Chapter 12: Fight the Future

Wheezing for air, Mike fell from Christmas Future’s frightening embrace onto cold, rough concrete. Looking up at the spirit, it was impossible to see into the darkness of their hood, or to make out any features except for the pale hand that quickly withdrew into a long, dark sleeve. It was hard to tell if the digits were skeletal, or if the skin had simply withered to a thin, pale layer of flesh.

“Take me back.” He tried to stand, but his limbs were still weak from his attempt to manipulate the North Pole’s magic. “I need to get back to the others.”

The spirit said nothing, then pointed over Mike’s shoulder.

“Asshole,” Mike muttered, then rolled over to look. They were on the sidewalk just outside his home, the front yard empty of life. The hedge maze had dried up completely, the husks of his bushes covered in dead leaves. The front windows were broken, and a piece of plywood had been nailed into place over the door.

The spirit pointed again, as if urging Mike forward.

“No, fuck you. Your boss sent you to off me, I’m not stupid.” Mike stood, his legs wobbling beneath him like a newborn calf. “Have you seen your siblings? Not the hot one, but Christmas Past. All those centuries of Christmas, pissed on by a corrupted Santa Claus.”

Christmas Future tilted their head, then pointed again.

“Nah, I’m good.” Mike moved to lean against the stone wall surrounding his house, but Christmas Future seized him by the collar and dragged him toward the house. He kicked and punched, but the ghost simply shifted out of the way or moved so that contact was minimal.

Mike went limp, forcing the spirit to drop him. They picked him up and dragged him toward the house, but Mike closed his eyes.

“Even if you take me, I’m not gonna look! You can’t hurt me if I don’t—”

The air was knocked out of him as Christmas Future threw him bodily through the plywood. The wood shattered and Mike nearly lost consciousness, his brain scrambled from the impact. The spirit picked him up again and dragged him through the house toward the backyard.

Luckily, the backdoor wasn’t boarded up, which meant that Mike was able to twist the knob to unlatch it before he was shoved through. They were in the backyard now, and it was just as dead as the front. Amymone’s tree was a jagged stump, while Naia’s fountain was empty of water.

Mike closed his eyes again, but the spirit wrestled him into position and dug its fingers into his face, prying his eyelids open. He tried to bite the spirit, but the bastard moved out of the way.

“You know, I miss the days when people just told me my world was going to burn. Half expected to see it here, to be honest. So this is the future, eh? How far forward are we? Is Winds of Winter out yet?”

Christmas Future responded by shaking him and pointing Mike’s face at the fountain.

“Okay, yes. I’m so sad, everybody is dead, boo hoo.” Seeing these things would have terrified him, but he already knew that what the spirit showed him was only one possible future. “I’ll change my ways, time to go back, I guess.”

The spirit pushed him onto the ground. Mike got a mouthful of dirt, which he spat out.

“The future tastes like ass,” he grumbled. Okay, so the plan to depress him had failed. Shouldn’t the spirit have known that?

The ghost of Christmas Future kicked Mike in the ribs. The attack was so fast that Mike couldn’t avoid it, but he was able to twist out of the way enough that the attack wasn’t as effective.

“Oh, fuck, now I know why you didn’t find me earlier.” Mike tried to crawl away, his spaghetti legs doing him no favors. “You can see the future. You waited to nab me when I was all alone and would be weak—”

Another kick caught him in the rear, and he tumbled ass over head down the hill just past the fountain. He came to a stop, his eyes now on the gates to the Underworld. The lock was missing, and he could see the misty trees on the other side.

“Oh, you just screwed up.” He army-crawled toward the gate, eager to get to the other side. Whether his body or spirit was in the future didn’t matter. The Underworld would accept him either way, and he would come back with a fire breathing hellhound in just a minute.

Another kick missed him, and he managed to get his feet under him. The Underworld was so close, and the ghost of Christmas Future was hot on his heels.

Wait a second. Mike’s hand had closed on the cold iron of the gate when he remembered that Christmas Future could see all possible outcomes. Shouldn’t it be wary of driving him somewhere with potential allies?

Was Cerberus even on the other side of this gate?

