Snow began to fall in the North Pole, covering Santa’s village in a veil of white. The elves were busy working, making toys for all the good boys and girls. The elves of Workshop 14 were drinking eggnog and dancing jigs in the recreation area of the workshop. The main door was slowly pushed open and Alabaster walked in. His skin a pale white, clothes torn and his eyes were milky. All of the elves turned to look and let out a collective gasp. They all rushed to the aid of their injured friend.

 

Alabaster turned to the first elf to reach him. He bared his teeth and attacked. No one is as efficient as one of Santa’s elves at accomplishing a task, any task. Within the hour, the 24 elves of Workshop 14 were all turned.

 

The Witch strolled into the workshop, her black dress spotted with snow but she did not show any signs of being cold.

 

At 11 o’clock Santa came to make the rounds.  There were other workshops of course, with different specialties.  Perhaps he’d stayed too long with the taffy shop, now he was running behind.  It was therefore that he hardly noticed the smell, already starting to fill the air, of fire and ash.

 

When Santa saw the chaos that Workshop 14 had become, he tried his best to run. Magic, however, is impossible to escape. He ran for the door. In front of him, the air became hazy and he hit a wall he could not see. His vision went dark.

 

Santa awoke suddenly as his wrists and ankles were bound tight with twine.

 

He was in his large sleigh bed, nestled deep in a pile of quilts and furs, and a cozy fire crackled from a massive hearth.

 

“Alabaster!” he cried, catching  glimpse of the elf over his large belly, “what’s the meaning of this!”

 

The elf looked up.  His eyes were as cloudy as cream, and his skin hung loose on his face.  His small, nimble fingers never ceased knotting and braiding the twine around Santa’s legs.

 

Santa tried to sit, but his hands were pulled to high to either side of him.  He jerked his right hand hard against its bindings.  

 

“You are finally awake”, laughed the Witch. “So glad you could join us, I thought you might miss all the fun.”

 

The workshop had been turned into a black magic lair. The walls, floor, ceiling and even the air was tinted black. The evil of the magic had corrupted everything. The undead elves could be seen toiling away over a large cauldron.

 

“What are you doing you foul creature?”, Santa screamed infuriated.

 

“Elven magic is necessary for my plans. Now that I have control of your little flock, I can create magic more powerful than there has ever been!”, the Witch sneered gleefully.

 

“You see, I once had a coven. They were my sisters but they were taken from me. That town… Salem, it took everything from me”, the Witch said mourningly. “But using the ashes of my sisters and the elven magic, I shall make Salem pay for what they have done.”

 

“This isn’t the first time evil has entered my village”, Santa said. “Our defenses will be online and coming for you.”

 

Just then, the window shattered and a large figure landed inside of the workshop. It looked exactly like Santa but moved differently.

 

“HALT INTRUDER.”, the robot Santa said in an eerie robotic voice.

 

“Yes, yes. I am well aware of your defenses Santa.”, the Witch growled.

 

In one swift motion, she plunged her hand into the cauldron and flicked a handful of ash towards the robot. The dust shimmered blue and green as it touched the fake skin covering the robotic body. The cyborg froze.

 

“Oh no”, Santa exclaimed.

 

“He is mine now.”, the Witch cried. “With my magic and this… thing, Salem is doomed”, the Witch cackled.

 

“Thank you Santa for making this even easier.”, she said as she turned her back to him.

 

The Witch threw the magic ash high into the air, and an image of Salem shimmered in front of them. The Witch, the Cyborg santa and the zombie elves stepped through the image, setting foot onto the cold ground of Salem.
“Finally the time of my revenge is here!”, the Witch exclaimed.