Chapter 66: Vol 2: National Development - Special Chapter: Violent Night
Disclaimer: Though Saint Nicholas Cage, Santa Claus, is real in this story. Let's be honest here, at this period which is 1935, it's still underdeveloped enough for Santa to remain a myth. Not to mention he is a magical hunk of a man that totally wasn't based on Senator Armstrong. Nobody would know Santa was there unless he allowed them to know.
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Materializing on top of a platform, high above the cloud, and on top of one of Yggdrasil's branches, Santa Claus pats his belly in contentment from enjoying the delicious cookies served at the party below. With that out of the way, he goes on to perform a final pre-flight check on his sleigh, pulled by eight reindeer and has a hefty sack of gifts on the back. Midway through his task, Santa notices a couple of guests that have just arrived.
Turning over with a speed shocking for a man of his stature, Santa welcomes them with a big smile. "Lady Yggdra and one cute little guest! I welcome you to my humble abode, hohoho!"
His laughter is infectious as Yggdra smiles lightly while the slime that she's holding in her hands, claps its tentacles excitedly. "Saint Nicholas Cage, still attentive to your work as always."
Nodding, Santa replies respectfully. "Yes, milady, we can't have children unattended for Christmas. I would be unfitted for the title if I couldn't handle the job in this holiest of days."
"I see," Yggdra says. "Carries on then and don't mind me."
Yggdra then proceeds to pat the slime a few times before materializing a Christmas hat for it to wear. "I'm just here to let my little friend witness Santa Claus, in the flesh."
"Hohoho! Hello there then, little one! You're welcome to tour my abode as much as you like. Oh, right! Here." Santa creates some Christmas treats, handing them over to the slime that happily munches on them. Seeing the slime giving him a thumb-up, Santa laughs before nodding at Yggdra, stepping away to mount his sleigh.
"Well then, milady. I wish you a Merry Christmas and soon to be a Happy New Year! Hohoho!" With a snap and the accompaniment jingles, the sleigh is pulled forward by the reindeer as Santa's laughter echoes throughout the sky. As Santa makes for a few spins in the moonlit sky, Yggdra watches with a smile while the slime waves its 'hand' to say goodbye to Santa.
Finally, with everything checked out, Santa laughs a final "Hohoho!" before pressing a button in on a control panel in front of him, this unfolded a pair of hidden nacelles beneath his sleigh, and with another pull of a lever, the begin charging up. Five seconds later, the nacelles shine a bright blue light before Santa's sleigh is propelled faster than the speed of light, leaving behind two trails of dissipating blue energy.
Fascinated, the slime bobs up and down, gesturing in disbelief at Yggdra. The Primordial Goddess, however, chuckles. "Though reindeer serve as the main mean of propulsion for the sleigh, they're not fast enough. Hence, Santa installed a pair of FTL drives on his sleigh, and with it and his ability to be at multiple places at the same time, the Saint can deliver presents and charcoals for all kids in two nights. Even an old man has to keep up with the time, you know."
Understandably, the slime expresses its confusion. Never has it expected Santa's sleigh to have warp capability but it can wrap its head around the idea when it digs a bit deeper at the notion. Regardless, it just shrugs as it resumes eating the treats while Yggdra carries it around, introducing it to Santa's quarter and his gift factory. Finally, they move on to watch the light show, made by Yggdra casting polar light over the sky of Berlin. With the accompaniment orchestra, the light show marks one of the grandest events Belka is capable of holding annually.
And under the blessing of the polar light, Santa will no doubt bring great gifts to good children.
Or charcoals for naughtier ones. Oh, there will be naughties tonight.
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With a burst of blue light, Santa and his sleigh get out of warp, right above the outskirt of New York. It's snowy tonight, the weather that Santa always seems to enjoy, especially when he can see the warm chimneys down below. Parking his sleigh right, some hundred meters above a villa atop a hill, Santa grasps a gift bag from behind without turning around. Standing up and with a jingle from the bells, he jumps down from the sleigh. Like a cannonball, Santa lands with a hefty thumb as he sinks five meters deep into the snow. The shocking moment scares away an owl that has been perching on a pine tree nearby.
Chuckling to himself, Santa crouches down before with a "Ho!" he jumps out of the hole he... Well, quite literally, jumped in. Anyway, like the muscular Chad he is, with a flex of his muscle, the snow on his attire and gift bag evaporates into steam. Funnily enough, his pot belly is actually not because he is fat, it's because it's stacked full of cookies and snacks. Saint Nicolas Cage has a muscular pack that a lady can grind cheese on and he sure has caused many women to swoon over him throughout his years.
