Crimson Noel

The cold wind swept across the snowy plains of the North Pole, a bitter reminder of the harsh winters that surrounded Santa's workshop. But within the walls of the great building, warmth and laughter filled the air. Elves worked tirelessly, crafting toys, decorating, and preparing for Christmas Eve. They had little knowledge of the dark secret that lingered in the shadows.

Sylas, a slender elf with dark hair and eyes that gleamed like polished obsidian, stood at the edge of the workshop, watching the merriment from a distance. His sharp, angular features were a stark contrast to the round, cheerful faces of the other elves. He wasn’t like them—not completely. He had never been like them.

Sylas was a vampire. Cursed centuries ago, he had found refuge here, among the creatures of Christmas, under the watchful eye of Santa himself. Unlike other vampires, Sylas didn’t feed on the innocent or those who had done no harm. His curse had been twisted into something unique—he only drank the blood of those on the Naughty List. Santa’s magic kept him bound to this task, ensuring that he never strayed from his mission.

Tonight, the scroll had come. The Naughty List.

Sylas’ pale hands trembled as he unfurled the parchment. The names were written in crimson ink, each one marked with a sin so vile it warranted punishment. Some names were familiar to him—corrupt politicians, greedy tycoons, notorious criminals—but one name made his heart skip a beat.

Graham Hollis.

Sylas had encountered Hollis once, many years ago, when he had been just another poor, forgotten soul trying to climb his way to the top. Hollis had made a fortune in the manufacturing industry, but he had done so at the expense of countless lives. His greed knew no bounds. He’d ruined families, taken advantage of the poor, and cared only for power.

And now, he was on the Naughty List.

Sylas’ fangs itched. His thirst stirred, the familiar hunger gnawing at his insides. He was bound by duty, but the call to feed was always present, always hungry.

He slipped out of the workshop, the world outside dark and cold. The faint glow of the northern lights shimmered above him, casting an eerie glow on the snow. His boots crunched against the frost as he moved swiftly, his elf-made cloak flowing behind him like a shadow.

He had to find Graham Hollis.

---

The mansion was grand, a sprawling estate nestled in a remote corner of the world. Cold, imposing stone walls stood tall against the winds, but it was nothing compared to the coldness of the man inside. Sylas crept through the grounds, his sharp senses guiding him toward the mansion's back door. There were no guards—Hollis had grown too arrogant to fear the consequences of his actions.

Inside, the house was dark, the air thick with opulence and decadence. Sylas’s eyes adjusted, allowing him to move silently through the halls. His senses tingled as he approached the master bedroom. He could hear the slow, rhythmic sound of Hollis’s breathing as he slept. The man was a monster in every sense—cruel, selfish, and corrupt to his very core.

But as Sylas stepped into the room, something else caught his attention—a soft cry.

Sylas froze.

In the corner of the room, a child, no older than six, was curled up in a bed, clutching a stuffed bear. Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyes were wide with fear as she watched Sylas from the shadows.

“Who... are you?” the girl whispered, her voice trembling.

Sylas was momentarily taken aback. He had expected to find only the heartless mogul. He hadn’t anticipated encountering an innocent child. The girl’s wide eyes, filled with terror, haunted him. She was part of this world of wealth and cruelty, but she was not to blame for her father’s sins.

“I am… someone who comes to help,” Sylas said quietly, crouching beside her bed. “You’re safe, little one.”

“Are you… a monster?” she asked, her voice shaky.

Sylas’s fangs gleamed in the dim light, and for a moment, he wondered if he was. His curse had driven him to be something darker, but the girl’s innocent gaze made him question everything. Was he truly the monster, or was it her father—the man who had caused so much pain?

“I am not a monster,” Sylas said softly, brushing a strand of her hair from her face. “But there are monsters in this world, and they must be stopped.”

The girl trembled, but she nodded, as if understanding something beyond her years.

Sylas’s gaze flickered toward the bed where Hollis lay, blissfully unaware of the darkness that had entered his home. The time had come.

But Sylas hesitated. The girl’s presence gnawed at his conscience. She was innocent, caught in the web of her father’s sins. Could he really bring himself to end her father’s life, knowing the child would be left alone with nothing but memories of the monster who had raised her?

---

The Choice

Sylas stood at the edge of the bed, fangs bared, staring down at the sleeping mogul. His mind raced. Should he carry out his duty, as Santa had commanded? Or should he find another way to ensure justice was served without taking a life?

Before he could make a decision, the girl’s voice reached his ears.

“Please… don’t hurt him.”

Sylas turned slowly, his crimson eyes locking with hers. Her innocence was a balm to his tormented soul.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice heavy with regret. “Your father has done terrible things.”

“I know,” the girl said, wiping her tears. “But… maybe he can change. Maybe… I can help him.”

The words stung Sylas like a dagger. Could someone like Hollis change? Or was the darkness too deeply ingrained in him?

Sylas’s heart wavered. He had been cursed to punish those on the Naughty List, but he was also bound by his own code of honor—a code that didn’t include harming the innocent. The child’s plea struck him deeply.

---

The Decision

In the end, Sylas didn’t take the mogul’s life. Instead, he left a message—a mark of warning. The blood he drank was not from Hollis, but from the shadows of his sins, from the dark magic that lingered around him. Sylas left the mansion, vowing to return if the man didn’t change.

The next morning, Hollis woke to find his life in shambles. His wealth, his empire—everything he had built through lies and deceit—was slipping away. The mark of Sylas’s judgment was all around him, a sign that he could not escape the consequences of his actions.

Sylas returned to the North Pole, his heart heavy but not broken. He had given Hollis a chance—a chance that no one else had. And as for the girl, he would keep an eye on her, making sure she was safe, far away from the darkness of her father’s legacy.

Sylas had completed his mission, but he had learned something vital—that even those who were lost could still be saved, and perhaps, even a vampire elf could find redemption.