Young Writers Society

"No," James said with a sigh, looking over to Kratzer and the skeleton person. "But I believe Kratzer might have an idea." He paused, then raised his voice a tad to get his brother's attention.

"Kratzer, do you have any idea what 'saving Christmas' might entail?"

Grim froze even more when he heard James utter the name, then took a shaky breath and stepped forward. He was beginning to realize there was no easy way out of this. He would just have to go through it and discover the source of the problem, just like they had done in the mansion and the church. "The note mentioned something about Santa," Grim helpfully pointed out. "Maybe we need to find him?"

"Does anyone know what he looks like?" James asked.

Grim glanced down at his current outfit, then back up at James. It was strange to think that someone didn't know what Santa looked like, but James was almost certainly from another world - he'd have to do his best to explain what he looked like. "He looks like me, kind of," Grim hesitantly said. He fiddled with the collar of the suit. "He wears an outfit just like this, and has long white hair and a beard. He's also round around the stomach, and always is doing this cheerful laugh."

His jaw dropped behind his fake beard, doing its best to show a frown that no one could see. "But Santa isn't supposed to be...you know..."

"Unless it's talking about the original version of Santa Claus, called St Nicholas, or Nikolaus, or other versions of that name," Kratzer added. "Depending on where in the world you're from, there's different legends, but the gist of it is that St Nick brings presents to the good children and the naughty ones either get coal or something unpleasant. In nastier versions, kidnapping and beatings are doled out to those who misbehave. But, yeah, typically he's wearing red and has a beard. I'd imagine that saving Christmas means finding St Nikolaus. Santa. Sorry. Santa, gotta try to get that into my head."

When he opened his eyes, he was met with the horrifying realization that his clothes had suddenly changed in the middle of the night. He sat up with a jolt and a startled cry, snow clinging to every inch of his bright, colorful clothing and his curly hair. He was wearing an elf costume, but that wasn't exactly right, either. His ears felt longer than they did when he was pretending to be Lucas or Luke, but he couldn't feel his horns or tail. He paled, then frantically conjured up a mirror with his magic.

He dropped the mirror the moment he saw his reflection.

There was a somewhat unfamiliar man looking back at him in the reflection. His face was the right shape, and the proportions were all right, but the colors were all wrong. His curly, short hair, was blond instead of black, and the eyes that should have been red were blue instead. And instead of a trusty pencil tucked behind one pointed ear, he found himself staring at a candy cane.

The mirror lay forgotten in the snow when he realized he wasn't the only one present. Some of them looked almost familiar, but he couldn't put his fingers on why - almost all of them looked like they had gone through what he had, and were now changed for the holidays. His gaze landed on a skeleton in a Santa costume lingering beside the group. Had someone become Jack Skellington-

His eyes widened, and he rushed over to his friend's side with his belled hat jingling. "Grim?" he asked, looking him over. It had to be him! The visible parts of the skull looked the same, and the glowing pinpricks in his eyes sockets was a distinctively Grim thing.

The Grim Reaper stared at him, said pinpricks growing smaller in alarm as he stumbled back from him. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaking. "How did-How did-" There was a pause as he teetered dangerously close to a snow pile, but then suddenly he became very still and looked him over.

"...Lucifer?" he quietly questioned.

He hurriedly nodded.