Instead of passing through the gate, he waited just long enough for Christmas Future to catch up to him, then twisted to one side and yanked the gate open. The metal bars capable of restraining demonic hordes slammed into Christmas Future, knocking the spirit back. They fell on the ground, hood slipping down briefly to reveal that the spirit’s face was a smooth mass of flesh with holes where the eyes and mouth should be. A dark mist leaked from each orifice, pooling beneath the spirit’s body.

“Oh, fuck me,” Mike whispered, watching in horror as the mist tried to curl around his feet. He took a step back, tripping over a small object. It was the lock to the gate, covered in enough dirt that he hadn’t seen it. “You were going to lock me in there, weren’t you?”

Christmas Future stood by planting their feet and leaning forward without using their hands in a move that would have made Nosferatu jealous. The spirit made a sound like someone inhaling a tremendous amount of air, but Mike didn’t stick around to see what would happen next. He did a hobble-run toward the greenhouse that probably looked like he had ridden a horse all day and now had a major case of swamp ass.

Christmas Future teleported in front of him, its arms outstretched, but Mike was ready. The gate was proof that the spirit couldn’t accurately predict what was going to happen, not all of the time. In fact, it had only been a last moment decision that had kept him from going through the gate.

It was similar to what he would do while playing Slap the Cyclops with Sofia. Focus hard on one intent, and then do something else, or even the opposite. He could take a swing at the spirit, or try to slip past him, but perhaps those were the actions he was most likely to take.

Focusing hard on taking a swing at the ghost, Mike changed his mind at the last second and tackled the spirit to the ground. They bounced and rolled across the yard, the world blurring around them. It was the house again, but the fairies were having a snowball fight with each other while a pair of gargoyles circled overhead.

“So what’s wrong with this one?” Mike demanded. The spirit responded by twisting behind him and smashing his face into the rock wall. Not only did it hurt like hell, but the gargoyles dropped down from above and an alarm went through the house. Streams of magic coalesced around them, and Christmas Future drove its knee into Mike’s solar plexus.

“Oof.” It was the only comeback available to him, but everything blurred again and now they were outside the burned out shell of his home. Mike gritted his teeth and tried to suck in some air as Christmas Future wrapped an arm around his throat and put him in a chokehold.

The tingling in his body was replaced by the roaring fury of his magic. Molten rage manifested as a blistering frenzy of electrical energy across his back, and Christmas Future blipped out of existence with a hissing sound.

Gasping, Mike crawled toward the home. He didn’t know how long it would take before Christmas Future returned, but something important had occurred to him. These futures were only single possibilities from a nigh infinite number of outcomes. Were they just complex illusions similar to what Christmas Past could accomplish, or was he actually in these potential futures?

If the latter, then his family could help him if he could get their attention. He needed to be inside the house, just in case—

Christmas Future grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him away from the home. The spirit picked him up and tossed him onto a massive stone that appeared as the future shifted again. Mike smacked his lip on the cold marble, then leaned back enough to see his own name carved into the rock.

Mike Radley

Beloved husband, father, and friend.

He looked at the bottom and saw that it was today’s date.

“Nice touch, asshole.” He pulled himself over the headstone, just avoiding another kick to the head. Falling flat on the ground, he started laughing. After his dealings with Christmas Past and Present, he had expected a long, elaborate plan from the last remaining ghost. The bastard had even gone so far as to pick him off when he was vulnerable, but the plan had devolved into simply beating his ass the old fashioned way.

Christmas Future teleported on top of Mike, then tried to strangle him with long, bony fingers. Mike managed to take a deep breath, then released the banshee’s cry. Christmas Future fell over backwards, clutching at where its ears would be if it had them. Its whole body rippled, spilling dark mist onto the ground.

Mike made a break for it, but stopped when he saw that the house was gone. Instead, the land was empty, as if a giant hand had scooped it away. The danger sense formed in his gut just as Christmas Future barreled into him from behind, and both of them fell into the hole.

When they landed, the world shifted, and he was in his basement. Christmas Future did the creepy standing thing as Mike just laid there, huffing and puffing for air. It was clear that this was going to be a fight of attrition, and he was never even going to catch his breath if this kept up.

