The snow was glowing on the streets that night. Andrew was trying to build a snowman, but his attempt didn't seem to have the results he wanted. The snowman's eyes seemed to look in different directions, his carrot nose was almost broken and his hands were turning towards unusual angles.

"Andie, come in, please!" his mother shouted from the threshold.

"Just a second, Mom!"

It was the first Christmas after his father's passing, and the least he could do was keep up with their annual routine. Building snowmen, riding his sleigh, getting cookies and milk for Santa. Even if he knew that Santa wasn't real.
He was nine years old. Old enough to know it was his dad who had dressed up as Santa and bought Andrew his present.
He wasn't a kid anymore. He knew that magic didn't exist.

In a last attempt to make his snowman look decent, Andrew pushed the carrot with so much force, the vegetable broke in half.

"That's unfortunate," a voice echoed from the other side of the street.

Andrew turned around and came face to face with a tall, fat man with white hair and beard. He was wearing a red costume and black boots.

"Isn't it a bit early for you to appear, Santa?" Andrew asked, giving emphasis in that last word.

"I have to check who's been naughty or nice."

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. I'll be put in the naughty list." Andrew made a few steps backwards, towards his home.

"Wise move, young man. I'll definitely take that into account!" Santa replied. "I guess I'll see you around."
he went on and started walking down the street, until Andrew couldn't see him anymore.

It was freezing outside. Andrew started moving fast towards the house. He accepted his piece of art was not as successful as he was expecting it to be. But he had almost two weeks to perfect his snowman.
As he was thinking of his play schedule for the next day, a shrill sounded and Andrew spun around. There was a piece of paper lying in front of his toes.

Have yourselves a scary, little Christmas!

Andrew read the message again and again. He looked around but there was no one to be seen. However, he felt something like a knot in his stomach. The little boy tore the paper in little pieces and threw it in the dumpster. He moved as fast as he could inside the house. He didn't want to push his mother's patience.

"What were you doing, Andie? It's way past your bedtime!" his mother said the moment he stepped his foot inside the house.

"I was trying to perfect my snowman." He tried to cover his anxiety and started playing with his fingers.

"At that hour? You have the entire holidays to make it," his mother scolded. "Now, go brush your teeth and straight to bed."

Andrew stepped towards the staircase and then turned around. "Mom? Do you think Santa would send a note to all those children who have been naughty during the year?"

"What a funny idea. I don't know, son. What I do know is that you will be put on Santa's naughty list if you won't go to sleep right that instant."

Andrew ran towards her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Moments later, he was walked up the staircase to the first floor, towards his bedroom.
The door and the window were open. Cold air covered the entire room. Andrew closed the window. Feeling woozy and sleepy, he jumped into bed, and found another note lying on his pillow.
With shaky hands, he unfolded it.

Bells are ringing, children screaming. All is scary and white.

The little boy screamed and ran outside his bedroom. He fell on his mother and burst into tears. His whole body was shaking, tears covered his entire face.

"Andie? Baby, what is it?"

"There was someone inside my bedroom. The window was open when I came up."

"What are you talking about, dear? That's not possible. There was no one in your room." Andrew's mother tried to soothe him.

"I swear there was! They left a note on my bed."

"Andie? Are you goofing around again? Are you trying to scare me?" his mother scolded. But Andrew's eyes were red and he was still shaking.

"Okay, let's go together in your bedroom. I promise, there's nobody there."
His mother practically dragged him to his bedroom, since Andrew had almost frozen where he was standing.

"See? There's no one here," his mother said, looking around at the empty room.

"I swear there was! Just look at the note!" Andrew said and pointed his hand towards his bed.
His mother reached out and took the note. An instant later, her face transformed into a mask of pure terror.

Trying not to show her fear and to convince herself that somebody was playing practical jokes, she decided not to call the police. However, she turned the house alarm on and locked all the doors and windows. She wouldn't risk her own son's safety.

She knew this day would come eventually. She also knew that she would fight to keep Andrew safe and sound; with his family—with her. After her husband's passing, she had not given much thought to how she would deal with the one she had made a deal with all those years ago.
But the time had come to face the consequences of her choices and actions.