That aside, Santa has a job to do, to set aside a gift for a little lassie in the villa in front of him. He's just about to take a few steps forward when he notices something is wrong. Stroking his white beard, Santa says. "Hoho... It seems like someone has been very, very, naughty."
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Earlier, by around 30 minutes before Santa's arrival, give or take five. The villa complex atop the snowy hill receives its first guests of Christmas night. Jeffrey Iverson is standing next to a few of his bodyguards, in their hands are small wrapped boxes of Christmas gifts, waiting to be presented to the owner of the villa. Shortly after the doorbell has been rung, the door opened up, revealing a woman of African descent. Her face blooms into a big smile, showing her pearly white teeth.
"Hey, honey! Jeffrey is here!" The woman turned around, announcing her husband Jeffrey's arrival. When the man raises the red box in his hands up high with a smile of his own, the woman chuckles. "And he brings gifts! Come, let's get you boys inside."
Nodding in gratefulness, Jeffrey says. "My thanks, Ada. Hope we're not intruding on this holy night."
The woman, Ada, smiles as she leads them inside the guestroom. "Oh, it's no trouble at all! The more the merrier! We can even gather and sing around the fireplace, with drinks and snacks in our hands. Tonight is too fine of an occasion not to do just that."
"Then we will gladly partake in the offer!" Jeffrey laughs as he and his men set the gifts beneath the Christmas tree in a corner of the room.
Not being impolite to the host, they then move on to help Ada in the kitchen, having been here a few times already. There, they come across Ada's husband and father to their only daughter, Roman Conti. The tall man, also of African descent like his wife, is busy bringing out a finely made turkey.
Like his wife, Roman greets the Jews with the best smile he can muster. "You've come, good, good! Irish will be pleased that our house will be bustling tonight, hahaha!"
"Wouldn't miss this for anything, Roman." Jeffrey said with a smile. "Here, let us help you with that."
As the group happily mingles and sets up the large dining table with delicious dishes, a rush of footsteps comes from the floor above. "Daddy! I heard uncle Jeffrey is here!"
The daughter and mood maker of the Conti family, Irish, skips down the stair and into the dining room. She rushes to give a quick hug to her father Roman as the latter laughs. "That's right, sweetie. Your uncle is here and he's carrying big gifts!"
"Really?!" Irish turns to look at Jeffrey as the latter chuckle at her enthusiasm.
Knowing the little gremlin loves receiving presents, Jeffrey steps forward before crouching to the same level as Irish. "That's right, little Irish, we placed gifts beneath the Christmas tree. However, you must wait until later to unbox it. Instead, I have this one little gift that you would like to have."
Speaking there, Jeffrey reaches into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out a small wooden box. "Go on, take a look at what's inside." Jeffrey encouraged Irish to check its content.
With a bright and anticipative smile, Irish grasps the box but gently opens the cover, revealing a hand-carved wooden reindeer with a red nose. Fascinated by the cute design, Irish lifts it up to hold it in her palm.
Seeing her excitement, the Contis and the Jews join for a laugh. Ada interjects to remind her daughter about proper manners, however. "Sweetie, what would you say when you received a gift?"
"Oh!" As if only remembering just now, Irish exclaims before turning to Jeffrey. With a nod and the accompanying smile, she says. "Thank you so much for the gift, uncle Jeffrey!"
"Atta girl, now you best hold onto it, ok? I heard you can communicate with Santa through a little reindeer friend here." Jeffrey said a white lie as he pats Irish's head.
Standing up, Jeffrey receives a nod from Roman. "Thank you, my friend, you have no idea how much this meant to our family."
Jeffrey nods, clasping Roman's shoulder as the latter directed his daughter to the dining table. "It's but a thing I must do. You will also do the same to me, had I had a family here."
"I still can't wait for the day you find yourself a chick, man. All that works and politics with no fun," Roman pointed a finger at his head before making a few circles around it. "can cause you to go loco, man."
Snorting at his jest, Jeffrey retorts. "I will get laid when I'm dead."
"That or someone literally has to strap you onto a bed and get the deed done. Cuz I sure as hell know that Carla has the hot on you, man." Roman said with a smirk as they walk to the table, the seats are mostly occupied by the Conti family, its subordinates, and the Jews.