When Christmas Future crouched over him, Mike used his magic to see the spirit’s soul. It was impossibly difficult to comprehend, like staring into a fractal projected inside an infinity mirror. His brain was desperately trying to interpret the concept of eternity in a being composed of space-time, and his mind latched onto the mirror analogy.

“Eat my dick, discount Slender Man.” Instead of forming his magic into delicate fingers meant for weaving, he twisted them into a thick spike and jammed it into the mirror. The metaphorical glass exploded, sending each permutation of the spirit flinging outward into the room.

The ghost of Christmas Future screamed as the world tore itself to shreds around them. Reality spiraled in a literal sense, the two combatants bouncing off the walls as the room transformed around them. Cracks formed along the edges of the room, revealing a nothingness beyond that which hungered for the light.

Despite the intense shifting of scenery, Mike felt himself enter a trance, as if he was driving a car on the highway. It had been so long since he had even driven a car, would he remember how? Whenever he tried to pull his attention back to the broken world around him, some stray thought would catch his attention, or he would forget what he was doing. It was simply easier to just go with the flow and pay no attention to the beings who were watching him. His body no longer hurt from being caught in a temporal spin-cycle, and he assumed it was because everything faded out shortly after fading in.

It could have been minutes, hours, or even days. Eventually, the room stopped spinning and he found himself back on the basement floor, shivering from the cold. He looked over his shoulder, but Christmas Future was gone.

Climbing to his feet, he made his way to the stairs and walked up. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the kitchen. It was empty, as if nobody lived there.

“Great,” he muttered, rubbing at the lump on his forehead. When he leaned on the countertop for support, it felt strangely sponge-like. Puzzled, he lifted his hand away and saw that he could see through himself.

“That can’t be good.” He walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room. The table had the usual number of seats with the ghost of Christmas Future sitting at the end, a small radio clutched in their hands.

“You really are a creepy fucker.” Mike tensed up, expecting the spirit to come for him. Instead, it turned on the radio, filling the room with the sounds of static. Long digits fiddled with the tuning knob, filling the room with a cacophony of sounds.

“Mi ... ke ... Rad ... ley.” It was a mishmash of conversations and music, put together into a cohesive statement that Mike absolutely hated. Leave it to a time traveling ghost to pick the spookiest fucking method of communication.

“I take it you have something to say.” Mike sat down at the opposite end of the table, suddenly aware of how tired he was.

“I ... win...”

“Whatever, dude. I’m still standing.” Well, sitting for now, but whatever.

Christmas Future twiddled the knob furiously, and Mike’s brain stitched the words together.

“Your actions ... too unpredictable,” it told him through the radio. “Each moment ... too many variables.”

“Should have put that on my tombstone,” Mike replied. “Or maybe something mysterious. I’m thinking ‘Here lies Mike. Chaotic sexy.’ I’ve got a one-eyed friend who can tell you all about how I subvert expectations, but don’t expect the same treatment I give her. That’s a different kind of fighting.”

“Couldn’t guess ... outcome fast enough.” Christmas Future paused as if waiting for something, then twisted some more. Mike noticed dark lines of corruption on the spirit’s fingers. “Too many futures to see, not enough ... time to adjust.”

“Haven’t you watched Terminator? You’d love it. It’s all about humans pissing all over the concept of you. Where’d you get the radio? I would be much happier with a Ouija board, or a Speak and Say.”

The spirit paused, then twisted the dial some more. “Took you to an improbable timeline, but you spotted the trap. Am not fighter. Was only chance to ... beat you. I failed.”

“By trapping me in the Underworld? How would that work?” It had been a last moment thought back then, but now he was certain that Cerberus wouldn’t have been there to help. It had been explained to him once that the Underworld was multiversal. Even if he wasn’t in a timeline that made any sense, the danger to him would be very real and final.

Christmas Future nodded. “Very small chance, but had to obey ... Santa.”

“That asshole isn’t really Santa.” Mike leaned forward and scowled. “It’s just the douchiest part of him wearing his skin like a suit.”

The spirit sighed and went still. Mike wondered if their conversation was over, but Christmas Future lifted their cowl as if looking at him.

“Needed drastic measure.” The ghost paused, whether for dramatic effect or because the next words weren’t going to be right, Mike would never know. “Had to obey, even though ... consequences. Can’t take you back.”

