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Santa stared at the reinforced bunker down the cellar stairs. Chains lined the walls, ending in thick metal cuffs. Sighing, the fat man slid the riveted, vault door closed.

"You shouldn't, Nick," his wife said, standing behind him. "There will be other years."

"Tell that to all the children for whom this is their last Christmas to believe. Tell that to all the children who will receive nothing if I don't go."

Martha placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "It's too dangerous."

St. Nick smiled down at his lovely wife, his chubby cheeks bright red. "It will be okay. I have this," he said, hefting a small, brown bag. "Rudolph will keep us below the clouds. We'll be on the other side of the earth for half of it. I trust my team with my life."

Martha looked out the window, gazing up at the cloudy sky. Even at the North Pole, she could make out the full moon cresting the distant horizon. "It's not _your_life I'm worried about."

* * * * *

Megan couldn't sleep. The seven-year-old had never really understood Christmas until that very year. Before, she had just been happy to receive presents, but now she realized how much more important it was. Santa gave presents to all the children of the world, even those that were poor, hungry, or alone. Megan could survive in her picket-fenced home in the country just fine without presents, but all those other children really must _depend_on Santa's gifts.

This year, she'd asked for all her presents to be given to the local homeless shelter, and for cows and water buffalos to be given to poor people in Asia. So, she wasn't dreaming of sugar plums, or all the great presents she'd get to play with. Instead, she wanted to see Santa Claus and thank him for what he was doing.

She crept out of bed at nearly two in the morning, checking on the cookies she'd laid out for him. They were still there. As sleepy as the young girl was, she was too excited to yawn. She waited there by the chimney, crouched behind the chair in case Santa could tell that she was waiting for him.

She didn't know how long she waited, but it wasn't a jolly fat man sliding down the chimney that caught her attention, but rather the loud _CRASH!_in the backyard. Startled, Megan jumped up from her chair. "Mom!? Dad!?" she yelled, hoping to wake them up. She knew it wasn't likely - both of them wore custom-fit earplugs to block the others' snoring.

Running to the backdoor, Megan's eyes went wide as she watched a sled which had apparently just crashed through their fence skid to a stop. Not just any sled - Santa's sleigh. There was no mistaking it - the sleigh was drawn by nine deer, moving faster than it ever had a right to. The lead deer's nose glowed a bright red, and scrambling around in the back of the sled was a large man in white and red.

Megan should have been delighted, but no one else was. She grimaced, watching as Santa Claus scrambled around his sled, obviously looking for something. "I can't find it!" he groaned, though it sounded almost like a growl.

Rudolph, eyes wide, yelled, "We have to get him inside! Dasher, kick the release!"

"I can't!" the grey reindeer at the front of the sleigh yelped. "It's stuck!" Sure enough, the front of the sleigh had been mangled in the crash landing.

"Blitzen," Rudolph ordered, glancing back to the dark brown reindeer behind him. "You have to try to undo my manual release."

"We don't have time," screamed Blitzen. Her voice was much higher pitched - funny, Megan had always thought Blitzen was a guy. Though, looking at Blitzen's wide, swollen belly, there was no doubt. She looked almost ready to give birth. "He's almost done changing!"

Rudolph bleated, kicking and squirming in his harness like the others. They were all strapped in too tight. Voice low and trembling, he begged Blitzen, "Free yourself and run. Don't let him harm our baby!"

Tears formed in her eyes as she cried, "I can't...!"

Santa, all this time, was frantically searching the sled, but more than that, he was crying out in pain and anger. Megan couldn't just watch anymore. She ran outside, the door swinging shut with a loud_slam!_"Santa!" the confused seven-year-old called out.

Old St. Nick didn't have time to listen to Megan. "Where is it!?" he yelled, holding up his hands. But they weren't hands anymore. They had grown longer, and bony, giant claws stretching out from his fingernails as short, dark brown fur began to sprout around him.

