'So brother, the time has come.'
The wind whipped Knecht Ruprechts' bluish pewter hair as he approached St Nicholas on the high plains of Salem-Megiddo.
'Ho ho ho. Ha, Hum. Ahem! Has it really?'
Father Christmas's big belly shook a little but not necessarily with merriment when he spoke. The traditional wooden pipe hanging jauntily from the corner of his mouth emitted a deep and fragrant plume that evoked notes of frankincense, cinnamon and myrrh and intoxicated just a little. That plume shouldn't have been there. Yet it was.
'Yes it has,' Knecht Ruprecht said, licking his thin black twisted lips; his sharpened fangs threatening to pierce them as he drew ever closer. 'And you know our bargain. Our kind do not forget. I restrain my evil side and hordes for ninety nine years and serve you in delivering joy to the world and on the hundredth year, me and my kind are released to deliver our own special christmas gifts to the adults of earth.'
Father Christmas fussed about with his beard then picked a gob of wax from his ear using his fat bent little pinky, before flicking it casually away. It froze within seconds, most likely lost somewhere in the darkness, like a pea lost during shelling on a Mississippi porch. The wind gusted once more, sending ice and snow swirling. Neither entity was remotely affected.
His twin was only mere feet away now and St Nicholas' unease seemed to grow infinitesimally.
Already the powerful bonds that had held Knecht Ruprecht compliant for almost a century were failing. These bonds were not visible to most beings of either flesh or spirit but they were undeniably there nonetheless and they were indeed extraordinarily powerful since they were placed there by God himself. His brother Nicholas had known this was coming though...The Falling. The Vracktorshracken. Even though neither one had made mention of it for ninety nine years.
And yet here it was.
'Yes,' said Father Christmas thoughtfully, chomping on his pipe. 'I do believe you are right.'
'I know I am right.'
Father Christmas still remained calm. There was even an odd sparkle in his eye. It did not pass by unobserved.
'If you have something to say brother, make haste, I am eager to be let loose. The time is near at hand. I will not be stopped then and you know it.'
St Nicholas laid a hand on his fiendish looking twin for the first time in four thousand years. He gripped his shoulder and said;
'If you and your hordes agree and commit to certain terms, your time will come around every fifty years instead.'
Knecht Reprecht looked ready to rip Nick's hand off and ram it up his fat rectum but he stopped and thought, for he was as clever as he was ugly.
'So what are these terms?'
'Well, no concentration camps this time. No murders. No giving people cancer. No introducing kids to drugs. Those aren't christmas presents brother. No one wants those. No killing celebrities. No causing crop failures. No starting fires in people's homes via christmas lights.'
'What the fuck. So basically be you. How boring. You know I can't do that.'
'No one is asking you to be me. The whole point of your existence is that you aren't me.'
He suddenly looked pained. He even looked like he wanted to rest his great meaty hand on his demonic brother's boney shoulder again.
'There must be something. A hundred years is too long. What can you and your hordes gift the adult population of earth that feeds your dark side brother?'
Knecht Reprecht lifted his bowed head and turned slowly, eyes glowing violet.
'Sex. Filthy depraved Christmas sex.'
'Ok,' St Nicholas nodded. 'That could work. Obviously safe, sane and consensual as the saying goes. But you could actually do some good with that. Sex makes people happy. I think you can do this brother. Whilst this clearly isn't my area -- I haven't seen my um...equipment in eons. My belly is too big. You, I think and some of your hordes might be able to change Christmas for some in surprising ways.'
The other twin looked contemplative. His gnarled hand crawled down his midriff to scrape his crotch.
'Hm...I think for once you've hit upon a fine idea. I shall assemble my dark elvlets and come up with a plan. I will need the lists of who has been bad and who has not.'
Father Christmas chuckled. The lists appeared in his open palm immediately. His brother took them, perusing, one eye twitching all the while.
'Vernon Boone? Virgin at 49? Has been a perfect citizen all year?' he said with disgust.
Santa shrugged.
'I bet that hot little elflet of yours Jalmera would soon remove his untriedness in a style he will never forget.'
His twin let out something like a laugh.
'Oh yes. She would. And then some.'
'There you go then. You have your lists. You have free reign to a point. If you stick to the script then maybe we can halve your time. Make this work Knech.'
'I will,' he said, sinking his teeth through his lip finally and gripping his foot long erection. 'The people of earth are going to have a very very merry fucking Christmas. Me and my dark elves will ensure it.'
ELVLET NOEL
I'm glad I got this in the draw. Master pays me so little heed but I feel I can use this to stand out a bit more. If I'm clever.
Shit. It looks like the kind of place Ted Bundy or the Mansons would hit. I'm really not kidding. It's so textbook upper middle class. An aging split level sprawling bungalow above the twinkling city. Am I supposed to go in here and blow her mind or blow her brains out? What. I suddenly need to take stock. I bet she's about fucking ninety.
Hm. So yeah. How to get in. How not to freak her out so bad her pussy clamps shut for the next century. Hell, it probably already is welded shut. It's seen no action since pre covid times reputedly and that was nearly a decade ago. She must be ugly or else ancient.
Ok. So. Plan formulated. This is gonna hurt...
'Oh my goodness!' cried Chloe. She rushed out of the house as soon as she heard the impact. Such was her hurry she wasn't even wearing shoes.
'Oh my God! Please tell me you're alright? Shall I call someone?'
For theatrical effect, Noel groaned and attempted to sit up, still pinned beneath his smoking vintage Indiana Harley Davidson bike.
'You stay here,' she stammered. 'I'm going to call someone. I'll be right back.'
The woman was terrified and in shock, but he could see she was doing her best to be a good citizen.
Ah...a good citizen. That's why she's on the good list. That's why I'm here.
He flexed his massive arms and lifted the bike from off himself then staggered to his feet.
'Hey. Don't worry about it. I'm gonna be ok. Nothing a couple of advil and a shot of Tequila won't fix. Not so sure about my bike though.'
He feigned mild distress and she responded as he hoped.
'I am so so sorry. It is lovely bike. Can I help you get it off the road and then make you a coffee while you wait for help?'
Noel smiled almost shyly and he got the first hint of her vague arousal. Her skin was flushed at her throat. Her eyes dilated.
'You're too kind. I don't want to put you out. And ya know my clothes are pretty stinky. I don't want to get mud in your beautiful house.'