The clock struck twice and the hour of the Jolly man dressed in his red suit approached. Timmy rolled out of bed happily, some sweat trickling from his temples to his chin. It was a chilly night, however the radiators did their part and filled the rooms with heat. Unfazed by anything and brimming with the innocence of youth, Timmy clutched his beloved teddy bear in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Stealthily, he crept toward the staircase, using the wall as a shield, careful enough to not wake up the rest of the sleeping family. His eyes rose up as he let out a low yawn. His parents had decorated the staircase wall with frames and captured pictures showed them in dear moments – playgrounds, celebration tables, first or special days at school and more.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Timmy leaned over the railing and peeked behind it, his eyes met with a breathtaking sight that brought an immediate grin to his face. The family's Christmas tree stood proudly, a majestic 2-meter-tall conifer, casting a mesmerizing aura in the room. Its lush, dark green branches were adorned with golden glitter, elegant silver ribbons on each side, and an abundance of red and blue ornaments that sparkled against the tree's backdrop. But it was the apex of the tree that truly stole the show - a radiant star, pointy sharp with sun-like brilliance, outshining the surrounding lights, seemingly rendering them insignificant in comparison. Beneath the green beauty were carefully placed a few wrapped gifts with red and golden ribbons, plenty of candy in transparent bags and unwrapped toys with cards in their embraces. Around the fireplace, two rows of Christmas lights flickered and danced, creating a whimsical spectacle that always captivated Timmy's gaze. Two socks were hanging from the marble surface and another yet another frame capturing the image of a woman, a man and their two young boys, riding a teapot at a wonder-land festival.

Silently, Timmy sank to his knees and cautiously shuffled behind the couch, his small form navigating the dimly lit room, playing with his flashlight and anxiously waiting. The fireplace stood dormant, devoid of its warmth, emitting only occasional crackles as the logs dwindled into a pile of smoldering ashes. The wintry chill hung in the air, carrying the faint scent of burnt wood through the room. Amidst the flickering of the Christmas lights, an eerie silence settled, casting a serene yet haunting atmosphere. Leaning against the back of the couch, Timmy slowly hoisted himself upward, casting a curious gaze around the room. With a soft click, he ignited his flashlight, its beam cutting through the shadows, and clutched his teddy bear tightly against his chest, like a protective shield of all that was evil.

All at once, the room was filled with the rustling of fabric, and two feet emerged from the opening of the marble fireplace. The serene ambiance was suddenly interrupted by the gentle yet entrancing melody emanating from a small decorative gramophone, an antique relic cherished by the family. The tune of a young girl's voice, singing a soothing Christmas carol, accompanied by a low rhythmic drum beat. Timmy was mesmerized, contemplating how this ancient wooden and plastic device could still emit such music, knowing it wasn’t able before.

As Timmy diverted his attention back to the fireplace, expecting the familiar room, he was met with a startling sight. Instead of the usual living room backdrop, a smiling man with brown eyes and both his hands on the rim of the back of the couch, gazed back at him. Startled, Timmy pulled back, falling hard on his bottom, the flashlight slipping from his tiny hands and causing it to crack the glass on the front, the light dimming out whereas his cherished teddy bear tumbled beneath a nearby table. The man seated weirdly on the couch was exactly as Timmy's parents had described him - a man with a beard as white as snow, wearing spectacles, a red coat with white fur collar and cuffs, white-fur-cuffed red trousers, a red hat trimmed with white fur, a black leather belt and boots. Draped across his back was a massive round bag, presumably the very one Timmy's parents had spoken of, rumored to carry all the Christmas presents. The leathered rope around the red bag hummed as he squeezed it closer to lean down and take a good look at the boy.

The man unfolded the bag from his shoulder and allowed it to gently thud against the floor. He approached the young one, climbing over the couch with ease and rushing to his side. With a warm smile, he revealed a set of gleaming yellow teeth, his tongue curling on his saliva-dampened crevices underneath. "Are you okay, little one?" he inquired with a gentle tone. His cheeks rose an ember color and his eyes glimmered as if he was a different man than the one that had scared the boy not a long while ago. Timmy nodded positively to the question and gulped strongly.

