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Mall Santa:
A Fairy Tale
(Initial Draft)

Chapter 1: The Mall

	No amount of candy cane and gingerbread scent is enough to drown out the cigarette smell that engulfs Santa Claus.
	"Santa will see you now," I hear my voice drawl as I lift the velvet rope.
	My shoulders are tense, and my mood is sour. I unclench my hands. The bells on my shoes tinkle as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. The bell on the end of my hat swings in front of my face.
	"Hohoho." I hear Santa state as the little boy runs past me and hops onto his lap. A waft of whiskey breath reaches me.
	If the lady who hired me and Santa Claus Preisinger here cared enough about this mall to be here, she would be sorely disappointed with the state of affairs. Not just with the empty echo of the mall itself. Not just with the incessant lack of line in the 4 rows and 32 stanchions that I had to set up this morning. Not just with the clearly drunk Santa that has been getting me nasty looks from moms all day, but with my quite disappointing performance as his elf.

	It's not my fault I don't carry quite the charm that elves do in the stories. I was so desperate for a job this winter, I may have oversold my enthusiasm for dressing up in pointy white and green clothes. I told her Christmas was really important to me and nothing would mean more to me than to share its magic with others. Screw Christmas. Scotch Santa can suck one.
	"HOHO-" I hear him start before it turns into a flurry of coughs. I turn to see him coat the little boy on his lap with a layer of mucus before his mother can pull him away and rush him off. The bearded booze-drinker looks over at me, chuckles a stilted rhythm, then leans back and closes his eyes for a nap. I adjust my dress, adorned with many more bells, and turn back to face the empty mall courtyard.
	$12 an hour. That's $96 by the end of the day. That sounds like a lot. I look up through the dirty skylight that stretches across the courtyard ceiling. $12 an hour. That's 20 cents a minute. That doesn't sound like a lot. The sun shines diffused through the skylight, sitting stubbornly high in the sky. $12 an hour. That's 1 cent every 3 seconds. That sounds like even less.
	"AHEM." I'm snapped back to reality by the not-so-polite sound of a dad with his daughter. The man is wearing a nice suit and an expensive-looking watch. The girl looks no older than 8 years old, around the age of my little brother. She looks at me wide-eyed as I return to my senses. We stare at each other for about 1 cent's worth of time before I remember my line.
	"Have you come to see Santa?" I ask the girl with the little energy I have that isn't devoted to standing up. The girl's eyes light up with excitement, the dad's light up with frustration.
	"What else would we be doing in this line?" He snaps.
	My mind is split between responding 'It's just part of the script, man' and 'Bold of you to call it a line.' As a consequence of my hesitation, all that slips out is the next part of my script, "He will be with you in one moment, start thinking about what you want for Christmas."
	I turn and stalk over to Old Saint Liquor-las, who's deep in another slumber. I try to walk as smoothly as possible, but the jingles still follow me like a mocking, auditory shadow. As I reach his chair, I hold my breath. Too much time in his grand presence could make you fail a breathalyzer test.
	"Santa. We have visitors."
	"Send them over, sweet-cheeks," he says, his eyes remaining squarely closed. I could try to make sure he wakes up before he destroys this little girl's mental image of Father Christmas, but 1 cent every 3 seconds isn't enough for it to be my problem. I turn on my heels with a disjointed, metallic melody and walk back to let the girl and his father in.
	"Santa will see you now."
	1 cent every 3 seconds. Minus taxes. Minus gas. Minus lunch. I try to figure out what events in my life have led me down this dark, twisted path. A practice that has become somewhat of a hobby of mine. Today, I look back further in my life. Past the usual suspects of my family moving at the end of my Junior year or not talking to anyone when I got to my new school. Maybe the problem lies much earlier, when I was 8-ish myself. Maybe it was the day I got lost in the woods.
	I was going for a walk with my mom. Evan wasn't born yet; it was just the two of us. We reached a bench, and she asked if we could take a break so she could smoke. I didn't want to stop, so as she rested, I snuck away and ventured off the path into the brambles. That's probably when it happened. That's probably when I was swapped. I lost sight of the bench, and the trees suddenly seemed to loom over me rather than stretch skyward. And right there, alone and scared. That's when I was replaced. Replaced with a version of me destined for failure. Destined for social anxiety. Destined to be a mall elf for the rest of my days.

