Funny, how the mind worked. Sunset Shimmer had seen the Christmas decorations her apartment put up since October, but never actually noticed them until today. Not that there was much to notice: a few green plastic sprigs lazily taped up in the hallway, lost and consumed by the mottled brown of the walls, floor, and ceiling. Old speakers played the same corporate-approved songs she had endured in her last three weeks of part-time hell flipping burgers at the mall.
With the holiday rush more-or-less over two days before Christmas, in true spirit of the season Sunset’s manager gave her time off for the holiday. And all the days after. Firing people now meant not having to pay them during the slower weeks. Things would pick up again after New Years and they would desperately ring her to come back. Sunset would haggle a hiring bonus, and the dance of the Sugar Plum Gig Economy would go on.
Except she might not call back this time, depending on how things go. She put key to her door, rammed her shoulder to force it open, and stepped inside.
It was always a breath of fresh air to come home. Literally. The weed-and-cigarette mix of the hall vanished to a smell of pleasant nothing, mingled with the light peppermint of Adagio’s perfume. Festive, though it was her favorite year-round. And as for the absence of other smells, learning Adagio was a neat-freak was one of many happy surprises when they made the plunge and moved in together.
Adagio had heard her approach. She greeted Sunset wearing a bathrobe and possibly nothing else, holding mistletoe above her and duck-facing until she saw Sunset’s uniform – dark blue, black boots, aluminum badge.
“Oh, hell yeah.” Adagio fell back into a chair, pressing her wrists together and offering them up. “Handcuff me, officer. I’ve been a naughty widdle siren, backsliding on my reformation. I need a big strong police dyke to punish me.”
“Down, girl.” Sunset chuckled, kissing Adagio hello. “It’s for my new job. Orientation was today.”
Adagio cast a much more critical eye over her. “Seriously? That looks like it came from a cheap Halloween store. Did you at least get a hat?”
“Nope,” Sunset said, plucking at her button-down shirt. “I think there’s more starch than cotton in this thing.”
“Mall job let you go?”
Sunset shrugged. “Yeah, but no real loss. Santa’s Singalong is giving a holiday bonus and time-and-a-half for starting Christmas Eve.”
Adagio raised one eyebrow high. “Santa’s who what now?”
“Yeah, it’s like a Christmas-themed party center.” Sunset paused before going on. “Rather, it was. Maybe? There were like murders or something a few years ago and it’s been closed since, but never shut down for good. I think the owners have been gearing up for a grand-reopening, but whatever, on my end it’s just a security gig.”
“On Christmas Eve.” The poof-haired siren gave her best pouty-face.
“Adagio, we have literally no plans other than getting Chinese tomorrow night and mooching off the Apples’ party on Christmas Day.”
The pout deepened, then abruptly cleared. “The plan still works. Let’s hang out while you’re on guard duty.”
“Seriously? It’s a third-shift watch.”
“Seriously!” Adagio cheered. “Christmas Eve in an abandoned party center with a mysterious past, with no law watching except my own lover? It’ll be fun, we can hang and talk and cuddle. Unless you’d rather be bored out of your mind for eight hours.”
“Fine, you sold me.” Sunset pulled off her shirt. Maybe a run in the wash would make it marginally less uncomfortable. She began gathering their other laundry, talking as she went. “We should pick up the Chinese on our way so it doesn’t get cold. Oh, and we should stay up late tonight so...”
A pair of bright yellow arms wrapped around her from behind. Large breasts pushed against her back, and warm breath tickled up her spine as Adagio rested her face into Sunset.
“I’m sorry you have to do all this,” Adagio murmured. “One day I’ll stop singing for Whotube and start singing for crowds. We’ll make it big, and you won’t have to work another day in your life.”
That was Adagio’s way – she could be vulnerable around Sunset, but didn’t want to be seen. When Sunset moved to face her, a pair of full lips interrupted and all she saw was stars.
The day’s turn and the fifty-minute drive gave Adagio plenty of time to reclaim her footing. She lounged next to Sunset with her feet on the dashboard, thumbing through her phone.
“Where was that site… here it is. Four years ago a psycho dressed up as Santa and attacked a bunch of kids there. He killed four people before the cops shot him dead on the animatronic Nativity scene.”
“I’m not sure what the weirdest part of that story is,” Sunset said as a red light stopped them on an empty intersection.