“Excuse me, what?” Mike slammed his fist down on the table, and it felt squishy beneath him. “What do you mean, you can’t take me back?”

“No choice. Have to stop you before you stop Santa, but can’t actually stop you.” Christmas Future somehow found a sound byte of an audience gasping in surprise. “If I kill you, Krampus wins. Your family ... revenge. Christmas ... canceled. You had to die ... someone else’s hand. I’m stuck in paradox ... too weak now. Can’t fight any longer, can’t take you back. Christmas still gets canceled.”

The ghost nearly dropped their radio, but Mike noticed something else was wrong. The spirit had slumped over in its chair, more of that black mist leaking out of it. He inspected its soul, and was surprised to see that it no longer looked like a fractal, nor was it replicated. Instead, it looked like a tiny flame with ribbons of darkness attached to it.

“Wait a second.” Mike stood and moved a bit closer. “If Christmas is canceled, then ... you can’t be the spirit of Christmas Future if...”

Somehow, that fucker found an audio clip of Jabba the Hutt laughing in response.

“No, you have to take me back!” Mike crossed the table, his magic lighting up the room and touching nothing as he got his hands on the spirit’s throat. It didn’t even respond, going limp in his fingers.

“Can’t.” Christmas Future pulled back its hood to reveal that the darkness on their fingers had spread into dark lines along their face. Only one eye hole still had any white around it. “All of this has already happened. Must let ... events take...”

While Mike yelled threats at the spirit, it didn’t go beneath his notice that it dialed the radio to one more phrase.

“I’m ... sorry...” The ghost shriveled up beneath its robes, leaving nothing but a black cloak behind. When Mike tried to pick it up, it turned into black mist and oozed along the floorboards before vanishing.

Mike screamed in rage, then tried to grab the chair and throw it. Instead, it shifted less than an inch as his fingers passed through it. With the passing of Christmas Future, he discovered he could no longer interact with his environment.

He ran out into the living room and froze when he saw that it was empty. There was no furniture of any sort, the house stripped bare. What had happened to his family? Where had they gone?

Something cracked inside of him, and he leaned against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting. Tears of anger and grief rolled down his cheeks. Even though he had technically beaten the ghost, it had won in the end. Mike was stuck gods knew how many years in the future with no way to get home.

So many thoughts ran through his head at once that he felt disoriented. What had the others thought when he had vanished? Technically, he wasn’t dead, so the house wouldn’t have gone into hibernation ... right?

Staring out the barren window at a cold, winter sky, he heard the soft ticking of a clock in his office. He wiped the tears from his eyes and stood, then walked cautiously toward the room. When he stepped inside, he saw that the office was clean, all the furniture removed. A cursory look into the sitting room revealed the same.

The shelves by the window had been built into the wall, and a small clock that had been left on the shelves let out a chime. The bell tolled three times, and then resumed its quiet ticking.

“Tick Tock?” He wasn’t sure why the mimic would be here, but it was the only thing that made sense to him. He walked to the shelves and tried to interact with the clock, but his fingers could only stroke the surface, accomplishing nothing.

There was a shifting sound behind him, and Mike turned to see a man standing in the doorway, wearing a white button down with a pair of black slacks. His arms were crossed, and there was a slight smirk on a face that looked very much like Mike’s. Auburn hair with streaks of white had been pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a faded scar along his forehead.

The face, however, looked very much like Mike’s. It felt like all the wind had been sucked out of the room as he took a step toward Callisto, one hand outstretched in both disbelief and awe. His son was not only an adult, but he was also in human form.

“Hello, Father.” Callisto took a step into the room and rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscled forearms covered in thin scars. “Now let’s see how we can unfuck this situation, shall we?”

“I see a spot down there.” Lily leaned over the side of the sleigh, her tail hooked beneath the seat to keep her from falling. They were over Jamaica, and beneath them were the glittering lights of the coastal resorts.

To say that their delivery system had been truly fudged would be an understatement. The snow army that had been created on the east coast of Russia had been able to track them without any issue, effectively locking off anywhere in the Eastern hemisphere with snow. The Yule Lads and their blasted cat still tracked them, which had also hampered their deliveries. The sleigh, powered by Christmas magic, was no longer as fast as it used to be. This meant that there was a good chance they could be ambushed wherever they landed.

