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Rikky lay in his bed, covers pulled up to his chin, feigning sleep. If his parents could see beneath the covers though, the rapid twitching of his tail would probably give away the young fur's anticipatory energy. At a sage age of twelve, he'd figured out the absurdity of the concept of Santa Claus, but he knew that every year his parents like to reserve their best gifts until he was asleep to place them around the tree.

His parents liked to think they were treating their only son frugally, but really, every dime of their substantial resources in some way went to keeping Rikky happy. He quickly figured this out, and played along; because he knew, they would do anything for their only son as long as they viewed him as their perfect little boy. The Santa thing was the perfect example, if he let on that he knew they were the ones putting the extra gifts beneath the tree they might stop, and there was no way that Rikky was going to do anything that meant he might miss out on the extra presents that ended up beneath the tree.

He smirked secretly to himself as he watched the clock, in return he fashioned his parents a few trinkets and finger paintings he had to do in classes anyway, and they just gushed over their 'prodigy son' and how he was bound to be a superb artist, or athlete, or pretty much whatever else he wanted to do. He knew the score, but still, sometimes his anticipation got the better of him. It became a game every year, to see if he could get downstairs *just* after his parents so he could paw at the packages and figure out what from his list they bought him this year.

His ears flickflicked as he listened carefully, the toothy smile of a young hunter, not trying to spring too soon. Soon enough he thought as he kept his ears tuned to the house sounds.

*

The warm light from the fire slowly crackling and dying in the hearth sent shadows here and there as the light leaked out of the large living room. Rikky crept down the staircase and around the banister, his feline eyes making the low light rather easy to see as he made his way down towards the presents. He'd heard the distinct noises of his parents shifting and moving things beneath, and he'd waited just long enough after the noises stopped so he could be *mostly* sure they'd already gone to sleep. That was part of the fun for him, of course, almost being caught, almost being discovered doing something he shouldn't. Every time he someone almost caught him it made his blood pulse a little harder.

As he poked his head around the frame and peeked into the living room, he finally let loose a soft breath. He was right this time, no parents! Nothing but their great Christmas tree, and a whole host of new presents gleaming in their fancifully covered wrapping paper beneath. The firelight gave the entire room a warm, but shadowed look, and just to be sure, he glanced around a few place to make sure there wasn't someone waiting there to catch him.

Nope...nothing, there all right! Rikky grinned toothily and made his way over to the packages under the tree. He snorted as he noticed a few presents from 'Santa' addressed to his parents. They really invested into the illusion of their Santa, just to convince him, not that they fooled him.

Rikky tossed aside the boxes, barely noticing they seemed so light they must have been empty in his haste to get to the presents labeled with his name.

Finally, he got to the first one, a small box shaped item wrapped in foil paper, carefully labeled with a note "From Santa" in handwriting deliberately different from his parents' writing. All part of the game of course. Part of that game was his ability to get into the packages without damaging them, that way he could open them the next morning and end up 'surprised' the way his mom and dad expected.

He carefully worked the claw from his thumb into the seam under the tape, biting his lip so he could carefully work at it without damaging the paper. He grinned widely as the tape came free and the folded flap opened beneath his efforts.

"Naughty...."

Rikky almost dropped the box, as it seemed a voice came from somewhere nearby him in an almost silent whisper. He perked his ears and looked around quickly, but all he could hear was the crackle of the fire beside him.

"U...umm, is someone there," he whispered in the quietest of questions, after all, he'd not heard his parents coming, and they weren't exactly the quietest felines around.

He waited a moment longer, but when there was no further sound, he worked the box out of the wrapping. It was a small, ornate, wooden box, covered in some kind of scribbled art or runes. Rikky barely noticed though, as he chewed on his tongue a bit, quickly popping the latch on the box and opening it to his view.

He blinked as he looked down into a small satin cushioned box. Inside were a small silver stapler, and a stack of staples. Some of the tips of the staples had a brownish tint to them.

"What's this," he wondered aloud, as he turned the box one way and another.

"Naaauuughty..." came the whispered word again, the word drawn out in such a way that the very tone seemed to pierce through Rikky's spine.

Suddenly he knew exactly what this was...one of the kids in his class had brought a really stupid sketch to school at the beginning of the year. Rikky had thought that if the kid was so proud of the art, he should be proud to show it to everyone who made it! Rikky had taken one of the school staplers, the heavy ones, and stapled the sketch to the kids' chest. The kid cried so much about how it hurt, but Rikky knew those staples didn't go through the clothes.

The kid had gone straight to the teacher, but Rikky just explained that he liked the art so much he wanted to see it all the time. His parents had called the principal, and there'd been lectures about being more considerate. Rikky had nodded where appropriate, and apologized, but he still thought it was funny when the boy had cried.