Visibly shuddering at the mention of the woman named Carla, Jeffrey scratches the goosebumps on his arm as he says. "Please, you don't have to remind me of her. Never saw a woman falling in love with someone's cooking so much that she literally offered to buy out the entire place and its owner."
Seeing his uneasiness, the whole dining room laughs at his expense with Roman goes on to say. "That's the power of Capitalism, man, they can drive people to do unimaginable things."
Jeffrey is about to retort when he notices a glint from behind a large window of the dining room. Trusting his intuition, he jumps and pushes little Irish down onto the floor while screaming for the rest. "SHOOTERS!"
Trusting Jeffrey with his life, Roman pushes his wife below and covers her. Everyone else also does the same, albeit too late for the sudden bullet hail coming from outside. With a cacophony from an unknown number of automatic gunfire, the dining room is ripped apart at the dozen men and women that serve under the Conti family and Iverson receives numerous bullet holes. Saved for Jeffrey, Roman, and his family, only two others survive the sudden onslaught as the rest are either dead or dying.
"We need to get out of here!" Jeffrey shouted as Roman, pulled out an M1911 in the process. The two surviving bodyguards also pull out their pistols.
"There's a bomb shelter underneath the fireplace! We need to get Ada and Irish there!" Roman said, earning a nod from Jeffrey.
Waiting for the moment when the bullet storm ceases, Jeffrey signals his men to turn up and fire at the approaching shadows. "Go!" He said to Roman as he conserved and pulled the trigger on his M1911. Even with the flickering light, Jeffrey managed to score a kill on the unknown enemy while the rest disperse under the sudden return fire.
Using this chance, Roman rushes his family back to the guest room. Pulling away the thick carpet, thus revealing a hidden door, Roman opens it up and reveals a small and dark tunnel, clearly made with emergency evacuation in mind as its leads to a somewhat cramped bomb shelter. With haste, Roman hoists Irish into the hole before helping Ada down also. Noticing their anxiousness, Roman hastily says. "Don't worry, we got this! Whatever you do, no matter what you hear, stay silent!"
With only Ada being able to offer a nod, Roman closes the hatch before covering it with the carpet from before. Turning around, just in time to see Jeffrey runs out of the dining room while reloading his pistol, Roman says. "Follow me, there are weapons in the storage locker!"
Running ahead to lead the way, Jeffrey and his bodyguards follow suit, making their way further into the villa under intense suppressive fire. Sadly, one of the bodyguards picks the short straw for the day when a rifle bullet over-penetrates the wall, cutting across his neck and thus causing a major bleeding wound. Jeffrey can't help but curse under his breath as he witnesses the man failing to stem his bleeding and dying of blood loss.
By the time they reach the storage locker and thus pick up heavier ordnances, the unknown assailants have breached the villa and are storming the interior. Unwilling to go down without a fight, Jeffrey directs his new Tommy Gun to spray the entrance to the locker room, cutting down three enemies dressed in black. Roman is doing much the same but he's holding a shotgun, arguably something very solid as deterrence in this close-quarter situation. The last surviving bodyguard for Jeffrey is holding a Springfield with a bayonet attached. Though not as effective in taking down the enemy, his bayonet earned him some blood when a few enemies rushes in with their pistols out.
Knowing that staying in one place equals death, the group of three brings the battle away from the storage locker, and if possible, out of the villa. Along the way, Roman says. "We have to get to the guesthouse! Get them away from the villa."
Understanding his plan, Jeffrey responds. "Good idea but how!? They're fucking everywhere!"
Roman is about to say something before a clanking is heard a few steps away from them. With only a split second to take in the sight of the foreign object, the bodyguard, a war veteran, shouts. "GRENADE!" He then jumps toward it, clutching the thing and putting it beneath his body.
Even with his sacrifice, the grenade still explodes mightily and bathing Jeffrey and Roman in blood and gore as they're knocked back. The shockwave causes them to be unable to respond as the assailants step in and restraint them both, kicking their weapons away.
The last thing Jeffrey can remember is being hit by a buttstock before he blacks out.
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Santa gingerly steps inside the villa, well, it's hard to call it a villa now when the interior is shredded to swiss cheese, mostly. Anyway, Santa explores the inside of the building, coming across the wrecked dining room but luckily or magically, the plate of biscuits and milk is still intact. Unwilling to let them go to waste, Santa lets down the red satchel he is carrying before heading over to have a bite of the tasty treats. Surprisingly, he's unfazed by the grizzly sight of the dead, bloodied men.
