to crawl under it so two of the feet were off the floor.

It took them a while to coax Jerry out. He wouldn't open his presents. He didn't want to have anything to do with Christmas.


Jerry's been in the hospital for a while now. He believes his dream -- it was so real. He's convinced somehow by magic it all happened -- and Santa did return him -- but only after eating him all up. Jerry's also convinced that if he ever sees Santa again, Santa might take him back and do it all over again.

It's called the myth of the eternal return. It's one of the oldest, most basic beliefs people have. Something happening over and over and over again. Never ending. Now we know why we try so hard to repress it -- repress the truth.