Chapter 13

13

Dashing into danger,

A one-bear polar menace.

Growling as he renders,

Smashingly overzealous.

Nanook head-butted the massive walrus in the gut, shoving it back. The very chunky beast had emerged from the splintered doorway of Santa’s house and humped its girth to attack. Some folks assumed a walrus on land would be slow and ineffectual.

Wrong.

Walrus were tough bastards, which meant Nanook had to be careful. He also had to pay attention. Thankfully, Kira and the elves handled the wolverine that kept trying to jump on his back, leaving him to face off against the brute.

The big wally barked at him, and Nanook snapped right back before lunging, but the wily beast proved fast and managed to avoid his chomping teeth.

Nanook crouched and watched the big beast as it swayed on the porch, honking, calling its friends. A herd of them would be trouble.

Time to end this fight.

He stood and went in with slashing claws. The walrus tried to stab him with its tusks, but a clenched paw to the face knocked its head sideways, and then Nanook was on top of the brute, tearing and slashing, ribboning, until it stopped moving.

Before Nanook could enter the house, the Yeti bugled. A glance showed them lumbering in their direction.

Not good. Polar bears had few true predators, but the abominable snow creatures? They ranked at the top.

A glance at his sister showed her standing and cracking her paws, getting ready. She bared her teeth in a ferocious polar version of a grin. He flanked her, the pair of them facing off against the mighty hairy Yeti stomping their way.

Ping. Ping. Candy canes began bouncing off the foreheads of the threat, tiny striped missiles that did nothing to slow their advance. But at least the elves tried.

Nanook had braced himself, readying to charge, when suddenly a bomb dropped from the sky.

Not a bomb, a fruitcake, delivered by none other than Leroy, who did an about-turn and flapped to a rooftop, where some elves waited with more.

The Yeti paused, and one of them scooped the cake. The other smacked it out of its hands. The first Yeti bellowed and threw itself on its companion. To Nanook’s surprise—and glee—the abominables began fighting with each other.

It didn’t last long, with the first one drawing blood, which apparently was a sign to stop. The loser pouted, great big lower lip jutting, showing off its saber teeth. It resumed its march for Nanook and gang, while its companion ate the fruitcake.

Leroy dropped another loaf.

The second Yeti stamped its feet and snatched it, popping it into its mouth. The lure of the fruitcake stronger than the one to attack.

Ding-a-ling shouted, “We’ve got these abominables covered. Get inside and rescue Santa.”

Nanook trundled into the house, his nose picking up a myriad of scents. Elf, not surprising. Santa, of course. Walrus, nasty. And polar bear.

He frowned, mostly because there was something familiar and, at the same time, off about the polar bear scent lingering inside. But he ignored it in favor of Dancer’s aroma. He followed his nose into a living room where a section of wall gaped open and beyond…

He shifted to mutter, “What in the ever-snowing blizzard is going on here?”

With just a quick glance, he took in the scene. A long workbench of weathered wood covered in glass beakers and Bunsen burners, the array of them linked by tubing, through which flowed fluids of varying colors. He took in the massive safe in a corner with its door open and Santa’s precious bible askew, lying on the floor. But the most perturbing sight of all?

Santa, spread eagle on a rack, with bindings around his torso, wrists, legs. Even his neck had a strap. He appeared unconscious, his eyes shut, his breathing labored. The big fellow pale of countenance, most likely because of the IVs in both his arms pumping out his blood, which sparkled. Despite his desperation to find Dancer, he eyed the contraption hooked to Santa. He knew enough about them to figure out how to turn off the valve.

As Nanook stopped the flow, Santa opened a single bloodshot eye and peered blearily at him. “Thank the sugar plums you’re here.”

“What’s going on?” Because, while he’d expected to find the big man captive, to see him ignobly drained baffled.

“Bad things,” Santa muttered, his one eye fluttering shut.

“Don’t pass out on me yet,” Nanook grumbled. “Where’s Dancer and Benedict?”

Santa kept his eyes closed as he murmured, “They went into the tunnel after Krampus and?—”

Nanook had heard enough. “Sorry to leave, but I have to help them.” The hole in the floor, with its hatch folded over, had to be where they’d gone. As he prepared to jump down, Santa gasped.

“Wait. There’s things you have to know before you go rushing in.”

He paused on the edge of the hole. “Like what?”

“Free me while I tell you.”

The delay chafed. However, he’d always heard of how Santa was a mighty combatant. So mighty he’d been captured. Still, only those who wanted to be mounted as trophies rushed into bad situations without all the intel.

Nanook returned to the rack and began to unbuckle the restraints. “What happened to you?”

