Secret Santa

by michaelcahill

I know the snow is red because of me. The expanse of red snow puzzles me. It seems like that much red snow would mean there's a dead body nearby. I am contemplating the snow- therefore I'm not dead. This is more or less what Rene Descartes put forth: I bleed, therefore, I am.

I'd like to say I cleverly feigned death to stave off that final leave-no-doubt-shot those one-moan-too-manys seem to invite. I lay there looking dead as hell. I didn't make a sound and I didn't move a muscle. I was conscious. I could hear and see, well if I had opened my eyes that is. As far as I was concerned, I was dead or soon to be. I wasn't feigning anything. Being clever didn't cross my mind.

Cleverness isn't crossing my mind now, either. Surprise... Surprise would cover the extent of my current thought process. I gaze around the area at the beauty that surrounds me… a beautiful pine forest adorning mountains that rise up heroically towards a sky that understands the true majesty of blue and celebrates it. Clouds glide thru on the slick surface polished by the goodwill of a million daydreams. Well, all of these dead bodies certainly spoil the ambiance of my little poetic take on the scenery.

Murder At the North Pole. The Santa Claus Massacre. The Psychotic Elf. Book titles start involuntarily occurring to me. I'm not at the real North Pole, but this outpost has served as a reasonable facsimile for decades. Children have been coming to Santa's Village since the forties to pet reindeer and sit on Santa's lap. It's a fun job especially during the holiday season and a good cover if one has a need for a good cover.

There could only be one reason to kill all of these innocent people. They had to know I was here. But, they must not have known which one was me.

I know this, if I don't find care soon, I'll be joining the dead.

They destroyed or confiscated all communication devices. They did miss one, however. I tap a switch behind my ear triggering a rescue. I will be on my way to medical care in less than five minutes.

They'd be pissed if they knew they killed everyone but Agent Angelique Rose. Soon, they will be sorry as well.

~~~~~~~~~Officers on scene, Santa's Village

"Samuelson!" Sergeant Flannery looked at the wide expanse of blood.

"What is it, Sarge?"

"Notice anything strange about all this blood here?"

"Sir, there's no body."

"Very good. We've got a survivor who didn't bother hanging around."

"I'm on it, Sarge. A lot of blood… couldn't be far away."

"Yeah. I have a feeling we won't find anything. But, who knows, get on it then." Hmm. No prints leading away… a rescue then… or… or what? He bent over and picked something up. It was a hair beret. "Samuelson."

"Yeah, Sarge."

"You're looking for a female." A damn tough one.

Write A Review

The First Page writing prompt entry

Writing Prompt
If you decided to start writing a novel, what would the first pages look like ? Details in the announcement.