"You really shouldn't be wearing that during your break." Grey curly hair, a purple cardigan, and a tennis-ball-sized cane reprimand me. I make eye contact and take another large bite of my chicken sandwich.
"A kid could see you dressed like that; it would ruin the magic." The aged lady says, using her cane to poke my foot under the food court table.
"Elves don't eat lunch?"
"...n-no. They eat gumdrops and candy."
"Maybe that's why they're all so short. They don't eat healthy meals like me." I glance up at the clock above the elevators. 15 minutes left. I swear they speed up the clocks during my lunch break.
"This is no way to behave. And you need to learn to respect your elders. You should be ashamed of yourself, young lady." She gives me one more poke in the foot and waddles off.
"Don't worry. I am." I grumble. I watch her slowly make her way out of the food court, through the courtyard, and into the Sears. As she disappears out of view, I turn my attention to the rest of the courtyard. I don't see a single other soul. Only 3 of the restaurants are open, and the workers are presumably in the back, scrolling on their phones. Why couldn't I have pretended to be enthusiastic about that type of job? 'Making dry chicken sandwiches is really important to me, and nothing would mean more to me than to share its crispy magic with others.' Or something like that.
3 minutes left. If the clock can be trusted, that is. Miraculously, the trash can is filled. I wonder how much of its contents are my lunch breaks from the 2 weeks of this godforsaken job. As I compress my sandwich box through the hole, my arm elbow-deep, I spot Kris Kirch Kringle near the bathrooms. He's holding the hand of the little girl from earlier. They walk down a hallway past the bathrooms and disappear around the corner.
Huh. Maybe Santa is actually her grandpa or something?
I remove my arm from the trash bin and scoop the rest of my trash in. My eyes remain on the hallway.
No, the dad was a rich prick; he wouldn't bring his daughter to see his disheveled alcoholic dad dressed as Santa Claus... Where IS the dad?
I place my tray in the return location at the top.
He's probably in the restroom or something. Santa's watching the kid for him?
I take a few steps to the left in hopes of seeing them waiting just around the corner. All I see is more hallway. There's no way I just saw Santa kidnap a kid...

...There's no way I just saw Santa kidnap a kid...

I glance at the clock. 1 minute left. Well... I can't exactly return to work without a Santa Claus anyway.

As I pass the restroom doors, the green 'vacants' stare blankly back at me. So much for the 'dad in the bathroom' theory. I peer around the corner where the two of them had disappeared. The hallway is fluorescently lit, with the same eggshell white walls and tiled flooring that can be seen throughout the mall. There are no doors, and about 20 feet down, it takes another turn in the opposite direction. I sit there for a moment watching for movement, listening for sound, anything to spur my next action. All that occupies the space is the buzzing of the lights. I glance back at the cafeteria. No dad in sight. Well, someone's gotta look out for the kid.
Despite my hardest efforts to move quietly, the melodic tinkling of my dress echoes painfully down the hallway. I grab as many of the bells as I can and silence them in my palms, bringing the sound down from a bell orchestra to a bell choir. As I round the next corner, I'm met with 10 more feet of undecorated hallway ending with a large metal door. There's no exit signage, but the door looks like one that would face the outdoors. I approach the door and release one handful of bells to push it open. Or at least I try.
The door is locked. Or really heavy. I push harder to the same effect. I let loose the remainder of my bells and push with both my hands. Nothing. I ready my feet and put my whole body into it. The door moves slightly, maybe half an inch, but then slams shut again. Is Santa himself on the other side pushing back? Who makes a door this unwelcoming? I kick the door. Unsurprisingly, this does not work.
"Hello?" No response. I put my ear to the door and listen. I can hear the whistling of the outdoors, but no 'Hohoho' and definitely no 'Send them over, sweet-cheeks.' Maybe that kid asked Santa for an immovable door. Hell, maybe she asked Santa to kidnap her. Screw this. I take a few steps back and size up the door. I'll look back on this when I'm on the streets with no job and a dummy shoulder and point to this moment as where it all went wrong. I lower my shoulder and dash as fast as I can at the door.
The first thing I notice as I breach the door is the air. The hill outside the door creates a sort of ramp for the wind, funnelling it all upwards, directly towards the door. That was the weight I was feeling pushing back on the door. Wind. That is, however, not the air that I notice first. It seems that wind decided to let up the moment I collided with the door, leaving it to swing freely open. The air I notice first is the air rushing past me as I fly out the door, and the air beneath my feet as I go straight over the edge of the hill. The second thing I notice is gravity. The third is the ground. Then all of those things over and over in a circular fashion as I go careening down the hill. This is definitely how it all goes wrong.