“I was fooled. Someone who left a while ago returned, begging for a second chance. I should have known better. Should have seen the naughty in their heart. Alas, adults are much harder to read than children. I let them into my home for a chat, and they drugged my tea. I woke, bound and impotent, my village taken hostage.”

“Must have been some pretty good shit if it managed to take you down,” he remarked as he bent to do the ankles, chafing at the delay. The bindings weren’t simple leather he noticed. They appeared coated with something that left an unpleasant residue.

“The world today is capable of so much. A pity that those with bad intentions sometimes are the best innovators.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Nanook murmured. He understood because, in the military, he’d seen the weapons being developed. Each more horrible than the last.

Once he’d freed Santa’s arms and legs, Nanook readied to go after Dancer.

“Before you leave, you should know Krampus isn’t the real threat.”

Once more he paused on the edge of the tunnel’s hatch. “Then who is?”

Before Santa could reply, Nanook heard distant screaming, echoing up the tunnel. He jumped into the hole and, as he began running, heard Santa faintly call out after him. “Beware the past that returns to taunt you.”

Cryptic shit. Why couldn’t people ever give straight answers?

Nanook remained a naked man as he ran through the tunnel, hearing the screams, high-pitched like that of elves—or children.

The hatch at the far end of the corridor gaped wide open, and he emerged into an office, the big desk taking up the center obviously Santa’s. Bookshelves lined the walls and held toys, the hand-carved type that he suspected Santa had designed himself. The door to the room remained ajar, and when he pushed through it, he found an unbelievable sight.

The most surprising thing? Not the giant elf with leathery skin wearing Santa’s pants and coat. A red hat with a pompom hung off one curving horn. Nor was the surprising sight that of elves and kidnapped children, huddled crying against a wall. The thing that froze him in place? The sight of his girls in the grips of none other than their mother.

“Anjij?” He blinked, but she didn’t disappear, looking paler than before but recognizable. How had he not known she’d returned to the North Pole? Why hadn’t she contacted him? Or tried to see the girls?

His shock had him frozen in place until he heard a familiar voice.

“It’s over, Jingles!” Dancer yelled bravely, facing off against the monster, which snarled.

“Obey me, reindeer. I am Santa,” Jingles bellowed, beating his leathery gray chest, the coat he wore gaping open.

“Ha, as if you could ever think to take his place,” Dancer taunted, making Nanook wonder why she made the wannabe Krampus mad until he saw Benedict taking aim with his hot cocoa shooter.

Nanook knew before Benedict fired it would fail.

Splat.

The hot liquid with melting marshmallows hit Krampus in the face and dribbled. The monstrous elf licked its lips. “Yum. More.” He opened his mouth wide and smirked.

“Crush them,” Anjij yelled. “Crush those who would stand in the path of your greatness, oh mighty Krampus.”

In that moment, Nanook understood—even as he could scarcely believe—Anjij was a part of the coup. Santa’s parting remark made sense now.

Worse than that realization? She held his girls, clinging tight to their hands despite the fact they pulled to try and get away. His poor cubs wore a frightened look until they saw their Dada.

Siku spotted him first and stopped struggling. She smiled, and her lips moved, which led to Sesi stilling as well. Both his girls stared at him with all the confidence children could have in their parent.

Anjij noticed their distraction, and her full lips pulled into a scowl. “Your father can’t save you. No one can. Get him, Krampus,” she yelled. “Smash the bear who wants to keep us apart.”

Krampus turned his gaze from a frustrated Benedict with his hot cocoa gun and fixed it on Nanook.

Time to bear out.

Nanook fluffed out, swapping to fur with a roar that Krampus met. He charged across the floor, noting how Benedict tugged Dancer out of the way.

In his transformed state, Jingles now loomed as tall as Nanook when he stood on his hind paws. At least the elf who’d ruined his life would be able to put up a fight—a failed one, as Nanook would take his life.

Nanook slammed into the mutant elf, who, to his surprise, didn’t topple. Jingles grunted and held against Nanook’s shoving force, which dropped his jaw wide open. Nanook uttered a grunt and heaved, grappling with the monster’s unexpected strength. In a brute contest of force, they appeared evenly matched. Good thing Nanook knew some tricks. He slid a hind paw between Jingles’ legs and hooked his ankle, throwing Jingles off balance. The elf hit the floor hard, with Nanook on top, but he didn’t keep his position long. Jingles shoved and managed to fling Nanook away.

Suddenly airborne, Nanook couldn’t do much but brace before he hit the floor. Nanook shook his head before standing to brace for the next run. Jingles also rose to his feet and uttered a strange bugling cry.