“It gets better. There were crazy problems with the animatronics when they reopened. They had this Santa’s sleigh bolted down for pictures with Rudolph hitched to it. He’s just supposed to stand there and talk, but he started trying to run with the harness and tore himself apart in front of the kids. The robot Santa would always call people by the psycho’s name. They had to shut down the no-rails train ride because it kept trying to drive people off Wish-a-Star balcony, and a weird Krampus animatronic no one could explain kept appearing around the building.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. You know what the really weird part is?”
“What?”
Adagio tilted her head to grin sidelong at Sunset. “I made that up.”
The light turned green. Sunset kept her eyes on the road. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Love you too, babe.” Adagio kissed in her direction. “Except for the psycho thing, that one was real. Nothing happened next year except a fire on Christmas Eve that only killed the security guard, who was weirdly found holding a gas can so people wonder if and why he set it himself.”
“I’m not listening,” Sunset grumbled.
“Hey that one might be real!”
“Deck the halls with boughs of holly, falalalala-lala-la-la...”
Their good-natured bickering went on until they pulled into the snowy parking lot. Santa’s Singalong proved a huge concrete structure painted in imitation of candied gingerbread, so chipped and worn it seemed moldy. Plaster elves poked their heads from painted windows, long exposure to rain having carved deep gouges like tears beneath their eyes.
They were not in a wonderful part of town. Adagio glanced over her shoulder as they approached, then grimaced when Sunset heaved open the door to reveal pitch black inside.
“No second-shift guard?” she asked.
“Nope.” Sunset turned on her company-issued flashlight, guiding them to a deserted ticket booth. “I think they’re mostly worried about break-ins at night.”
She found a large lever and gave it a tug. Light immediately cascaded through the office and beyond – the waiting room, the hall, and more. Cheerful noises began sounding from deeper in the building. Right behind the ticket booth was Sunset’s office, such as it was. Room enough for two chairs and a handful of black-and-white monitors.
Adagio laughed, examining the screens while Sunset stored their coats. “Two on different entrances, one on a Santa, and one on an animatronic Nativity set.”
She pointed to the image where a shepherd, angel, and three holier figures nodded and gestured in endless repetition. Along with a sign reading ‘Pictures – $10.00.’
“First off: cringe. Second, let’s take a selfie with Jesus.”
“Wait for me to clock in, Ye Faithful.”
Sunset swiped her punch card and tapped a few bottoms on the ancient computer. By the time they stepped outside, Adagio caught herself.
“Wait, never mind. Those monitors would bust us.”
Sunset laughed. “One, there’s no way those fossils can actually record anything. And two, the worst they can do is fire me and honestly I don’t see this gig lasting beyond the month.”
They moved deeper into the building, now brightly-lit all from that one lever. Mysterious sounds guided them down the holly-strewn hall to the first game room – and their jaws hit the floor.
It was alive. Arcade machines beeped and whirred, air hockey tables hummed with power. Popcorn erupted in a clear box at “Frosty’s Snack Stop.” An animatronic Santa gave the most Santa-like laugh they had ever heard, seated in a clear place of honor in the center of the room. Other stages showed Rudolph, the Nativity, and a band of elves with instruments jerkily moving to the tune of… the same corporate-approved Christmas songs playing everywhere else.
Sunset forced Adagio to keep discipline, though in truth she barely held her own. A quick check on the outside doors and windows, making sure everything was locked and closed. Technically she was to make those rounds once an hour, and watch the monitors in-between.
She would try to remember to do the former. For now there was something more important to do, and that was run around like maniacs trying to see it all. There was a laser-tag court, though alas the equipment was locked up. Way cooler was an outdoor balcony where the hot chocolate machines were stocked, ready, and powered.
“Maybe they had planned to open for this season and it fell through,” Sunset ventured. Neither really cared. The view wasn’t half bad, and the chocolate was delicious. They then went to the snack bar to conscientiously wash their mugs and ended up throwing a pizza in the oven. Their lukewarm Chinese would make fair leftovers. Fountain slushies washed down the late dinner, and then the arcade was their oyster. Sunset found some tokens in the security office and creatively decided her duty included testing the machines. They played ski-ball and air hockey, pausing to take selfies with the weird Krampus animatronic by the hockey table.
Sunset lost track of Adagio in all the excitement. She walked to the center stage for a selfie with Santa. Gears inside whirred as the animatronic looked to her, steered by some motion sensor.
The beard moved in time with the words, with a crackling undertone as an old speaker came to life. “Have you been good, Billy?”
Maybe it was the last customer. “Wrong number, Santa.”
“Let me guess, Billy. Is red your favorite color?”
“Screwy machine,” Sunset laughed. She moved on, though noted with curiosity its motion sensor was good. Even after she reentered the rows of arcade machines, it tracked her with its eyes until she was lost to sight.
