For Freedom

Rocco Cinnamonsticks quickly dove into the snow. Whew...So close...Almost. Almost that old oaf saw me.

Three years ago, he ran away from Santa’s workshop. He wanted to escape the slavery, the constant joy, the constant making of gifts for kids that they didn’t even know, checking the gift lists...

But, every single year, right around December, those memories resurfaced, because he couldn’t seem to escape the spirit of Christmas...or the spirit of Santa.

Now, it was December 20. Yes, he was cutting it very close, but his plans wouldn’t work out any other way. It had to be December 20, five days before Christmas...

Mrs. Claus quickly finished setting the table. She frowned lightly, and adjusted her cap. Now...if only nothing goes wrong tonight...

Dressed in red and white, she sure looked like the wife of the jolly, fat man. But, resting between her breasts, hidden under her outfit, there clung a golden ring to her skin.

It was not a ring given to her by old Nick, oh no. It was the ring of the one man she loved more than anybody else in the world. The one man that made her feel like a woman again.

It might be good to point out that Santa and Mrs. Claus have been in existence for many years. Yet, they do not grow old. And it is why we find Mrs. Claus with lightly graying hair, but still with a youthful face.

She quickly stepped into the master bedroom, her eyes not even taking in her surroundings, only the small jewelry box on her mahogany vanity. Her eyes stayed glued on this box, and soon she lifted the lid, fastening her gaze on the special set of jewels.

Beaming up to her, the emerald-studded necklace shone. In the middle of it, lay the two large golden emerald-studded earrings. Shaking, she quickly clipped them in, and then clasped the necklace around her neck, allowing it to sink away, hiding underneath her red and white blouse.

Rocco tapped impatiently on the door. Come on, Ranger. You know I’m coming today. He shoved his hand through his black, curly hair, frowning even more when his hand hooked on to his pointy ear for a mere second. How he wished that he could be rid of these hideous things. It really made it difficult to blend in with the people. How fortunate that he was one of the taller elves; at least that helped him to blend into the modern world with some ease.

Finally, the door swung open and his mirror image stared back at him. Well, his twin brother.

“Rocco, plans have changed. Come in.” Ranger pulled his brother inside, securely bolting the door behind them. They faced each other. “Nick has decided to take the missus on a vacation this year. Well, not really a vacation. It’s mo-”

“Ranger, don’t take the long way around things. Spit it out.” Rocco said, much more calmly now.

“Nick is not in the factory anymore. He’s not with the reindeer anymore. He’s heading home. He’s going to take Holly and they’ll be leaving right after dinner. So...you have an hour...”

“Brother,” he started with a mischievous smile, “I will need a few things, if you please.”

“My dear Mrs. Claus, something smells marvelous.” Santa said as he entered the cozy kitchen. Stunned, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Holly was also left frozen, biting her lower lip, pondering her next move. Finally, she turned around slowly, flipping her shoulder-length black hair to the back.

“Thank you, Nick.” She said calmly, but the quivering of her nose gave away her uncertainty.

“H-h-oll-ly?!” He stuttered, taking a step backwards. “H-h-oww?”

“Easy, actually.” She said, slipping on her kitchen mits and lifting the pot from the fireplace, placing it on her kitchen table. “To impresss you, I decided to disguise my actual hair color. To appear older and more favourable to you. But, I never got rid of my natural hair color.”

“And now,” she continued, “I’m just tired of being older than I really am. I’m going back to my youthful self; the ever-youthful soul you turned me into when you married me. See...I’m immortal now.” She smiled evilly, her blue eyes steeling over.

“Now...Holly.” He warned, stepping closer. Then he noticed her slim shape. “When did you lose weight?” He asked, his mouth falling wide open, finally paying full attention to her.

The dark green dress clinging to her body, reaching down to sweep the floor. The wooly white shawl hugging her shoulders. An emerald necklace and earrings glistening maliciously at him.

“It all started the day I met the true love of my life.” She informed him haughtily, tilting her head upwards.

“And who might that be?” He asked sternly, coming to stand in front of her, slightly surprised at the heat being radiated from the fireplace. “The fire is too hot.” He added.

“I know that. I stoked it to be this hot.” She said and took a step backwards, her eyes scanning him warily.

“Who might be this true love of your life, Holly?”

“Rocco Cinnamonsticks...”

“ROCCO CINNAMONSTICKS?!!” He burst out laughing, folding his arms around his paunch. “My dear wife, that elf has left us long ago. You are waiting for somebody that will never return.”

“That is where you are wrong, dear old Nick.” The taunting voice echoed through the room.

“Rocco!” She cried joyfully, but stopped when she saw the warning look on his face. Santa turned around, his eyes growing big.

“Oh...Look who’s here...Tell me, Rocco,” and he glanced behind him, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take away Holly, kill you, and stop this horrid holiday that we have to go through each year.” He stated confidently, keeping his hands behind his back.

“Oh, really? May I ask how you are going to accomplish that feat?” Santa asked, seemingly amused.

“Look outside.” The answer came calmly.

Ranger took a deep breath, and then brought the match down. It ate at the short line.

At Rocco’s harsh “Holly!”, both fell to the ground, as the shot burst through the big kitchen window, fire crackers lighting up the room, being followed by the deafening noise.

The fat man stepped back among the chaos, and then fell backwards, hitting the kitchen table with force. As he sank to the ground, the pot was tipped over and fell on him, scalding his whole body.

Rocco chuckled dryly, jumping over the table, and grabbed Santa’s legs.

“Rocco, what on earth are you doing?” Holly screamed, where she still lay on the ground, covering her ears. Another round of fire crackers flew into the room, the chaos being renewed.

Under his breath, Rocco cursed, but slowly lifted Santa, dragging him towards the fireplace. A cracker flew past his head, momentarily disabling his hearing.

Biting his lip, he dropped down, and crawled to Santa’s head. He lifted his victim upwards, groaning as he fought against the bulk of man.

“For FREEDOM!!!” He yelled as he pushed Santa forwards and into the seething fire...