Chapter 2: The Woods

	It takes a few minutes for the world to catch up on the fact that I'm no longer spinning. I wait patiently for it to notice. In the meantime, I try to take inventory of the aches in my body. I was worried about hurting my shoulder, I ended up hurting everything. Including my shoulder, which I can tell is what I landed on first as I started my long journey down that hill.
	Tall trees blot out the sky above me. The sun, still high in the sky, causes the canopy to glow a diffused green light down on me. A hallway that leads to a door. A door that leads to the top of a steep hill. A steep hill that leads to... a woods? I ignore my pleading body and sit up from my spot on the ground. It's lucky I didn't hit any trees on the way down. I could have gotten hurt. My body hurts in protest of my joke.

The trees are dense, each trunk a couple of feet in diameter. As I take in the clearing, I can't seem to tell which direction I came from. There doesn't seem to be any clear upward slope in any direction. In fact, there doesn't seem to be an end to the woods in any direction either. Just more trees...
Great. So I died. This is some sort of tree-filled limbo. I fell down a hill following a drunkard Santa and died. A perfectly flawed death for a perfectly flawed life. Someone will find me wrapped around a tree, in a bright green elf costume. They'll call my mom. She'll probably think I did it on purpose. Blame herself for not watching me close enough. My little brother wi-
"Don't cry." A squeaky tree to my left blurts out. I wipe my eyes and glare at the tree in question.
"I'm not crying, my eyes just got a little watery."
"Watery with tears?" The tree asks innocently. As I finish wiping away the blur from my eyes, I make out the form of a small figure standing behind the tree. No talking trees, maybe I'm not dead after all. They seem to be hiding behind the tree, watching me cautiously.
"Hey! You're that kid, aren't you?" I ask a little harsher than I planned, "Where's... Santa?" Recognizing she's been found, the girl steps out from behind the tree and into the light of the clearing.
"You scared Santa away with your falling." The girl stands only slightly taller than me seated. She's wearing a light pink dress, with white lace around the neck like a sleeping gown. She fidgets with her hands in front of her as we speak.
"I... I scared him away with my falling," I repeat incredulously. Success? Child kidnapping prevented? Now I just need to find her prick of a dad and...
"It's okay, you can find him. You're his elf." The girl reassures me, wandering closer to me.
"No. No, I don't think..." I begin the arduous process of getting to my feet. I can feel every single one of my ribs aching individually. I could count them. "No, we should get you back to your dad. You don't want him to worry, right?"
The girl stares at me blankly. As I rise to my feet, I get a good look at my own appearance. I'm covered in dirt from head to toe. There's even some blood mixed in. "Okay, how about we find your dad so he can take me to the hospital?"
"Santa can fix you." The girl says matter-of-factly. She comes close enough to poke one of the bells on my dress, making it ring.
"Kid... What's your name?"
"Cassandra"
"Cassandra. Why don't you just tell me which way the mall is? We can get your dad, then we can ALL go see Santa." I discover, shockingly, that my hat still sits atop my head.
"That way," She points, "That way is the way me and Santa came from. That way," she points in the opposite direction, "Is where you fell from." I don't know why I thought that'd work. Asking a kid for directions.
"We'll figure it out. Come on," I say, motioning for her to follow. "We're in a shopping district, how big can these woods be?"