The encounter was forgotten in the next moments. She found Adagio and they resumed their adventure together, playing fighting games then having a snowball fight in an open-air segment of the building, where palisades were built for just such a battle.
Then they found a little no-track train like what you see at the malls, and lounged within it. Chatting, laughing – and kissing, rocked gently by the train as it moved down its automated course.
Sunset gazed deeply into Adagio’s pink eyes. So easy to lose herself in them, and she knew Adagio felt the same about her own.
“Man, this is way better than flipping–”
Cold.
Discomfort replaced their contented expressions. Adagio poked her head up, then gasped. “Out!”
“What?”
“MOVE!”
Adagio scrambled, and as Sunset moved to follow she saw they were outside. To their right was the hot chocolate station.
Which meant…
The train lurched and sped. Its smokestack vanished from sight, fallen from the edge of Wish-a-Star balcony. The passenger cars cascaded after it.
The floor fell away as Sunset jumped. She half-caught the ledge, the one section not covered by a railing. Her legs dangled after the train into the night-cloaked abyss.
The edge was frozen. She was slipping…
A manicured hand gripped beneath her arm and heaved. Sunset clumsily moved up and away from the edge, embracing her rescuer as they stared to where they almost fell.
“You okay?” Adagio gasped, breathless.
“Fucking no, but I’ll live.”
Adagio threw back her curls, trying to reassure her with a stammered, “It’s o-only three floors, we probably would have been fine.”
“Let’s get inside,” Sunset said.
The arcade still beeped merrily, and the songs still echoed from countless speakers. Somehow it all felt a bit less exciting than it did ten minutes ago.
Sunset froze as they drew near the ramp. From their elevated position, she could see the damn Santa was still tracking her. Its soulless plastic eyes didn’t blink as she again descended to the rows of machines.
With a hop and twist, Adagio sat down on one of the hockey tables. “Okay, look. In our defense, it’s not like we turned on the train. No way they can blame this on you, and odds are good you saved them a hell of a lawsuit.”
“I can’t even think about that right now.” Sunset perched on a bench, clearly shaken yet too wound to relax. “This place is really starting to…”
She gasped. The look of sudden horror she threw past Adagio caused the siren to launch herself from the table. She spun to confront her aggressor, saw nothing, and glanced over to see Sunset still staring in place.
“What?” Adagio asked tersely.
“The Krampus.” Sunset rocketed to her feet. “It was right between the tables. Where the fuck is it?”
It was nowhere. Nowhere they could see, anyway.
“Let’s get back to my station,” Sunset said. They moved at a slow trod, trying to listen past the Christmas music for… something. Anything. It was claustrophobic with this maze of arcade machines looming around them.
“Hey, Dagi?” Sunset asked in a whisper.
Adagio glanced to her girlfriend, then over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
Sunset swallowed hard, eyes resolutely forward. “The psycho who got killed here. What was his name?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Humor me.”
“I don’t remember,” Adagio confessed. “One of those ‘no way your mom actually named you that’ serial killer kind of names.”
“Does ‘Red Billy’ sound right?”
“Wow. Exactly.” Adagio glanced to her again. “How…?”
“Never mind that,” Sunset growled. “I thought you said you made it up? The Santa, the Krampus, the train. What the fuck?”
“Okay, I didn’t exactly make it up. I just got them from one of those dumb urban legend websites.” Adagio shivered. “You looked kind of freaked as I was going through them and I didn’t want you to be scared so I played it off like a joke.”
She paused. “I did make up the thing about the security guard. So there’s that.”
“Adagio, the way this night is going I–”
“BE NOT AFRAID!”
The voice wailed like a damaged speaker. White and wings engulfed Sunset’s vision. Something metal-hard slammed her to the ground. She barely had time to register shock at the animatronic angel before its hands closed around her throat. The fragile silicon layer was pierced from within by the sharp metal rods that were its real fingers, squeezing down hard…
The sole-end of a spiked boot slammed in from the side. No damage to the angel save a rip at its face, but the upset let Sunset scramble to her feet.
Animatronic elves were slipping through the arcade machines on each side. Santa stepped out behind them, its gaze fixed on Sunset. To their fore, an untethered Rudolph appeared and lowered its horns for a charge.
The angel grabbed Sunset’s leg. She twisted free. “Run!”
Only in the corner of Sunset’s eye did she see Adagio’s orange hair flailing alongside her. Old combat instincts rose to the fore: If they can’t catch you, the enemies behind don’t matter. Same with the side.