"I'm not naughty..." Rikky muttered to himself. He put the box down; he'd put it back in the wrapper later of course, or maybe just toss it in the fire, as he reached for the second package.

The second package surrendered as easily as the first, and as he broke the seal on the wrapper, a small gust of wind brushed through his fur and sent the fire flickering. He quickly glanced around as the shadows moved and shifted...it looked like one even...got closer? He shook his head at that nonsense and pulled out another box, like the first one, but this one was bigger, and longer, about the length of his arm.

As he opened the package, his eyes opened wide. Inside was a Louisville slugger baseball bat; the dark wood looked worn and used deeply, obviously old. In fact, it looked rather like....

"Ssssoooo naaughty...."

Rikky shuddered as he lifted up the bat and turned it, right there, under the logo, the bat was signed...just like that one his classmate had brought in for national history day. As soon as Rikky saw it, he wanted it and he knew he deserved it; he loved baseball. The stupid kid refused to give it to him. Rikky had yanked the baseball bat away and snapped it before the rabbit could do anything. They called his parents again and they promised to get another bat, one signed by the entire team, surely that would repair the damages, right?

"I'm not naughty..." Rikky said to the air, " He shoulda given it to me...he couldn't even use it, stupid rabbit."

"Naaughty...naughty boy...."

Rikky glanced quickly left and right, as he swore that *something* moved at the edge of his vision. He whimpered slightly, his fur suddenly on end as he tossed the box with the somehow whole bat fully into the fire. It caught nearly immediately, and the fire flared up as the box and the gift inside caught and stoked the fire to new heights, nearly dispelling all the darkness in the room. He quickly looked around and sighed. With the fire blazing, there were no more shadows in the room. It looked like there were even more presents then before though, and that quickly dispelled the boy's thoughts. His parents must have just bought him a replica, or gotten another signature or something, since they knew he wanted the bat.

He shook his head and stated quite firmly to the air, "I'm not a naughty boy; my parents say that I'm a good boy, and they love good boys. Santa loves good boys too." He stated, sure he may not believe in Santa anymore, but somehow saying the words made him even more confident as he reached for a third gift.

This one was extra big, so he knew it had to be something really cool. He worked at the wrapping quickly to tear it open, he made more a mess of it this time, but he'd just tell his mom and dad that he got up just a little early and he couldn't wait. They'd forgive him after all.

He barely noticed when the fire shrank down, almost completely extinguished when he opened the wrapper.

At first, he was confused; it looked like just a big wooden box...until he realized he was holding it the wrong way. He turned it quickly until it faced him, a puzzled look on his face.

The front of the box had a glass cover, so he could see right into it. Inside, on another velvet pillow was just something...weird. It was long, narrow, round and mixed black and pink. It wrinkled in weird patterns, craters and parts where he could see something white beneath it...and there was something white poking out from one end...with a dark stain underneath it on the velvet beneath.

He blinked and suddenly dropped the box on the ground. The glass shattered with a loud crash that must have carried through the entire house. With it came a sickly, cloying, kind of sweet scent, mixed with an acrid note that was a more bitter contrast to the wood scent coming from the fire.

Rikky's lower jaw trembled hard as the scent reached him. He'd smelled something like it before...and he saw something like that...

A girl, Julie, beat him again; she got higher marks on their weekly test. The uppity Siamese cat lorded it over him. She kept taunting him about being second best...well, who was she! She was a no one; her parents didn't even have any money.

He'd made sure to get her back though, during one of their art projects he 'accidentally' spilled some of the paint thinning stuff on her tail. He'd totally apologized for it though, did his best to get it out of her fur with another towel...but it too had something on it, some alcohol or something other kind of solvent. She'd turned away and told him he was a clumsy cat, and it was no wonder she was always beating him.

During science class though, they got to use Bunsen burners...and she'd let her tail get just a little too close. Her entire tail had gone up with nearly invisible fire, it smelled exactly like the smell from the box.

As she screamed and cried, Rikky had felt something...different though. He'd just watched her, while the whole class tried to put out the fire, and her cries had made him feel funny, in a very good way.

"Naughty...wicked...evil boy...."

The voice was clearer now, it sounded like it whispered directly into Rikky's ear. He jumped up and looked around again. Unshed tears shone in his eyes and his hackles stood as rigid as his tail behind him.

"S...she was fine...she didn't need her tail anyway," he whimpered quietly. He turned and started to head back to his room...surely this was a dream, right. He took two steps and stopped.

From the darkness beyond the light of the fire, two spots glowed like banked coals. He couldn't see everything, but he could make out a short, twisted form, something chitinous, black.

He spun, looking for a place to hide, but only then noticed that the fire was gone completely. There was still light though, it came from every corner of the room, from under the tree, from the darkened fireplace. Pairs of those coal eyes stared out from the darkness. Rikky spun left and right, but the spots of coal light against the darkness surrounded him.