"Santa?" Timmy whispered, his forehead now dripping harder with sweat. The man paused, seemingly pondering for a moment, as if he had forgotten who he was. A couple of seconds later he straightened up, a proud gleam in his eye as he confidently affirmed, "I am Santa Claus, the one and only." His hands clenched firmly at his sides, emphasizing the belt around his waist as he puffed out his chest. Timmy's face lit up with delight, and he sprang to his feet, forgetting every little detail that had scared him prior to this conversation.
"Did you receive my letter, Santa?" he yelped in agony.
"Of course, my little one!" Santa replied, his finger lightly tapping the boy's nose in a playful manner. "I read each and every letter given to me by kids around the world very, very carefully... twice. Then I look in my very large white ball made of crystal and see if the kids are good or naughty. I write the good ones on my list…” he explained patting his pant’s pocket, “...then I visit them one by one.” he silently explained.

The boy eagerly grasped Santa's gloved hand and guided him toward the couch, where he ushered the older man to sit down, offering him the plate of cookies and glass of milk. The older man forced three of them in his mouth and munched for a while before taking a good long sip of the milk appreciating the flavor. His eyes alternated between the boy and the sizable red sack filled with presents. Timmy settled beside Santa, patiently awaiting for the man to finish his meal.

"Santa, did you really read my letter?" Timmy inquired. The man nodded affirmatively, managing to stuff the last of the cookies into his mouth while gulping down the remainder of the milk.

"So…what I asked for…does that make me a naughty boy?" Timmy questioned, gently touching Santa’s arm. The gramophone suddenly stopped playing the serene song from before, pulling Timmy’s attention from the jolly man. A brief hush enveloped the room and only some licking sounds were heard by the man who used his chocolate covered tongue to wipe some milk off his mustache. He brought his gloved hand on his mouth and used one of his fingers to pry away a piece of cookie from between his teeth, then wiped that glove on his red suit. From one of his pockets, he retrieved a piece of weathered papyrus, tied with a small ribbon. As he unfurled the parchment, an incredibly lengthy scroll cascaded toward the floor, its end trailing and folding a few times before reaching the room's corner. The aged paper bore an inscription on its outer part, reading "Oklahoma Region." Timmy couldn't help but gasp at the sheer length of the scroll, wondering how many kids there were around the area and pondering on how many gifts a sack could carry. Santa, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, carefully searched in the parchment.

"Timmy Hearth!" Santa chuckled. "I found you.” he sang as if they were playing hide and seek. “Oh ho ho ho, Timmy, that's quite the request you've made. Are you certain though?" The man removed his glasses, gazing intently at the boy.
"Absolutely, Santa," Timmy affirmed with certainty.
The scene unfolded in a swift and magical manner as Claus swiftly pulled the papyrus, causing the mystical item to promptly fold itself like a measuring tape going back to the plastic cover and pushed it into his pocket in a hurry. Santa rose to his feet, after clapping his hands against his knees and retrieved an item from the sack of presents - the leather rope that held the sack in place cinched tightly around his hands like a whip, likely the same one used for his reindeer's sleigh. Suddenly his face changed into a very serious expression. “Well then. Let’s get to work.” he strode toward the stairs, Timmy trailing close behind, not wanting to leave the man’s side. Each step the elder one made creaked the boards of the staircase beneath him. After a while a cloak of darkness enveloped them as they had finally reached the second floor, leaving behind the neatly decorated room and silent log crackling.

Santa swung open the door to Timmy's bedroom, revealing another sleeping child on a second bed. The boy bore a striking resemblance to Timmy, sharing his stature, haircut, and even clutching a teddy bear resembling his brother's. Timmy pouted and walked with the elder man who approached the bed, his gaze fixed on the slumbering child. With a solemn move, he raised his arm, the whip adorning his back with its graceful length.

"You are on my list Timmy," Santa declared. "And so is your brother." In one swift motion, the whip snapped fiercely against the bedcovers, startling the sleeping boy awake. “But a gift is a gift right?” he exclaimed as he looked at Timmy, who seemed extremely scared at the sound the whip had made.