One of the middle reindeer, another female, yelled at Megan, "Run, girl, run! While he's changed, our magic's go -"

Sure enough, as Santa arched his back, his shirt ripped in half, exposing a decidedly muscular back. His red cap fell to the ground, his face distorted, longer, his nose flat and black. Most disturbingly, his teeth stretched out into sharp, interlocking canines, fully visible as the old man snarled.

Megan gasped. Werewolves weren't real!

Now the young girl saw why the reindeer had stopped mid-sentence. A quick glance at Rudolph revealed that his nose was just as black and dim as anyone else's. Dasher no longer kicked at the damaged release. None of the reindeer leapt as if they could fly. As far as the girl could tell, they were just normal, dumb animals.

Howling, the wolf that had once been Santa Claus tore the shattered remains of his outfit off his body, stepping to his full height. He wasn't fat any longer, but stood seven feet, covered his nearly black fur, muscles rippling. He moved with a slow, smooth sort of grace, sniffing the air. Megan was frozen in place, having no idea what to do.

Finally, his eyes focused on the frightened, bleating ungulates in front of him. He curled his lip up in a fierce growl, and like _that_he was on Dasher. He landed heavily on the squealing reindeer's back, claws digging into Dasher's sides. Santa balanced himself on Dasher's back, blood dripping down the poor deer's sides. Megan screamed as Santa wrapped his teeth around the back of Dasher's neck, the gleaming daggers ready to sink in for the killing bite.

But he didn't bite. Something seemed to catch the werewolf's eyes, and Megan followed his gaze to the reindeer in front of Dasher, the one who'd told the little girl to run. Megan's mind raced through the names of Santa's reindeer to make a guess, and finally settled on Vixen. Letting go of Dasher's neck, the wolf extended his snout, _snuffling_noisily beneath Vixen's tail.

For her part, Vixen was squealing and kicking her legs, trying to jar herself loose from the straps that held her in place. Megan watched as Santa extended his long, pink tongue and licked a small, pink spot that stood out against her white rump. Santa howled, something about the scent or taste changing his mood.

Still balanced on Dasher, the werewolf slid back until his long, canine hind legs touched the ground, his belly pressed up against the reindeer's rump. Dasher was bellowing, eyes wide with fear, heat radiating off of him in the snowy night. But nothing could prepare the animal for Santa's next move. With a grunt, Santa slammed_his hips against the young reindeer. Dasher arched his neck up and_bleated, his body trembling.

Megan screamed. She was frozen in place, watching as Santa dug his claws into Dasher's scarred hide, the massive canine bouncing back and forth against him. At least the werewolf wasn't tearing Dasher to rips and shreds, but whatever he was doing didn't sit well with Dasher. Dasher bucked, and squirmed, and squealed, eyes rolling in his head as Santa pounded him mercilessly.

Panting, the monster reached forward and took the back of Dasher's neck in his teeth once more, tugging back on the reindeer with his bulging muscles. Again and again, Dasher was dragged backwards to meet Santa, until Nick howled, his hips flush and stuck with Dasher. Blood was streaming down Dasher's neck while the werewolf held himself deep inside, shuddering.

Crunch!

Santa's jaws snapped_shut, crushing the reindeer's neck. Dasher squealed wordlessly now, his windpipe severed, blood gushing into the snow beneath him. While he twitched and fell, Santa _howled, muzzle drenched in blood, his knot still lifting the dying reindeer's rump off the ground. The werewolf's balls clenched, staining his prey, even as the life drained from his eyes.

When he was done with Dasher, Santa grunted, placed his powerful paws on Dasher's rump, and pushed. At first, they seemed stuck, but with a loud riiiip, Dasher _popped_off of Santa. Megan could see now what must have happened - between the werewolf's legs stood a bright, red staff, pulled forcibly from the reindeer's butt.

