Here Comes Santa Claus

The bells are what woke me, jingling in the dark like a predator circling its prey. My eyes snapped open, and before I could reach for the light, they were there—thin, gaunt figures hovering at the foot of my bed. Their bodies and limbs were unnaturally long, their faces smeared with soot and their skin was stretched thin over hollow, sunken eyes. They moved like smoke, binding me with thick, frayed cords before I could scream. The last thing I saw was the dark mouth of the chimney as they hauled me upward, the rough stone scraping my head before everything went black. When I woke, the air was damp and cold, reeking of iron and mildew. I was strapped to a metal slab. Beside me, a man just as large as me thrashed weakly on his own table, his eyes bulging in terror. To my right, a heavier-set woman sobbed into her gag, her body shaking as the room filled with wet, sucking sounds. The searing fire in my gut pulled my attention downward, and I gasped, craning my neck to see a thick rubber tube writhing beneath my skin like a parasite, draining me. The creatures moved around me, pressing into my folds as they guided the pipeline further up my body. My eyes followed the conduit as it snaked above us, weaving through dozens of others, each carrying a stream of thick, yellow gelatinous grease, dumping it into a suspended glass globe, like a grotesque ornament. From the bottom of the globe, a hose branched off, winding its way toward another table at the center of all of us. Draped over a nearby chair and next to a pair of large brown leather boots-a red coat, pants and a crimson sash. The hose split into smaller tubes tipped with large needles, each plunged deep into the body of a man on the gurney. His flesh and belly jiggled like jelly as the injections pumped our stolen oils into him.