"Mom?" The twin boy mumbled as he looked up to meet with the figure of Santa, but before he could utter a scream, the whip lashed across his face. The boy tumbled from the bed with a loud thud and crawled slowly on the floor towards his brother. Timmy was aghast at the sight of his twin’s face - a line of dark, burnt coal line streaking from his right temple down to his mouth rendered him unable to utter a word. Timmy turned towards Santa in an attempt to make him stop only to be met with a terrifying sight. What was once a merry and kind figure was now a grotesque, nightmarish entity resembling a demon - tall, towering and obese. The vibrant red suit now seemed like stretched flesh, while the once benign black belt coiled around him like a serpent, making rounds and round in spot. The white beard was a cloud of smoke accentuating the creature's ghastly yellowed teeth. Timmy felt scared, weak and small beside his hurt brother.

The creature took a step back and breathed under the heavy cloud of smoke surrounding him. It walked slowly over to the young boy’s side, forcing him to stand up from the floor. The hurt boy tried screaming and scratched his face but neither his muffles nor his voice came out properly and part of his face was peeling off at each attempt to realize what was on there. The creature, which had left behind some trails of coal steps, wrapped the whip around its small wrists forcefully. It then pulled back and tagged on the whip so hard the wrists became a black trail of veins up to the shoulders and broke into pieces of coal, leaving the boy armless. Timmy, taken aback by the sight and with wide slim eyes, fell backwards, landing on the wall and tried to comprehend the situation. His hands felt the fur of his brother’s teddy bear as he brought it up to cover his face for protection. The Santa-demon tilted its head on the right and grinned. Using the instrument of his work he slashed it towards the the hurt boy’s legs, immediately flatting him down on the floor in a pile of coal. In a matter of seconds, the creature bent down, carefully gathering the fragmented pieces, enfolding them against its torso. As it did so, the figure morphed, adopting the appearance of the cheerful old man in red clothing and a snowy beard. This image blurred in Timmy's eyes as tears streamed down his cheeks, clutching his brother's teddy bear, now stained with ash and dirt. The Santa Timmy had learned and heard so much about had nothing to do with the man standing in front of him now.The elder guy twisted his head as if to straighten his head to the right place and stood up, with a handful of coal staining his white gloves. He navigated toward the room's exit and descended the stairs into the living room. Timmy still startled, made his way downstairs willingly, surprised to see that the big red bag that the man was carrying was filled with coal and the man was depositing the coal remnants of his twin brother inside it. As each piece vanished from his hands, the frames throughout the house subtly altered, erasing the young boy from their captured memories. The photos remained with only Timmy alongside his parents - his brother’s presence fading away. Some which contained his brother only replaced with pictures of sceneries from Timmy’s memories. As the final piece dropped in, Timmy gasped and turned to face Santa. He blinked a few times as if he had just woken up from a deep slumber. The older man approached him and pulled from underneath his red velvety coat, a gift - a wooden train wagon with a tiny bell and dark wheels. Puzzled by missing Santa's arrival, or how he had come down the living room Timmy smiled, accepting the gift. He opened his mouth to greet Santa, but the old man shushed him on the spot and winked at him. “Wouldn’t want to wake up your parents, right?” the guy coughed with a hoarse tone.

With the bag on his back, Santa rolled towards the fireplace giving a hard look at the gramophone before climbing up the inside of the marble furniture, leaving ash scattered across the living room. Timmy, jolted from his thoughts and happily dashed outside, leaving small footprints in the cold snow that covered the entrance of his house. Santa, already on his sleigh, urged the reindeer forward with his magical whip. To Timmy's surprise, each four legged animal pulling the carriage was a coal figure of a reindeer with an ember glowing red heart visible proudly on their chests - burning a very strong fire bright enough to blind the darkness.

As the creatures pulled the sleigh to the sky a letter made its escape from the carriage, which drifted towards Timmy. The young boy reached for it before ti touched the ground and recognized his own handwriting there - it was his own letter to Santa. For a moment Timmy smiled but his small lips formed a pout, looking at the train-wagon in his embrace, not actually remembering asking for it from the holy man. To be truthful, he just couldn’t remember what he had asked for. Letting the wooden present fall off his embrace on the thick patch of snow, he unfolded the piece of paper and read it. A tear trickled down his cheek. He recited the inscription that was written at the end of the letter with coal, in huge letters. “Careful what you ask for. Merry Fucking Christmas.”