Leaving Dasher motionless in a heap, Santa went straight for Vixen. She bleated frantically, unable to escape the harness. She was as helpless as the rest of them. Megan couldn't watch, but she couldn't take Vixen's advice either. She collapsed in the snow, eyes locked and horrified as Santa took up position behind the female reindeer. Megan knew better what to expect now, as the werewolf grabbed Vixen's tail and held it aloft, lining up his weird, red penis - not with her butt, but with the little spot a bit lower. Her_vagina,_Megan realized, though it was a lot higher up than she'd expected.

"_Blaaaaaaaaarhhh!"_Vixen squealed, her feminine voice now just a low, animalistic bleat. Santa stuffed her almost all the way in one violent thrust, stopping at the base. Megan saw that the base of his penis was a big, swollen bulb, stuck outside, but Santa seemed determined to wedge it in.

Each hump sent the smaller female flying, her hind legs lifted from the ground beneath Santa's onslaught. He reached forward and grabbed her like he had Dasher, raking her flanks as he tugged her backwards. While Santa had his way with the young doe, the other reindeer kicked and bucked, rubbing their fur raw as they tried to get free of their bonds. None of them thought twice about the manual release just in front of them. Their chests heaved, and to Megan it looked like some might die of fright.

They were right to be afraid. Santa ploughed again and again into the trembling doe, slamming his knot deeper and deeper into her battered vagina. She cried out repeatedly until her voice was raw, shuddering when she felt Santa's teeth bury into her neck. Even just an animal, she knew that Santa was almost through with her.

Growling through his teeth, Santa sunk all the way into her, puffing out her parts into an unnatural, fleshy bulb. Vixen squirmed, helplessly, while Santa groaned and humped in short, sharp bursts. Digging his claws deep into Vixen's ribs, Santa once again bit down, crumpling Vixen's neck until her head hung unnaturally.

Megan watched with tears in her eyes, frozen in disbelief at the gruesome scene before her. How could this be happening? And in _her_backyard!? But happen, it did. After ten or fifteen seconds of panting, the exhausted werewolf dug his claws into Vixen's rump and ripped her off of him, just like he had Dasher. A loud _pop!_rang out, and suddenly, Megan saw a flood of milk pour out of her. Only, it was thicker than milk, and steaming hot, judging by the melting snow where it splattered the ground. Santa's penis was coated in the stuff.

Tired or not, the werewolf wasn't done yet. One after another, Santa raped his reindeer, leaving them bloody, broken, and dying, held up only by the harnesses that had doomed them. Megan didn't know which names went with which reindeer, but by the time Santa reached the front, by the process of elimination she could say for certain: Dasher, Vixen, Cupid, Comet, Prancer, Dancer and Donner were lying limply in their bloody harnesses, eyes wide and cold.

Only Blitzen and Rudolph were left, but Santa showed no signs of tiring.

When Santa climbed in behind Blitzen, Rudolph went crazy. Kicking and bleating, the reindeer tried frantically to free himself from his bonds. Did he somehow remember that Blitzen was filled with his fawn? Santa made no exceptions for the expectant mother, grabbing her hind legs about the joint and spreading her apart. Blitzen tried to kick the werewolf to no avail, helpless in his grasp. Nosing down below her tail, Santa took a long, slow lick of the gravid doe's vagina, as if savoring the moment while Rudolph looked on with wide, terrified eyes.

Reaching beneath the doe with one arm, he brushed past her swollen udder, heavy with milk for the soon-to-be fawn. Rubbing Blitzen's low-hanging belly, Santa licked his lips, as if fully aware of her situation. Grinning, the werewolf stood up behind her just like all the others, and lined up his staff with her trembling spot. Blitzen shrieked as he violated her too, and Rudolph's deep, vibrating_bleat_echoed too. If the neighbors hadn't been two miles away, someone would have heard by now.