“Let’s try not to get sand in the sleigh this time.” Death tugged the reins, and Cerberus descended. They landed next to a rooftop pool where Lily hopped out of the sleigh and onto the back of Dancer.

The reindeer’s arrival had been a pleasant surprise, but not as much as Christmas Present’s. The giant ghost sat on top of Santa’s bag, her arms buried deep as she pulled out gifts and handed them over to Lily along with a list.

“These are for the first floor,” she said, then swatted Dancer on the hindquarters. Lily held onto the reindeer with her tail as they turned into a silvery mist and rocketed to the ground floor. Without her tail, there was no way Lily could have stayed on the reindeer’s back.

Dancer, her body smaller than usual, kept watch in the hallway as Lily ran from room to room, tucking gifts beneath fake trees or just beneath pillows for kids who were traveling with families. Other than double checking her list, the only thing she kept her eye out for was trouble.

Once the first floor was done, she hopped on Dancer’s back and they flew back to the roof. Christmas Present stood on the sleigh, her eyes scanning the rooftops.

“Done with the first floor.” Lily held her arms out.

Christmas Present pulled a massive box out of the bag and handed it over. “It’s the castle from the movie that just came out,” she explained. “Hard to find this year.”

“How the heck are they gonna get this home?” Lily asked, stretching her arms wide. “Hardly seems practical.”

“I’m surprised. You’re the last person I would expect to complain about a big load.” The spirit licked her lips and Lily’s little demon heart fluttered. Not only was this ghost sexy as heck, but she smelled so much like Mike that Lily couldn’t help but feel a mutual attraction. Christmas Present kept flirting with her, which had been frustrating enough without an opportunity to act on it.

She also wasn’t sure her Helper’s Hat would let her. Swearing was a big no-no, and it seemed likely that a little light penetration was off the table as well.

“After we’re done here, you and I can discuss who can handle the bigger load.” Vague innuendo was the best Lily could hope for.

Christmas Present smiled, but there was a sadness behind it. “You’d better get a move on,” she said, then turned her attention to the edge of the roof. Death climbed over the side, his robes dripping wet.

“What happened to you?” Lily asked.

“The presidential suite is poorly lit and has a pond inside,” he replied, shaking himself off. “But do not fear, the presents were safely delivered and the koi are unharmed.”

When Christmas Present had first arrived, she had been able to grab massive armfuls of presents and deliver them by teleporting into homes. However, the Yule Lads almost always showed up within minutes, which made everyone suspect that the Krampus was somehow tracing her magic. Now it fell on the giant to protect the sleigh while Death and Lily handled deliveries. Ever since adopting this method, the chances of running into those jerks had gone down significantly, but their delivery time was slow again without the giant to do the heavy lifting.

“Trade with me while you dry off.” Christmas Present hopped off the sleigh with an armful of gifts. She couldn’t teleport, but was capable of delivering gifts the old fashioned way.

“Thank you.” Death reached into the sleigh and pulled out a bat. “I shall protect them with every bone in my body.”

Cerberus turned to look at the Reaper and snorted, then made eye contact with Lily. Other than cracking a few heads, Death didn’t have many options. Cerberus, on the other hand, had ripped more than a few Yule Lads into tiny pieces. Apparently they tasted awful.

“Howl if anything happens.” Lily kicked her feet and Dancer was off.

They spent hours traveling Jamaica, and then moved to Haiti. They no longer followed any sort of logical flight plan, hoping to dissuade their pursuers. It seemed to be working. Lily hoped that the snow army would be unable to cross over to the Americas, making the western hemisphere of the world easier to deal with.

As for what to do with all the undelivered gifts, she had no idea. They would have to go back at some point, but that was a mess for later. Things had been tense enough for the last few weeks that Christmas Present hadn’t dared run any more messages to the North Pole. Her brief trip early on had been almost a day from Lily’s perspective.

Because of the warm, humid climate, Death’s robes remained wet enough that he was put on permanent sleigh duty until they could find a fire for him to dry off. He had argued, but without the spare bag, the only way for him to carry gifts was to hold them in his damp arms and that simply wasn’t feasible.