They ran right for Rudolph. Some superficial damage had already touched its horns, menacing them with the metal spikes within.
No time for a better plan. Sunset charged and dodged at the last instant. The horns raked her back, tearing at the cheap uniform. Yet they did not catch or impale her. Sunset kept running, leaving the robots in her dust.
No time to fiddle with keys, and she had locked the front entrance. Instead she threw open the door to the security office and looked back. “Dagi, get i–”
No Adagio.
She froze.
Elves and animatronic snowmen lurched down the hallway after her.
She stepped in. Slammed the door, turned the deadbolt. Then she sank to the floor, shaking and crying. The monsters didn’t try to batter it down.
Sunset laughed bitterly. Why would they? She was trapped. A few minutes lessened the shaking, at least, if not the tears.
Adagio’s voice. “I mean, shit, but at least I’m not dead.”
Hope flared. Sunset frantically wiped her eyes. Adagio had beaten her here, that was all. At least they were trapped together and maybe…
...No, she was alone. Sunset looked around dumbly for a second until Adagio’s voice came again through the speakers.
“Stop calling me Billy, asshole! It’s freaking me out.”
The monitor videos were uncolored and fuzzy, but there was no mistaking Adagio’s wild hair. Cords of Christmas lights bound her to Santa’s chair. She had gone down fighting – as Santa finished tying her up, a turn of its head showed four fingernail cuts down its face, revealing the metal skull within.
Its voice was perfectly jovial. Perfectly Santa.
“It’s funny, I thought the other girl was Billy. But you’ll do just fine.”
Adagio turned as best she could, trying to look at the robot. “Do for what?”
“Red Billy never died, you know,” Santa said in a kindly voice. “Not in soul, anyway. His body was shot dead wearing this red suit. You will wear it too, Billy. Your blood will drench this suit and your soul will become one with us. Just like the others who come every year, adding their red to Red Billy, feeding him, joining with him to become Billy. Not much longer now, not much longer til Christmas Day. The day Red Billy died. The day he dies every year.”
Krampus appeared on the screen, glowering into Sunset’s eyes. She screamed, stumbled, tripped over the chair. When she looked again, the monitor was lost to static.
A quick look at her phone. Twenty minutes to midnight. No time to call her friends or the cops.
No time to be afraid. The chair was cheap metal – a few kicks broke it apart, making three weak spears or worse clubs.
Anything else? Her eyes gazed around the cramped office and came up short. Nothing but screens and wires. The desk, the locker? She threw open drawers to find nothing but pens and time sheets. A whimper was already in her throat when she unlatched the locker.
And found a shotgun, plus eight boxes of ammunition.
“Huh.” She blinked. Time with Applejack had given Sunset a fair understanding of firearms. She hefted the weapon, checked it, loaded. Definitely a real gun.
“Well alright then.”
She filled every pocket with shells. The ripped shirt caught at her arm, so she finished the job and tore the rest off around her belly.
Then she left the office, barrel-first. One elf lurked in the foyer. It turned to her, and a deafening blast removed its head.
Sunset racked the shotgun, ejecting the spent shell. The smell of gunpowder filled her nose. She stepped over the twisted metal and walked slowly down the hallway.
Another elf, a snowman, and even that damn reindeer were considerably less frightening with a weapon in hand. She thumbed in more rounds, leaving smoking metal corpses in her wake.
She reached the game room. At least she wouldn’t have to go through another hedgerow of machines – the path to Santa’s chair was straight and wide. Adagio even faced her, with the robot Santa looming behind.
Adagio took in Sunset’s gun and bare toned belly, and licked her lips. “Damn girl, you are looking beastly.”
“Mommy’s working, Dagi,” Sunset growled. The Nativity group blocked her way, including the angel and all three members of the holy family.
Her first round tore apart the animatronic baby. “Aw man, this is cringe.”
“They were cringe first!” Adagio called over the ringing in her ears.
“Nice to see you’ve – nnng! – calmed down!” A buffeting wing knocked Sunset to the ground. Again the angel stood above her, but this time she had a shotgun. It fell with a smoking head and she fired again into the others.
“Hey, if these are our last moments it’s not bad to go out watching you be a sexy bad-ass cop and...”
Adagio trailed off, her jovial expression fading away. Elves, snowmen, and reindeer began emerging from the arcade rows, even from the hallway behind Sunset. They charged quickly, all at once.
One more desperate blast and it was over. Metal limbs in lifelike coating pinned Sunset to the ground. Santa approached her, very slowly.