"Why aren't your ears pointy?" The girl asks, easily matching my impaired walking speed. We had tried walking a little ways in every direction out of the clearing to no avail. With no other option, I tried to judge north from the position of the sun in the sky and set off into the woods, the girl at my side. "Your ears are round. They're supposed to be pointy."
"The point probably fell off in the fall." I check my ear and, sure enough, the silicon pointy ear the mall lady gave me is missing. She had said that if I lost anything from the costume, it would come out of my pay. Looking at the state of this dress, I'm not too worried about the upcharge for the loss of the ear.
"The points aren't supposed to fall off. They don't do that." She states with a noticeable amount of frustration. I can't blame the mall lady for the stipulation, she only had one elf ear to give me. Unless they sell fake ears individually, she had been burned in the past. I was told to wear my hair so it covers my left ear. At the time, I thought it was stupid; who's looking at my ears that closely... but-
"You're supposed to have pointy ears. Why don't you have pointy ears? Are you a fake elf?" The girl steps in front of me, blocking my path, and points unashamedly at my face. Her brow is furrowed, but her eyes look fragile.
I take another step forward, but she doesn't budge. I open my mouth to say something along the lines of 'Because Santa isn't real, and I'm just a human girl who can't make the right choices,' but nothing comes out. I sigh. I give her one more chance to give up on this line of questioning, then... "It's a rare elf condition. They call it Will Ferrell Syndrome. It makes me tall and round-eared."
Her big eyes stare deep into my soul. Her brow furrows deeper. Can she tell I'm lying? How smart are kids this age? I shift from one foot to the other, producing a short melody of bells. Finally, she speaks, "I can tell you're an elf. You have elf eyes. Sorry for your simdrome"
Fully content with the conclusion of our conversation, she turns and continues walking. I follow, trying my best to keep her in sight at all times through the trees. I have elf eyes? What are elf eyes? The eyes of someone Arctic-ian? She probably sees whatever the mall lady saw in me too. A fake enthusiasm for Christmas? Bangs that can cover my left ear? Someone who would enslave themself for little more than children's smiles.

"We're lost," she says. Not in the 'I-told-you-so' way in which things like that are typically said, but just as something worth noting. She's right, we are lost. We should have made our way out of these woods a long time ago. We've been walking, trying to keep as straight a path as possible through the trees, but regardless, all that has greeted us is more trees. I don't remember there being this big of a woods in any direction of the mall, so we are, to the utmost degree of true-ness, lost. But the last thing I want to do is stress the kid out about it.
"We're not lost, I know exactly where we are. Santa and Christmas and magic and all that."
"We're lost," she says once more, this time with a tinge of annoyance creeping in. I don't know how much longer I can keep using 'Christmas magic' as an excuse before she stops believing... Whether that be believing me or believing in Christmas.
"He- AHEM - Hello therrrre." A voice, gravely like cigarette ash, emanates from the woods. It grinds the last bit of 'there,' enjoying the dark sound it makes as it cuts through the now silent air.
We both freeze in our tracks and look around. The girl's eyes are wide and afraid. I reach out and grab her hand as I scan the trees. There's no sign of anyone; in fact, the voice sounded too far away to be within eyesight. They must have heard us talking?
"Come over here, I've got something for you two llllllittle ones."
"We're good!" I blurt out. Shit. Now they definitely know we're here. Is that bad? If they're a crazy person, yes. If they're... anything else, then there's a chance they can help us find our way out of here.
"You look losssst!" The voice quickly adds. I'm not sure if I'm more worried about how easily they could tell what I was thinking or how they somehow can see us in order to make that judgment.
"Okay, we're coming." The girl looks up at me incredulously. I know, I'm scared too. Just... I... "Where are you?"
Right as the words leave my mouth, the ground starts to swell. The grass beneath our feet ripples like water, waves emanating from deep below the soil. The trees tilt back and forth like the masts of ships, their limbs shaking as the ground shifts. I squeeze the girl's hand tighter, and she squeezes back as we try to stay standing atop the earthen turbulence. In front of us, the waves cause the floor to swell. A mound turns into a hill, as the waves are absorbed into it.
Suddenly, the ground splits, shearing the hill in two. The front half subsides into the ground, leaving us looking at the cross-section of the hill that was formed. And with that, the movement of the ground ceases.
Beneath the surface of the hill, now exposed, sits a large, dark hole. The hole is about 4 feet in diameter and sits at about chest level. Out of the darkness echoes that same hoarse voice, "It's sooo nice to meet you."
A clawed hand reaches out of the darkness. The skin is hard, with a rough texture of bumps and grooves. It grips the edge of the hole, the long grey claws digging into the unearthed soil. Out of the hole emerges the owner of the voice with a large, toothy grin.