Back to island hopping, they landed on the biggest building they could find and set up watch from there. Cerberus would sometimes transform back into a human to keep their profile low if the building wasn’t that tall. It wouldn’t be hard for the Yule Lads to spot the massive hellhound from the ground.

Plenty of smaller towns and villages were without a proper landing site, so Lily and Christmas Present would wait for Death to toss gifts down to them, then run from door to door to get the presents delivered.

They worked their way south, eventually landing in Barbados. Death asked if they could keep an eye out for some tea, as he was quite tired of hot cocoa at this point. Some of the enthusiasm of delivering presents had dimmed, but Lily imagined that was because he was stuck in the sleigh. For him, the joy was in seeing the world and actually placing the presents, not in acting as middle management.

It was in one of the fancier resorts on the southern coast that Lily stopped to take a break. It was a family resort, and plenty of kids had been brought along to celebrate Christmas by the ocean. The months or maybe even years all caught up with her, and she slumped against a nearby wall.

She missed Mike. Other than brief interludes in the Dreamscape, the real Mike was still at the North Pole, doing whatever or whoever. There had been a few more Santa stops, but nothing too drastic. Read a book to Tanisha, give Andre advice on how to handle bullies, things that probably could have been handled by their parents.

Staring out at the water, she was surprised when a pair of hands wrapped around her waist from behind. The strong scent of candy canes surrounded her as Christmas Present put her chin on Lily’s shoulder.

“Caught you slacking,” she whispered in Lily’s ear.

“Hardly.” Lily morphed backward through her own body, her back becoming her front so that she now faced the giant. “I’m fairly certain labor laws would claim I have a right to a break. I’ve been busting my butt for your boss, and now that we aren’t being bothered by the Reject Potatoheads, it’s time for a breather.”

“I see.” Christmas Present’s eyes lingered on Lily, and she broke into a grin. “Maybe you’re right. A break is long overdue.”

The ghost gave off a growing sexual energy that surprised Lily. Other than the occasional flirting, she hadn’t detected anything tangible from the spirit.

“Can I tell you something?” Christmas Present ran her hands up Lily’s waist, then placed one on Lily’s breast. The hand was big enough that Lily’s boob vanished beneath it. “You’ve been on my mind all day.”

“It’s been a long fudging day,” Lily muttered.

“It’s the best day of the year.” The spirit paused for a moment, admiring Lily’s decolletage. “When I was born this morning, I thought that my life would be a simple collection of festivities and love. I hardly expected to be conscripted into the war on Christmas. When the Krampus corrupted me, I was allowed a brief moment of fear before being forced to obey. But a miracle happened, and it’s all thanks to that man of yours. His magic gave me a chance to escape, to live the life I was destined for. Not only that, he showed me ... things that fell outside my expectations.”

“He has a habit of doing that.” Lily pointed up at the roof. “Cerberus used to be a regular hellhound until they met him.” It was okay to say the H-word when referring to Cerberus. It wasn’t a swear word when she used it like that.

“It was that magic of his. I was pure potential, hunting him down in the vents of the North Pole, when I got a full dose of his magic. It changed me, making me into the woman I am. Gave me an appreciation for...” Christmas Present paused, then stared hard into Lily’s eyes as she rubbed Lily’s nipple through her top. “The finer things.”

“Oh? And I’m one of those finer things?”

The spirit’s eyes were full of hunger. “There’s something you should know about me. You see, I only live for one day. And it is a glorious day. When time restarts, I will travel the world, be everywhere at once as people wake up to discover these gifts we’ve brought them. I’ll enjoy the finest meals, the most wonderful company, and when the day is over ... I shall die.”

“What?” Lily hadn’t expected that.

“It’s how the ghosts of Christmas Past are born. Everything about this day will be burned into me. I’m just the paper on which today’s story will be written, and when my day is done, I shall be folded up and put on the shelf.” Christmas Present slid her hand down Lily’s body, then rubbed her crotch through the lightweight pajama pants the succubus now wore. It was hot in the tropics, and she had gone with something comfortable. “I would prefer to have a few memories of my own.”