***

Andrew's dreams were full of color that night. Shades of red made circles around him, covering him from head to toe. Only when he paid more attention to the color, did he realize it was blood. Thick, vivid red blood.

"Mom!" Andrew screamed, covered in sweat.
In an instant, his mother was sitting right next to him.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm here. I will always be here," she whispered and kissed the little boy's forehead.

It was still dark outside. Still, a little light from passing cars came inside the room. Andrew could see, and even better, feel his mother's fear. He knew something was not right. Suddenly, something like a shadow appeared outside the window.

"What was that?" Andrew whispered as a shiver ran down his spine.

"What was what?"

"There was a shadow outside the window."

Andrew's mother felt the tension covering her from head to toe. "There's no one out, baby. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake in the morning." she said and kissed Andrew one last time.

Although Andrew was still feeling nervous, he rested his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. He trusted his mother completely.

***

Andrew's mother crept down the stairs and stepped outside the house. They would be waiting for her to pay the price. Ten years of happiness for the boy who would become the next ruler of their clan.

She didn't have to wait long. A few feet away, a tall, blonde woman was standing next to an old, fat man, dressed like Santa.

"I can see you're as punctual as ever," Andrew's mother whispered, knowing they could hear her perfectly well.

"We came to claim what is ours," the blonde woman said. Both her and the fake Santa approached Andrew's mother.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play stupid, Barbara. We had a deal," the fake Santa murmured. "I saw your son. He's ready to come with us. He's able to read the signs after all those years."

"I won't let you take him away, Santa. This is my son we're talking about!"

"You don't have a choice. Let him embrace his destiny," the blonde woman said.

"What destiny? Turning him into one of you? Killing people? This is his destiny?" Barbara snarled.

"He has always been one of us. At least, from my side," the fake Santa said. "You always thought that your husband was Andrew's father, but I was also his father."

"What the hell are you talking about, Lucious?" Andrew's mother said, staring deep into the fake Santa's eyes.

Lucious took off the red hat, the white beard and the uniform of Santa Claus. The essence of Christmas and Santa faded, and a young man stood in front of Barbara. A young man who, when he smiled, showed his long fangs and terrified Andrew's mother, even if she already knew what Lucious and the blonde woman were; werewolves.

"I'm talking about the change I made to your husband, to make sure Andrew will be one of us," Lucious replied. "We're not like vampires, with manipulation and mind control. So I turned him to pass the gene onto Andrew, otherwise you wouldn't have got pregnant."
He looked at Barbara's puzzled eyes. But then, every little piece of the puzzle slotted into place. Her husband's detestation of silver, the fact he disappeared on business trips pretty much every full moon, his strange illness...

"Monster! Go to hell!" she screamed.

"Oh, we're already there, dear," the blonde woman said.

"I won't let you destroy my son!" Barbara shouted and straightened her back, ready to fight if necessary. She knew she didn't stand a chance against them, but she wouldn't let them take her son just like that.

"Barbara... Think of it as a promotion. It was either you or your son. Your son was simply the chosen one. You both have the gift, but once I saw that you and your husband were in desperate need of a child, it was as if a golden opportunity had appeared. I need an Alpha to replace me one day. I can find a mate every day, but not a new leader," Lucious said.

"I won't let you!" Andrew's mother whispered, with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, but you will," Lucious replied. "Enough with the talking." He looked at the blonde one. "Lauren?"

"It'll be quick, Barbie. I'll just jingle the hell out of you!" Lauren murmured and revealed her fangs too.

***

Andrew woke up the next morning. Everything seemed too quiet in the house. It was almost ten. His mother never let him sleep that much.

The little boy jumped out of his bed and ran downstairs. There was nobody inside the house. Not a single clue of where his mother would have gone.
He opened the front door and looked around at their porch. He caught a movement in his peripheral vision at the right side of the yard. He took a few steps towards that direction. A little piece of paper was lying down, yet again.

Kill me under the mistletoe!

Andrew started screaming.
"Calm down, son. Everything is fine. I'm here," his mother said, appearing out of nowhere.

Andrew looked at her, relieved that she was with him, and ran to embrace her. The little boy was too shocked to see last night's Santa Claus coming towards them and the tears in his mother's eyes.

© Victoria Moschou. All Rights Reserved 2016-2017.