Chapter 3: The Badger

	"Why don't you introduce yourselvvvves," Its eyes are large and green, with long vertical slits for pupils. They dart back and forth quickly between the two of us, not sparing a second for blinking. The same dark, boiled skin covers its body; a particularly large welt sits upon its flared snout. The smile it displays is filled with no kindness. The teeth are sharp and plentiful, the jaw twitching with excitement as it observes its new visitors. Poised within the hillside, it awaits our response.

"My name is Cass! I want keys for Christmas!" I look down at the girl in shock. Her fear suddenly absent, the girl responds loudly and clearly for the... thing, "And this is Sweetcheeks! She's an elf!"
"Excuse me??" I snap.
"I heard Santa say your name, so you don't-"
"Well, Cassie and Sweetie," Interrupts the creature, "I am the Badger, and I would be delighted to assist you. You said you're lost?"
"No, we didn't. And we aren't." I glare at the Badger. I don't know what its deal is, but I'm not going to take directions from any person, place, or thing that nashes its teeth. "Now, now, no need to be rude." It smiles wider, the edges of its mouth tightening into curls. "Don't you want to know how to get out of here? You weren't going to make it out going the way you were headed." It points with a claw, tapping the air slowly.
I follow its gesture and look into the woods. Trees. Trees and more trees. "And what would you recommend we do?"
The Badger chuckles at this, slow huffs that sound close to light growls. It stirs and climbs out of the hole a little more. Its claws sink into the grass as it encroaches on us. I stand my ground, the girl's hand still gripped tightly within mine.
"What do I recommend? Why, the only sensible thing to do would be to stay here. Right herrrrrre. If you keep going, you're sure to get even more lost. The only way you know where you are is if you stay stilllll."
"If we stay still, we'll never get out of here."
"If you go, you'll never be able to get back here. Another place lllllllost. How do you expect to find a way out if you can't even find where you werrrrrre?"
"We don't want to leave!" Interjects the girl, "We want to find Santa! Bring us to Santa!"
The Badger falters before turning its attention towards the girl. "Ssssssanta. Is this your friend? Well, maybe it'd be best to wait for him here. I can keep you sssssafe while you wait."
"Hey! Over here, shit-for-brains," I shout. I don't want that thing getting any closer to the girl. "We were having a conversation here."
The Badger shifts its attention back to me. It's close enough now that its breath reaches me. It smells of hot smoke and bile. The Badger looks agitated, but it maintains the same faux tone of voice.
"My apologies, was that rrrrrrrrrrude of me? I only want to make sure the two of you arrrrrrre content."
"We're content figuring this out on our own. We aren't waiting here like lost puppies. We're leaving." I take a step back.
"THAT'S IT!" The Badger growls, "You are not going anywhere. Do you know how dangerous it is out there?"
The Badger forces its body forward with tremendous strength. A combination of crawling and slithering, as it emerges fully from the hole. Its hind legs push off the hill as its large, meaty tail whips left and right, counterbalancing its movement. Seeing it in its entirety, the Badger looks even bigger than before. The creature towers over us, its long body giving it a snake-like appearance. The girl grabs my arm with both hands and hides herself behind me as the Badger begins to circle us. I pivot to keep myself between the Badger and the girl as it circles us.
"Your existence would be ill-consumed! You'd wander out there lost and hopeless. You would walk and walk and walk and walk and walk until you sss- starve!" It crawls around and around, its long body stretching longer and longer until it surrounds us once, then twice, blocking our exit from any side.
"So we should stay here? What good would that do?" I shout. Anger wells up inside me from somewhere I didn't know existed. "We'd rather die out there looking than here with you, wasting away. Wasting away until we get weak enough and you get hungry enough that you can eat us without a fight!"
"Yeah! And also you look scary! So I don't wanna stay here either!" the girl adds.
The Badger writhes with anger. It opens its mouth to speak but, overcome with fury, all that surfaces is growling and snarling. The Badger's outburst sends ripples through the ground, causing the ground to begin to ripple and shift once more. Its movement becomes more and more uncontrolled as it begins to throw itself left and right, smashing into the trees as they whip back and forth.
The girl screams. I grab her with both hands to steady her, as well as to keep myself from falling. Smoke shoots from the Badger's mouth as it roars in anger. The ripples in the ground only escalate, getting larger and more chaotic.
As the world twirls around us, I spot an escape from the madness. I pull the girl along with me, although she follows willingly. We run desperately and dive into the trough of a wave as it passes under the tail of the Badger. The Badger, amidst its thrashing, sees us leave the confines of its body. It lets out another smoke-filled screech and begins rushing frantically towards us.
"The hole! Quick!" I yell to the girl. We make a break for the dark opening as the Badger gains on us from behind. As we reach the opening of the hole, I use her hold on my arm to swing the girl in. I turn to see the Badger's wild eyes as she yells a frantic scream of terror before I dive into the hole after the girl. The entrance to the hole is swallowed up by the waves, leaving the Badger to her tantrum.

