Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.
Today’s entry: Red Crown
’We are on our way’, the text said. It put a smile on Sam’s face. All his son’s texts did nowadays.
Who could have guessed the little rascal would stop rioting and grow up to become like his father. He even got SurgeRay for a little while. Impressive to say the least.
”Please,” the bearded man pleaded. “Let me go. I want no harm.”
“I know.” Sam tucked away the phone into his jacket. “That is why I am here. It is about time your people learned how harm others.”
“But Santa is the kindest there is. Santa and his elves can never do any harm.”
Sam raised his right eyebrow. He walked across the room, past a large door to the elf tied up on a chair. Behind the door songs were sang and machines were humming.
“You are partially right, you can’t do cause any harm. That is you nature. It is really a shame that one of the kindest people on earth found the red crown. Your elves on the other hand… Yes, they are the kindest of all our folks. But that is only because they obey the one wearing the hat. They abandoned free will a thousand years ago.”
Sam grabbed the elf’s chin and pushed the head up so they were eye to eye. The tears glistered in his eyes. He shook.
“These little rascals have been in so many wars throughout the years. Up until their leader got slaughtered on the battle field and their whole kind went into stasis. And then you found the hat, and the rest is something I told my son every year.”
“I don’t think I understand.” Santa tried to move his arms. The rope held him tight. “We are a peaceful people.”
“No.” Sam stretched into his jacket. He found the grip. He tied his fingers around it. He found the trigger. “You are peaceful. These bastards are close to mindless.”
“No… They are…”
The gun exploded inside Sam’s hand. Santa froze. As the trickle of blood travelled down Santa’s forehead, the sounds behind the large door stopped. The elf closed his eyes and became completely relaxed.
Sam smiled. A laugh tickled his throat. He let it out. He let it all out.
Once he gathered himself he took the red hat from Santa’s head. He watched the white tassel swing back and fourth.
“You are mine now,” he said and put the hat on.
The elf woke up. The tears in his eyes still glistered as he looked around.
“How are you feeling now my kind elf?”
The elf found Sam. Behind the tears a fire was ignited.
“I am angry,” the elf said. “I want blood.”
“I will give you blood.” Sam laughed again. The elf laughed with him.
And behind the door the song was of war, and the machines rebuilt the toys as weapons.
Copyright © David B. Johansson 2021