He treated the pregnant doe no differently than the others, hammering forward with all his strength, his fat knot still throbbing since Dasher. Blitzen bellowed, and Rudolph kicked. He seemed almost more distraught than _she_did. Each violent penetration speared the reindeer, shoving her roughly against her leather harness. Resting his bulk on the doe's back, Santa Claus wrapped his paws around her barrel, grabbing her by the short fur on her belly. Her youthful mate looked on, trembling.

Megan had simply sat and watched in horror as Santa worked his way through the other reindeer. Kill after kill, she had stood by, feeling helpless, even as the minutes ticked by. Why hadn't she _done_something - help, run, scream - in the last twenty minutes? The best answer she could give was that when Santa was involved, time really did fly.Still, she couldn't just sit by and watch him abuse one that was in fawn. But how could a seven-year-old girl stop a werewolf? She didn't have any silver bullets, much less a gun to stop him. The full moon blazed above, with no sign of clouds to save the day. Maybe if she covered him with a tarp? The girl took one glance at her parent's boat, the rain cover still tied tightly, and took off.

Meanwhile, Santa was getting closer and closer to shattering another doe's long, slender vagina. She bleated desperately as he stuffed his knot deeper and deeper, spreading her small pink teardrop wider and wider. Santa pulled back on her as well, tearing gashes in her stomach. This time, however, he wrapped his teeth between Blitzen's shoulder blades.

"Come on, come on!" Megan gasped, trying to untie the canvas.

She was too late. The werewolf tired of Blitzen, reaming her wide with a grunt and a thrust, burying the knot inside of her. Bulging with fawn and cock now, Blitzen shuddered and squealed, the first wave of bubbling fluid blanketing her insides. She suffered beneath his onslaught, taking everything Santa gave her and more, her sides and back dripping with blood. While Rudolph watched on, whimpering, Santa _crunched_down around Blitzen's backbone, bone breaking and shattering as he severed her shoulders and her spine. Blood covered her now, her own and that of her fellow reindeer.

As if that weren't enough, Santa, still grunting and squeezing, tore and shredded Blitzen's belly, reaching up and in as if to show Rudolph that there was no chance of the fawn surviving.

Megan was untying the second to last rope when the old man finished with her, tearing himself free of her now-gaping hole to leave Blitzen dead before she hit the ground.

Megan could only watch as Santa went for the final reindeer, Rudolph himself. He was trembling, but did not try to bleat or flee, his wide eyes frozen in shock and fear. He knew what was going to happen, and Megan would be too late to stop all of it. Santa, fresh from slaughtering his mate, climbed on top of the young reindeer. As Megan freed the final rope, she heard a loud, cervine scream, and she knew Santa was in him.

Running toward the pair, she winced as Santa pounded Rudolph's butt, tearing into his soft flesh. Claws dug into him, Santa's right paw sliding up to grip the front of Rudolph's throat. Megan trembled - she had to stop him!

Perhaps it was a good thing that she arrived a few seconds late - Santa buried his knot into the thrashing reindeer, stuck inside Rudolph. This gave Megan the perfect chance to toss her canvas over Santa's back, blocking the blue-white rays from the full moon overhead.

Beneath the curtain, Santa growled, and Megan watched his claws shred the canvas. Two vicious claws tore the bag open, and the werewolf burst back into view, unharmed. Megan collapsed on the ground, all hope drained from her. She couldn't stop him either.

She barely registered as Old St. Nick kept at it, ravaging Rudolph's soft tunnel. Rudolph squealed like all the others when the werewolf buried his bone, dominating the lead buck. Megan saw Rudolph's eyes as Santa tightened his grip on the reindeer's neck. She saw...relief. Claws eviscerated Rudolph's throat, leaving him wordless and gasping for breath, his lifeblood draining out in spurts onto the snow. His body quivered beneath the monster, which only seemed to excite the beast more. He spent a good thirty seconds riding out Rudolph's dying thrashes, white fluid spilling out of the buck in torrents.

With a loud pop!, Santa pulled free, panting, the ninth and last deer dead in a bloody pool.

"Santa, no..." Megan whimpered, though it was far too late to reason with him.