Chapter 4: The Giant

"You okay?" I ask the darkness. With the entrance to the hole shut behind us, we've been placed into complete darkness and silence.
"You threw me," the offended voice of the girl echoes back to me.
"Yeah. I did do that." I pull myself to my feet. The entrance of the hole was a slope, so we had tumbled quite a bit before ending up where we are. The second tumble I've had today. My bruises have bruises. I reach out in front of me for something to orient myself. My hands find the soft hair of the girl's head.
"I can't see anything," she says, locating my hand and holding it tight. "Can you?"
"Why would I... no, I can't see anything..."
I reach out with my free hand and find the wall of the tunnel. The moist dirt forms around my hand. Following the wall, I lead the girl deeper into the tunnel.
As we walk through the darkness, the tunnel bends up and down. The turns are long and arching, making it impossible to keep track of where we're headed. All I know is we aren't walking in a straight line. I make sure my hand never leaves the wall. Dirt crumbles as my fingers skim across.
We walk in silence; the girl's only presence is the sweaty hand that clutches mine. My dress chimes lightly with every step. The sound is absorbed instantly by the walls of the tunnel.
I hate the dark. I know it's a common human reaction to have, but that doesn't make me hate it any less. Some people say it stems from a fear of what could be out there. That's not it. Not for me. Anything could be out there all the time. Anything could be around every corner you walk around, too. Are people deathly afraid of corners?
No, I don't hate the dark because of what could be out there; I hate it because I can't see myself. The dark steals self-control. I probably look like an idiot right now, scampering, arm outstretched, lost. We could be walking in circles for all I know, wasting time until we starve or the Badger finds us.
"Are we there yet?" The girl breaks the silence.
"Wherever 'there' is, we are not."
That's it. We've been walking for... minutes? Hours? Who knows... Clearly this isn't getting us anywhere. Time for a new strategy. I direct us directly away from the wall. My hand leaves the assurance of the dirt tunnel. I hold my hand out in front of me, waiting for the feeling of the other side of the tunnel to reach me.
Nothing. We take a few steps. Then a few more. Just darkness. My hand feels around in the air fruitlessly. Is this tunnel a lot bigger than I thought? No, the sounds of my bells still reach the walls within a few feet. Did we happen upon another tunnel?
I veer us left in hopes of finding the wall. Still nothing. My outstretched palm is calmly against the cool tunnel air. I hate the dark. Did I turn too much? Am I still going down the tunnel? Are we going backwards? Where is the wall? Where is the wall??
"Why are we running?" The girl's voice trails up from behind me. She sounds out of breath. I slow to a stop. When did I start running? I can hear the girl catching her breath. I'm breathing heavily too.
"Sorry. We're almost there. I just got a bit excited." I hear myself say. My voice is small. I sound like a child. I hate the dark. My breaths are fast and shallow...
"I'm tired. Can you hold me?" I loosen my grip on her hand, and I notice she's been squeezing back. I shouldn't have made her run. I need to get a hold of myself; I can't be freaking out with the kid here. I crouch down and allow her to climb onto my back.
"Sorry about that. Just a little bit longer." I stand up, using my arms under her legs to hoist her higher. She's really heavy. She wraps her legs around my waist and rests her head on my shoulder. After I'm sure I won't drop her, I begin forward. My skull immediately collides with a dense wooden surface, letting out a loud thud.
"F*CK!" I yelp in pain as I stumble backwards. My vision is bright with shimmering white stars as I try to regain my balance without falling or letting go of the girl. "GODD*MNIT!"
The girl drops off my back and scampers past me. "We're here!"
A large welt has already started to form on my forehead beneath the green cap. I continue to mutter curses as I hear the girl find the wooden object and begin feeling it out.
"It's a door!" She says. There's a click, then a bright light shines on us as the wooden door swings open. I look up from holding my head in my hands. The girl is looking back at me, fully reenergized, with a big smile on her face.
"Yup. Told ya." I blink away the tears of pain and follow her through the doorway. "Almost there."