"Hoho! The lady of the house-baked good cookies." Santa gave his compliment after finishing the chocolate-chips cookies in seconds. Washing them down with a glass of cool milk, Santa lets out a burp in contentment. "Now to go and deliver the gift."
Returning to his satchel, Santa peers inside it and pulls out a big green box with a red wrapper. "A doll house for little Irish!" He then proceeds to place it next to the gifts around the Christmas tree. Giving it a couple of pats, he turns around before heading back to his satchel.
Suddenly, he hears a small, soft prayer, echoing in his head.
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Hiding in the shelter beneath the fireplace with nothing but a small oil lamp, little Irish can be seen shaking in the hands of Ada. Understandably, she is scared after the recent traumatic event and is worrying about the safety of her family and uncle. Knowing her daughter's dismay, Ada assures her child even though she herself is having teary eyes.
"Don't worry sweetie, your father and uncle will be fine. Here." Ada holds up the reindeer Jeffrey gifted to Irish earlier. "You can talk to Santa with this, no? You can use it to ask him to help us."
Though she said it, Ada thought that it will be a miracle for it to be true. Regardless, this successfully diverts Irish's attention from her fear and grief. Taking hold of the wooden reindeer, with the sincerest voice she can muster, Irish wishes.
"Dear Santa Claus, if you can hear me. I promise I will be good forever. I really, really don't need a doll house, I only need my father and uncle to be safe. Please, Santa, can you help me?"
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"Hohoho! Such a good child you are." Hearing the prayer, Santa strokes his beard. "For such a good girl, it will be a shame if she doesn't have a great Christmas night."
Once again, Santa crouches down and peers into his satchel, only this time what he pulls out is not a gift, but a hefty double-barrel shotgun with a red Christmas motif. Flipping open the chamber, Santa places two green shotgun shells inside before flipping the chamber back, the gun with the name "Niceties" carved on the side is now live and dangerous.
"Oh, it's on for the naughties." Santa said with a big jovial smile.
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Jeffrey and Roman, the leading figures for the Jewish and African communities in New York, aren't having a great Christmas.
Receiving a punch into his gut, Jeffrey spats out a bile of blood as he glares hatefully at the white American in front of him. His defiance earns him a snort and another punch, this time to the face, causing the Jewish to be knocked onto the floor, struggling against his bond.
Roman, seeing the state of his friend, screams at the white bastard. "Damn you beast of a man! Rather than beating a bounded person, untie me and fight like a man!"
Yet, as if mocking his rage, the American just continues torturing Jeffrey with kicks and punches, ignoring Roman raging against his bonds.
"Come on, brother! Stay with me!" Roman shouted, trying to keep Jeffrey's consciousness for he knew things will be much worst if Jeffrey passed out. "Bloody Yanks! Cowards, all of you!"
If look can kill, Roman would have killed these bastards a thousand times over. Fortunately, having grown tired of this charade, the leader of these white gangsters claps his hand, calling a stop to the abuse Jeffrey is experiencing.
With a cigar in his mouth, the man, with brown hair and adorning himself in an expensive suit, says with a cruel smirk. "Relax, Mr. Conti, for I truly think this has served a good enough of a reminder for Mr. Iverson."
Taking a hold of his cigar, he discards the ash before continue speaking.
"This is but a small... punishment. No one disregarded the offer from the Luca family." The man then directed a derisive smirk at Roman. "And if he thinks that by getting cozy with some blackies he could escape the repercussion... Well, he has another thing coming for him."
Pointing at himself, the man holding the cigar says. "Me, Antone de Luca."
Finally managing to catch the name of his adversary, Jeffrey struggles to let out a hateful snark. "Bloody fucking bastard!"
Sharing the same sentiment, Roman glares at Antone de Luca with the might of an African warrior. "Wait till I get out of this bond, we will see who will be punishing who, white face!"
Faking a scared face at their hatred, Antone mocks. "Oh, mamy, I'm so scared! These lowlives want to harm me!"
This earns the collective laugh from Antone's men, he then says. "As if you can do anything to me!" Antone said aggressively as he stood up to walk over to Roman. "You're the ones that got their charred asses handed to them. Best you learn your place... mongrels."