Now, the wolf's eyes turned to her, glowing red in the moonlight.

Only now did Megan realize how much danger she was in. Staggering forward, the exhausted wolf stepped toward the seven-year-old, his penis still throbbing. Megan took a slow step back, afraid to run, knowing that she'd never outrun the demon. She shivered as Santa licked his bloody lips, eyes fixed on his new prey, his pace quickening. Soon, he was in an all out run.

Megan did the only thing she could think of. She grabbed the first thing she could find and threw it at the wolf. The snowball bounced harmlessly off Santa's shoulder. He was one second away, and Megan grabbed for a stone.

It wasn't a stone. It was a soft, brown bag. She tried to throw it anyway, but she was too late. Even as it left her hand, the werewolf snapped, narrowly missing her outstretched hand. Instead, he tore into the bag, and screamed.

Santa stopped in a split second, changing from his deadly charge to writhe and thrash, clawing at his muzzle. Blood poured down his muzzle, his own this time, and he coughed and spat the contents of the bag onto the dirty snow. Megan leapt back just in time to avoid Santa's falling body, only to realize that he was finally changing back! His clothes had long since been shredded, leaving the hefty figure naked in the snow, still groaning and kicking in pain.

Soon, Megan was crouching next to Santa. "Santa! Santa, are you okay!?"

"Wolfsbane..." he gasped, looking at the ruined remains of his brown bag. "Thrown clear when we hit the fence."

Tears came unbidden to the little girl's eyes. "Santa, you...you..."

He closed his eyes so tightly all she could see were wrinkles, and said, "I know. You saved me, and I cannot thank you enough, young Megan, but I fear nothing can undo what I've done. Martha was right...

"Megan, what have I done?

What could she say?

Santa turned to look at his handiwork. There was no denying it. "They're dead...they're all dead," he wept, tears mixing with the blood on his face to stain the snow beneath him. "Oh, Rudolph..." he sobbed.

Megan watched on, the horror of what happened still sinking in.

"And with Blitzen so close to fawning...I'm so sorry old friend." He staggered to Blitzen, who still twitched where she lay, her back broken and bleeding. She was perhaps the worst off of all of them, fallen on her side, bleeding from every angle. Her stomach was sliced open wide, dark black blood gushing onto the snow. Unlike the others, Santa had left her head and neck mostly intact. She looked almost peaceful, lying there expressionlessly.

Megan saw the doe twitch again, but something was odd about it. "Santa..." she said, slowly.

"What?"

"Look!" the girl said, pointing at Blitzen.

Now Santa saw it too, Blitzen's belly heaving all on its own. "Good God," Santa cried, crouching next to the dead doe. As if his hands weren't bloody enough, he reached up and into the deer's abdomen. "There!" he cried, grabbing and pulling.

Pulled straight from her bloody womb, the little fawn was dragged onto the red snow, bleating and shivering in the cold Though he was covered in blood, a quick inspection lead Santa to announce, "She's alive!"

Megan watching in awe as the miracle fawn climbed to her wobbly legs. "Oh, thank God," the girl wept, the smallest relief feeling like a mountain after what she'd just been through. Then, as if on cue, the little deer's nose lit up, glowing red like a candle.

Santa wept, hugging the orphaned fawn and holding her close "Red," he named her. "We need to get Red out of here, and I have to get somewhere safe. The wolfsbane won't last forever!"

Megan said, "My basement!"

"Don't open the basement door, no matter what I saw, dear girl. Not until the morning. You'll need to keep Red with you. Please...keep her safe. I owe her far, far more than that."

With that, the bloody, naked man rushed toward the house, clutching the few leaves left.

Megan glanced at Red, who was too young to fully comprehend the carnage in her backyard. "Come on, Red," the girl said. "Let's get you a bath, okay?"

Megan finally did fall asleep that night, still clutching the fawn. She didn't wake up until she heard her mother scream.

"What happened in the backyard!?"