The once sugary, kind, old Mrs. Clause has been kidnapped and replaced with her body snatcher double. The same clothes, a blood red velvet floor length dress with matching cap, are still worn. However, there is one large difference. The new Mrs. Clause loves dogs as much as a lion loves gazelle. Earlier today her bloodied form was seen in her small rustic kitchen. Her hands and mouth were dripping with the candy apple red of the dogs blood, small specks of which has landed on her glasses. Her ice blue eyes were filled with a wild hunger, for the sickly sweet taste of blood, human blood.
It was a cool, frigid winter day and Santa, the always efficient man that he is, had just come in from a long day in the shop. As he walked in the small cottage he and Mrs. Clause shared, he could feel something was off. He had noticed the offness ever since Mrs. Clause had come home from her trip to Zombie Land. He could never put his finger on just what was off, but there was something different about his sugary, sweet wife, something... almost deadly off. Shaking off his feelings of offness he slowly shuffled into the small kitchen where he could hear his lovely wife making another deliciously decadent supper. As he quietly poked his head around the corner, as if not to disturb her Mr. Clause saw something he never envisioned in his craziest dreams. Standing in the center of the small, rustic kitchen was Mrs. Clause, hands and mouth dripping with the candy apple red color of blood. The entire kitchen smelled or iron and Santa could now see the many dog bodies, drained of their blood all around the small kitchen. Santa gagged, he just couldn't believe what he was seeing, he refused to believe what was being presented in front of his eyes. Suddenly, Santa could hear a small noise. He peeked around the corner again to see that Mrs. Clause was singing to the small dog in her bloodied hands. As Santa watched in amazed horror Mrs. Clause wrapped a small velvet bandage around the dogs tiny waist where an entire piece of the small white poodle was missing, cleaned away the blood from the whimpering puppy, and put him in a tiny padded bed next to the tiny grey stove where several other small poodles were laying. Santa looked around the room, trying to find some sort of answer to the question of what his wife was doing. He continued to watch as Mrs. Clause turned suddenly and pulled a small white blob out of her dress pocket. As Santa watched the blob came to life, growing fangs the size of pens. He fell back against the rough wall of the cottage. He couldn't believe his wife had brought an abominable snowball into their house. Santa slapped his head in recognition. Of course that's why the dogs were bit! Abominable snowballs loved the taste of dog flesh. After catching his breath, and regaining composer he shuffled further down the tiny hallway to the bedroom he and his still sweet wife shared.
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