The door leads to a short hallway. There are no decorations, but the small construction gives off the feeling of an old home. The ceiling is a grey plaster and the walls are a muted purple wallpaper. A few feet down the hall lies another oak door.
"Odd..." I say, still trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my head.
"What do you mean?" The girl says, walking to the second door and grabbing the golden door handle.
"It's just an odd room." I explain, "I don't really see what the point is."
The girl swings out the second door, and we're met with a familiar sight. A short hallway. The ceiling grey and the walls purple. A few feet away lies another oak door.
"Odd." The girl repeats.
I walk swiftly past her and yank open the next door, hoping for anything but... a familiar hallway.
"I'm getting tired of this nonsense," I announce to anyone who might be listening. I march to the next door and swing it open. Another identical hallway. Grey and purple, with a brown door. I look backwards and see the several hallways we've traversed already. At least we aren't going in circles this time.
"Maybe..." The girl says thoughtfully. "Maybe the point is that you need a lot of keys to get through all the doors?"
She seems content with her answer, so I choose not to mention the lack of keyholes in the door as we stroll to the next door. Unsurprisingly, we are greeted by a familiar sight. I look back again. Five open doorways. Not sure where they would go, but I'm happy to see they remain firmly behind us.
We cross three more hallways. I let the girl lead, as she seems to enjoy opening the doors only to be met with the same thing on the other side. At the ninth doorway, the girl stops with her hand on the doorknob. "Odd."
"Yes, odd. It's really odd." I respond, looking over my shoulder again.
"No. The doors are odd. They're growing." She responds in her same thinking voice.
"The doors..." I look at the door. It looks as unmoving as I'd expect a door to be, "I don't see any growing?"
"No!" She says, this time more exasperated, "They used to be in front of me; now they're above me!"
"The doorknobs?" I look at her, hand resting on the doorknob. It sits a good bit above the top of her head, around my sternum. It does seem a little high for a doorknob, but was it different before?
Seeing my hesitation, she pauses, then she swings open the door and bolts.
"Wait! You little..." I take off after her. The running makes my head throb. She dashes through three more hallways before stopping at another door.
"See?" she says, pointing at the doorknob. The golden globe sits on the door at my shoulder height. I take a step back and look at the door. Proportionally, the doorknob still sits in the correct place. I look up to see that the ceiling is further away as well. It's not just the doors; the whole hallway has been growing. "Odd."
The next doorknob sits perfectly in line with my chin. I now lead the way, the doorknobs too high up for the girl to enjoy. As the hallways grow, they also get longer, making each walk to the next door take that much longer.
Three hallways later, I'm reaching above my head to open the doors. The sound of the door unlocking echoes through the hallway. The same purple walls now stretch high above us. The larger-than-life hallway stretches out with unremarkable grandeur.
"You could tell which key goes to which door based on how big it is," The girl mentions.
Another door. I have to reach as far as I can to get a grip on the doorknob. It's the size of my head, maybe larger, and turns with quite a bit of resistance. As soon as we hear the click of the door unlatching, the girl pushes on it. The door swings open slowly, creaking under its own weight. The creaks echo once. Then twice. As we step through the door, we understand why.
My neck hurts as I crane to take in the hallway in its entirety. The same boring hallway sits in front of us like a cathedral. The ceiling looms. The scale of it all makes me dizzy.
A bit of a jump from the last room. As we walk towards the other side of the room, the door doesn't seem to get any closer. The giant golden door handle sits far out of our reach. Not that we'd be able to turn it, anyway.
I look down at the girl. She's marvelling at the room. Her eyes sparkle, and her mouth sits slightly agape. She's adorable. It's a shame being cute has been tied to being oblivious. Makes obliviousness that much more alluring. If I were smarter, I'd think less.
Well, anyway... she hasn't noticed the clear dead end we've reached. We keep walking towards the door as I think about what to do. Not enough room to sneak under the door, no way we're opening it, and like hell am I going back into that tunnel. Who even needs a door this big?
BOOM
"AAAH!" The girl lets out a yelp as a low rumble shakes the room. The giant door rattles in its hinges.
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
The deep crashes continue to emanate from the other side of the door. The sounds are rhythmic, like someone knocked over the world's largest dominoes.
BOOM
BOOM
...
Then silence. The sound of the last impact echoes through the space of the room.
"Was that an-" The girl starts.
KACHUNK
With a loud mechanical click, the door's handle turns, and the door unlatches from the doorframe. With a slow, strained creak, the door begins to swing out.
"D-don't move a muscle..." I try to say to the girl. It comes out as a raspy whisper, too quiet to hear. She seems to follow my instructions regardless.