The only other light seemed to come from the tree itself. There was some kind of moon glow twinkling on the packages, labeled 'Santa' in that ornate hand.

"S...Santa isn't real!" Rikky protested, "And if he is...he only brings presents...good presents for good boys and girls," he twisted left and right as he practically shouted the words. Surely, his parents had to hear him, right! They'd come down and rescue him or shake him awake; because this was a nightmare, it had to be.

"Ssssanta does love all the good girls and boys," a voice sounded from directly behind Rikky. Before he could turn to face the voice though an ice cold grip fastened onto the scruff of his neck. The touch of that cold hand stifled his voice, he couldn't even move, he could barely feel the warmth as his bladder released down his leg.

He could only move his eyes as a black, hard-chitin covered hand slid up and caressed the end of his muzzle. He shifted his eyes to the left, and could only see teeth, fangs, against a dark insect-like face with coal eyes.

"Buut you are not a good boy..." the voice came, hissing through fangs like the words were pushed through a hole-filled straw, "you are a very wicked boy...you are a naughty boy...and that makes you ours."

The thing laughed in a hissed manner worse, ever-so-much-worse than the way it spoke, and when it laughed, more of the creatures crawled from the shadows. More and more of the things approached with coal eyes, and dark bodies, claws, fangs, and teeth that approached from every direction.

Rikky managed a low, deep-throated whimper, a sound lost in the hissing laughter as the creatures all descended on him.

*

"Rikky! Rikky Dear, it is time to open presents!"

The tawny, white and black furred female called from the bottom of the stairs. She clasped her morning robe around her with one hand, and a cup of steaming coffee in the other as she looked up expectantly. When she didn't hear any noise from the upstairs she turned to face her husband, a once fine example of black panther kind, having become rather heavy and he carried the paunch from the weight of years and lack of any need for real exercise.

"Oh, shush dear...maybe he's gotten old enough that he's finally willing to sleep in to a reasonable hour," the older feline chided, while he savored his domestic routine even on Christmas with a paper (yesterday's edition this time,) and his own cup of brandy infused coffee.

"Yes, but he usually is here well before we are, he can hardly keep his hands off the gifts."

She glanced towards the tree, which looked pristine, just as they set it the night before. The presents lay neatly beneath in their rainbow of Christmas colors. They'd rekindled the fire so pleasant warmth filled the room.

"It appears this time we get to beat him to the gifts. It's about time." The old panther said with an indulgent smile. "In fact hun, why don't you go get one, let's start the holiday off right."

With one last lingering glimpse up the stairs, she nodded and turned back towards the tree. "I suppose...it wouldn't hurt."

She walked around the tree. They both arranged the presents so nicely the previous night she'd taken several pictures to commemorate the event. She knew the placement and position of every box, which was why a small, oblong package caught her attention very quickly. Wrapped in simple gold wrapped foil she picked it up and turned it over in her hands. It certainly hadn't been there the previous night; she turned the card open, and let a smile cross her muzzle.

"Oh, sweetie...you shouldn't have...you know that this year we decided no more gifts from Santa," she said as she turned the card and the gift towards her husband. The motion revealed 'From Santa' on the card, written in an elegant, flowing script that looked quite artistic to her eyes.

He looked up and frowned slightly, "We did...this year we were going to tell him that we were ending that tradition. I'm sure Rikky figured out who "Santa" was years ago." He tilted his head, "I didn't put that there."

She tilted her head the side, "I don't suppose...Rikky decided to participate? I mean, it doesn't seem like him, but..." she paused as she undid the foil wrapper, idly noticing that it didn't look like the cheap paper of the usual gifts, but rather full rich golden foil. It surrounded an oak box, scribed with holly and wreath designs, with a miniature Christmas tree on the top.

With a small gesture she opened the lid, and quickly covered a small gasp with her hand, "Oh...." she started, her eyes watering, "it's so beautiful. It must be from Rikky...I never would have thought."

An eyebrow raised, the older panther gestured her over. She approached and handed him the box. Nestled in the middle of the box, on a small velvet pillow that filled the interior was a small male feline. It was unmistakably their son Rikky, rendered in minute detail in some black material. The sculptor even managed to show off his distinct fur pattern through different textures and scribing on the figure.

"It is quite incredible...I wouldn't have thought he would think of such a gift," he said in a mildly amused tone of voice as he reached in and gently picked up the small figure.

He turned it in his hand gently; he only paused when he noticed wherever he touched the figure left small black marks on his hand, and on his fur.

"That's odd...there something coating it...no, wait," he muttered as he continued to caress the figure and more of the black came off on his hand, smudging the carving just a little,

"Is this coal?"