“You’ve injured me,” the mutant elf screamed, whining about the tiny scratch on his cheek that bled a thick and strange green-colored ooze.

Nanook raced for Jingles just as Dancer yelled, “Holy shiny tinsel. He’s getting bigger.”

Indeed, the elf suddenly expanded, popping seams on its garments, revealing even more of its mottled gray chest, the skin on it taut, so taut Nanook could see the outline of every bone. The face turned gaunt as flesh stretched to accommodate the new size.

Jingles thumped his chest and roared. “Ho. Ho. Ho.” With his longer reach, Jingles swung and batted at Nanook, sending him rolling, the force behind the blow impressive.

As he rose once more to four paws, he heard his ex-wife cackle. “Make him bleed again, you big dumb oaf. Injuries only make Krampus stronger!”

The revelation surely couldn’t be true. It made no sense.

Dancer reacted by hollering, “Liar! You don’t want Nanook attacking because you’re scared your plot to ruin Christmas is about to go up in hollyberry smoke.”

“Why would I lie?” Anjij stated with a smirk. “Did you not notice my peppermint lover is now bigger than a Yeti? Every time he bleeds, he grows, his new special trait courtesy of a recipe left behind by a certain Mastermind, may the good genius rest in peace.”

The name sent a shockwave through the shifters present. Everyone in their world knew that Mastermind had been behind horrible experiments on their kind. Taking innocent furries and other shapeshifters and making them into monsters.

“You won’t succeed in your plot,” Dancer insisted. “Good always prevails over evil.”

“Does it? Because, from where I stand, it looks like I’ve already won,” an overly confident Anjij stated.

Indeed, the situation didn’t look good. Benedict, impotent without a proper gun. Dancer brave but also without a weapon. Nanook might be the mightiest ice bear around, but even he found the foe he faced daunting.

Krampus grinned. “Ho. Ho. Ho. Who wants to sit on my lap?” With that, he bent down and reached for Dancer. She moved quickly out of the way, however, didn’t flee to safety, instead remaining in the danger zone around the monster.

Nanook roared and rushed Krampus, staying on all his paws and lowering his head to ram. He might as well have struck a mountain for all the good it did. He hit Krampus just above the knee to no avail—unless a possible concussion counted.

Stunned at the impact, he couldn’t avoid the swipe that sent him flying. He rolled and tumbled, coming to a stop at the feet of an older female elf.

She eyed him sadly. “Never thought I’d see Christmas end at the hands of a bad elf. Thanks at least for trying.”

As if he’d give up.

Nanook rose and glanced at Krampus to see him swiping at a prancing Dancer. She’d shifted and, despite the snug tights and shirt that hadn’t shredded, darted to and fro, teasing the monster, which made no sense until he saw Benedict climbing to the balcony behind Krampus with a spindle in hand. A broken chair had provided his friend with a sharp stake.

Benedict would only get one chance to stab. Nanook lumbered over to join Dancer in distracting Krampus, standing on his hind legs and roaring.

Jingles cackled. “Puny little teddy. Guess who’s bigger now.”

“Not you,” Benedict yelled. “You’re the peppermint scuzz your mom should have swallowed.”

At the insult, Jingles whirled, only to shriek as a leaping Benedict shoved the stake through his chest before dropping to the floor.

Everyone held their breath as Jingles grabbed at the sliver of wood embedded in its flesh, right where his heart should be. The giant elf wailed, “Argh. I’m stabbed. Oh no. Oh… you idiots.” The voice deepened, and to everyone’s horror, the monster grew some more.

Benedict had missed its heart, if it even had one.

With the new bloody injury, Krampus grew so much his horns butted into the ceiling and, with a toss of his head, smashed through the roof, sending parts of it tumbling.

Everyone ran to get away from the falling debris. Dancer skirted past him, heading for the protection of the outer walls, where the elves huddled. Nanook stood behind her and used his body as a shield as parts of the building came down.

Crash .

“Bwahahaha.” Jingles smashed through the hall and stomped outside, yelling, “Forget being Santa. I am Krampus. Emperor of the world.”

“Not diddly-snickerdoodle likely,” bellowed a deep voice.

It took an elf murmuring, “Santa!” for them to raise their heads and look to the sky through the ruined roof. Overhead, illuminated by the green lights of the Aurora Borealis, appeared a figure on a reindeer.

Make that a caribou, because Charlie would have been insulted to be called otherwise. Yes, Charlie. No mistaking the grizzled old pilot who’d survived the crash after all, who now ran on air, carrying the big man.