He stands as tall as the doorway, draped in business casual. Hundreds of feet tall, the bags under his eyes are big enough to fit a small child. He's wearing a creaseless white dress shirt and blue slacks. I can only imagine the size of the iron used to iron clothes that size.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT. I'M BUSY." His voice thunders. He speaks so low and loud I can feel it in my bones.
"Sorry! We didn't mean to bother you!" I shout, "We were just looking for..."
I stop as I see the giant looking down at us blankly. I don't think he can hear me, whether I yell or not.
"I SAID WHAT DO YOU WANT. I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO." He groans. He lets out a huff of exhaustion. His belt looks just as tired keeping his belly up.
"WE! ARE! LOOKING! FOR! SANTA! CLAUS!" The girl shouts at the top of her lungs. The giant continues to stare blankly. Has he blinked yet?
"LAST CHANCE. I CAN'T JUST STAND AROUND ALL DAY." He sternly projects.
Sh*t. Is he gonna close the door? Do we WANT to get into there? I try to see past him. It's just another, even larger hallway. What could he possible have to do?
"OK. YOU ASKED FOR IT." He sighs. "YOU UNDERSTAND. COMPANY POLICY."
The giant turns around with two loud booms, leaving the giant doorway open, then stops. He rests his hands on his knees and lets out one more large sigh. His left hand goes to the doorway to steady himself, before he begins leaning over backwards.
With a loud crash, his right hand lands on the hard floor. A grunt escapes him as he heaves his head backwards. His round face flushes red as he glares wildly at us. The pores on his nose seem bigger as he struggles to balance himself.

"Ok. Change of plans," I say to the girl, unable to rip my eyes away from the giant contorting himself. "What if we move, a lot, away from this... man?"
"YOU MADE ME DO THIS." He yells out between labored breaths. He moves his left hand from the doorframe to the floor, completing his inverted stance. With that, he lifts his right arm to begin crawling towards us. "I GAVE YOU SUFFICIENT WARNINGS."
"Yup! F*ck this!" We begin running back towards the previous hallway.
"I DON'T LIKE HIM!" The girl screams.
The giant's laborious noises grow louder and louder as he struggles to move forward. The walls shake, sharing in his pain. Despite his lack of mobility, he's gaining on us slowly. The previous door seems so far away, I feel like I can barely see it.
"GRAAAAAAAAAH!" The giant screams in pain as he takes another backwards step in our direction. The hallway cracks and crumbles under the force of the giant's agony.
"Wait!" The girl pulls at my arm. "There!"
The girl points at a crack forming in the wall to the right of us. Through the crack shines a white light. Without any more discussion, we both change direction toward the light.
As the giant takes another step, a piece of the ceiling dislodges itself and comes crashing down to our right, showering us in plaster. I scoop up the girl in my arms, hold her to my chest, and double my speed towards the wall.
"THIS IS COMING OUT OF YOUR PAYCHECK."
More parts of the ceiling begin falling all around us. The crack in the wall grows larger. The shadow of the giant consumes us as he advances on us. I shut my eyes tight and run as fast as my feet will take me. I feel the girl breathing heavily into my collar. The ground rushes past me beneath my feet. The giant's voice continues to reprimand our behavior.
BOOM
The giant's hand lands inches behind my back foot. I open my eyes as the impact lifts me off my feet and sends us flying forward. With a loud crash, the wall finally buckles completely, collapsing the crack just as we go flying through.