With a sickening smile, Antone holds Roman's forehead, forcing his eyes open as he presses the hot cigar into Roman's left eye. Roman screams and struggles against his captive as the burning feeling proves too much to bite down.
"ROMAN!" Jeffrey shouted toward his good friend, unwillingness marred his face for being unable to do anything.
Suddenly, amidst the hateful scream coming from Jeffrey and Roman, and the sickening laughter of Antone, a different instrument is introduced. One that proved to be deadly to an unsuspecting gangster.
*BANG*
Shocking everyone presented, those that are still conscious at least, a gangster's head got turned into meat paste. As his body collapses beneath the doorway, a hunk of a man in red is revealed in all his glory.
"Hohoho! You all have been very, very naughty."
Santa has arrived and he's hot on their asses.
Not willing to let them recover from their initial shock, Santa points Naughties at another gangster and blasts him through the window. With stride blisteringly fast, Santa arrives at another gangster that's struggling to raise his gun and give him a taste of Naughties' buttstock. The blow cracks open the gangster's head and Santa uses the poor bastard as a human projectile to knock over another pair.
By this time, Antone and his men have woken up from their stupor and started firing at Saint Nicholas Cage with everything they have. Yet, much to their dismay, the bullets disintegrate into wisps of golden light as Santa lets out a bellowing laugh. "Hohoho!"
After spending all of their ammo and being unwilling to accept that Santa can't be killed, the gangsters rush at Santa with knives and brass knuckles. They all punch and claw at Santa to no avail, as whatever they throw at Santa only leaves behind sparks but not a scratch.
"Standing here, I realize... You all are impotent as hell." Santa chuckled darkly to himself as he didn't even budge an inch under their assault.
Antone steps back in shock as he mutters, scared out of his wit. "What.. the actual fuck are you? Why won't you die!?"
"Hohoho." Flexing his muscles, Santa replies. "Perks of being a Santa, son. Invulnerability before physical trauma."
"Impossible!" Said Antone.
Regardless, no matter how unbelievable it is, the proof is here right before their eyes. As Antone steps back, muttering incomprehensibly to himself, Jeffrey and Roman watch on as Santa bulldozes through the rest of the white gangsters. Each kill he made is either bloodied or more bloodied, dying the floor of the villa dark red until finally, only Antone is left.
Unwillingly believing the situation that has been unfolding, Antone laughs weakly as Santa is now towering right in front of him. Throughout the entire ordeal, Santa is completely clean and uninjured, even though the body count has already reached the dozens.
Grinning dangerously at Antone, Santa shoves a cherry-shaped grenade directly into Antone's mouth, breaking his teeth before pulling the pin of the grenade. Without letting Antone struggle to remove the grenade that has been deep-throated forcefully, Santa hoists the gang leader up before throwing him out the window and into the snow. Dusting his hands, Santa turns around to Jeffrey and Roman.
"There goes the Naughties." As he chuckles, the cherry grenade explodes into a flash of fireworks, and to say that Antone is erased would be an understatement.
Jeffrey and Roman can only sweatdrop at the nonchalant attitude of the Santa in front of him, regardless of whether he is their savior or not.
Knowing that they are still in a state of disbelief, Santa laughs. "Hohoho!" Before disappearing slowly, leaving behind a cup of milk and a note.
Jeffrey and Roman can only share a disbelief look before saying.
"Fuck."
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Dawn arrives and to Jeffrey and the Conti family, everything that has happened feels like a fever dream to them. Yet, the glass of magical milk that healed Jeffrey and Roman, the dollhouse that appeared out of nowhere for Irish, the note that detailing Luca's operations, and the fact that there were two dozen corpses in the villa have basically sealed the myth that Santa Claus is very, very real.
Sitting on the porch of the ruined villa, Jeffrey and Roman direct their thousand yards stares toward the sight that is Irish playing around with Ada. Roman goes to say.
"Has the world gone crazy or I am still on an acid trip right now?" Holding out a bottle of whisky, Roman clinks it with Jeffrey's.
The Jews answer after chugging the hot content in a mouthful. "The former, thankfully. And believe me, I think this is not the last time shit hit the fan."
"Touche." That was all Roman can say.
Right now, the pair of friends, bonded through trials by fire, would rather much ignore the carnage that's being cleaned up behind them. Faintly, they swear that they can hear Santa laughing his belly off, somewhere.
They sure hope that somewhere is anywhere but here though.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Heartbreak01
Heartbreak01 Merry Christmas, everybody!
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