“We’re saved!” cheered the elves.

Nanook wasn’t the only one to race through the rubble to get outside and watch the unfolding battle.

A Kong-sized Krampus stood in the middle of Holiday Square, scowling. “I knew we should have killed you. But, no, Anjij said, we need Santa, even though I said, ‘no, my little pot of crème de menthe, we don’t, because you have me.’ I warned her you were tricky.”

“Jingles, you’ve been a bad, bad elf,” Santa stated in a voice that carried as he sat atop Charlie, who did circles overhead. “For your crimes, you are permanently on the naughty list and banned from the North Pole.” The big man extended his red and white glowing striped sword, a sword Nanook thought was only legend.

“You and your rules. Blech.” Jingles raspberried his tongue. “Elves are tired of listening to a fat human.”

“No, we’re not,” squeaked an elf. Others watching on the outskirts murmured in agreement.

“Silence. You don’t know what’s good for you, but I do,” Krampus declared. “Under my rule, we shall own the world. Humans will work for us.”

“Have you seen their shoddy products? No thanks,” shouted another elf.

“Give up now, Jingles, or face the consequences,” Santa shouted.

“Never!” Jingles swung a massive fist, and Charlie had to dive to avoid getting swatted from the sky.

Everyone on the ground “oooh-ed” as Santa held on. How? Nanook couldn’t have said. A man his size should have fallen if gravity applied.

Jingles kept swinging, preventing Santa from getting close. A distraction was needed. Just as Nanook prepared to provide it, a tiny fluffy form bolted from between two buildings. An arctic fox—Felicia! She had survived the helicopter crash and appeared in fine fox form. Fast as a child stealing a cookie, she darted between Jingles’ legs, avoiding the stomping feet. To add to Nanook’s astonishment, Benedict came charging, seated atop a musk ox—Gertie, in all her snorting ire. She bull-rushed Jingles, and Nanook had to wonder at the plan until he saw Benedict pull back a slingshot and let loose. Just a candy cane, but fired hard at Jingles’ groin.

The tiny sting shouldn’t have been a big deal, but the elf screamed. “My peppermint chocolate balls. Argh, you nasty little bird.” Distracted and half bent over to try and grab the fleeing Benedict atop his oxen mount, Jingles never saw Charlie swoop low.

Santa leaped from the caribou’s back, his swirling red and white sword extended, and, in a move that had everyone holding their breath, sliced neatly through Krampus’ neck before gracefully alighting.

For a second, Jingles stood. Mouth open wide. Eyes even wider.

Thump .

Jingles’ head hit the ground, and this time, the letting of blood didn’t cause him to grow. The body did a slow slump to the ground and didn’t move.

It took a moment before everyone realized the nightmare was over.

A mighty cheer arose that turned into a song.

“Jolly Old Saint Nicholas,

Aimed his sword this way!

Didn't spare this evil soul,

Or listened to what he said.

Christmas Eve is upon us now,

You dear and tough old man,

Give three cheers for Santa Claus.

He’s our favorite man.”

There was much rejoicing, and yet Nanook couldn’t join them. He raced into Gingerbread Hall to find his girls gone, along with Anjij. Where were they?

Dancer skidded to a halt in front of him and quickly shifted to say, “We have to get to the factory, pronto.”

Still a bear, he uttered a questioning, “Grawr?”

“The girls are in the candy-making factory with your ex-wife. Hurry. We have to stop her.”

Stop Anjij from doing what? Surely Anjij wouldn’t hurt them?

Dancer yelled the reply before racing for the factory, still billowing smoke. “She’s trying to be the next Mastermind, and she’s planning to start with your girls!”

With that shocking news, Nanook couldn’t run fast enough.

Even then, he arrived to see he might be too late. A wall of animals crowded the factory floor, standing between him and his cubs. Perched on a catwalk above a massive vat, his girls stood on either side of Anjij, not by choice. She gripped each one by the hand.

“Let them go, Anjij,” he shouted, keeping a wary eye on the sea of foes. They stared at him, the wolverines with drool dripping, the walrus, wobbling in place. Held in check for the moment.

A cruel tilt lifted the corners of Anjij’s lips. “Why would I do that?” She laughed. “You’re too late, Nanook. I’ve already won. Minions, attack!”

In that moment, he understood. It wasn’t Krampus who’d been controlling the animals, but his ex. As the wild animals began throwing themselves in his direction, he couldn’t help but feel regret that he’d failed. He’d never be able to save his girls with such terrible odds.

But even knowing that, he’d go down fighting.

With a mighty roar, Nanook raced to battle.