“Shit!” Adagio cried. “Babe, I… I didn’t think this was really the end. I love you.”
Sunset looked up, meeting Santa’s gaze. Her eyes shot around for any chance of escape, anything she could use.
Nothing. A heavy metal hand rested on her shoulder.
A woman’s voice emerged from Santa’s speaker. “You have met a grizzly and gory end. Your spirit shall wander these halls, tormented and screaming, lost forever to the horror of Santa’s Singalong.”
Santa righted himself, and the robots pinning Sunset stood up. Then all turned and began walking away: the reindeer to the sleigh, the elves to the music stage, the snowmen to the snack shop.
Sunset slowly crawled to her feet. The robot Santa untied Adagio, then as she stood it reclaimed the chair and went still.
Questions could wait. Sunset and Adagio ran to each other, hugged fiercely, kissed long and hard. They only parted when they were out of breath, though Adagio didn’t wait to use hers.
“What in the name of sweet baby Celestia happened?”
“I can answer that.” A voice emerged from behind them. The same voice that came on the speaker, though in person it was… recognized.
They turned to see a familiar purple woman, wearing a winter jacket with hand raised in a meek wave.
“I am so confused right now,” Sunset laughed, more from oozing nerves than anything.
“Then we should talk,” Twilight said. She squinted through the fog on her glasses. “I have questions, too. Let’s get you to my office, I have a Keurig.”
Soon they found themselves seated on cushioned computer chairs, with steaming cups in hand. Still half in shock, Sunset and Adagio obediently provided their story at Twilight’s request, then sat still for her answer.
“Okay, first off I am...” Twilight winced. “SO sorry for the misunderstanding.”
Sunset gave a weak smile. “Twilight, my dear sister from another mother, shit is haunted.”
“No, it’s not.” Twilight took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Adagio chimed in. “Did you not hear the part about blood sacrifice?”
“Yes!” Twilight took a deep breath and slapped her glasses back on. “Look: the original Santa’s Singalong went belly-up from all the rumors, but an entrepreneur bought the place and hired me to put new animatronics together. The plan is to lean into the reputation and make it a holiday horror experience based on the urban legends. People come, play the arcade, drink hot cocoa, but then need to solve the puzzle or else die, and by ‘die’ I definitely mean get tagged out by ‘possessed’ animatronics and made to wait in another area. Sort of a big escape room that starts as a normal evening out. Guests are going to know what they’re getting into, of course, with waivers and all that.”
She sipped. Sunset and Adagio sipped as well, then exploded.
“What the FUCK!?”
“Twilight, it went for my throat!”
“And what’s with the shotgun?”
“And the train!”
Twilight cringed back. “Okay, okay. So… ever since the place got burglarized a few years ago they kept a shotgun in the security office. As for the train and throat things, I am so sorry. I’m still working out the kinks in the programming. There’s a reason we’re not open for business yet.”
Adagio pointed a thumb to the office door, having locked it on the way in. “So, they can go robot apocalypse at any time?”
Twilight shook her head. “No, you saw that they won’t actually kill you. Plus the scenario program only kicks in when the activities are in use. My guess is it triggered while you were playing in the arcade.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Great, punished by my own lack of work ethic. Speaking of which, what brings you in this Christmas...” she glanced at her phone. “...Day?”
“I manage the program with an app. I was right about to go to bed when I saw a ton of activity and thought they were tearing each other apart again.”
“Again?” Sunset asked sharply.
“That was months ago, it hasn’t happened since.” Twilight shuffled in place. “I know I keep saying it but I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”
“How?”
Twilight pushed up her glasses. “By letting you cut out early. I’ll be here repairing the animatronics and working on the program until dawn. I can take your punch card and clock out at six for you. After what you’ve been through, it’s the least I can do.”
Five hours of unexpected free time was hard to argue with. Sunset quietly shelved her intended screaming session, thanked Twilight, and stood with Adagio to leave.
She caught herself. “Wait, Twilight? One more question: what was up with the Krampus?”
Twilight looked over to her. “The what?”
“You know, the big demon thing. It didn’t attack like the others, it just was super creepy.”
Twilight shrugged. “We don’t have anything like that. Maybe you saw a damaged snowman?”
Sunset opened her mouth, closed it, and allowed Adagio to guide her out the door. They walked very quickly to the front entrance and unlocked it before stowing the shotgun and retrieving their coats. Only after they left did they realize they forgot the Chinese. Neither suggested going back.
Halfway through their silent drive home, Sunset’s phone rang. A quick glance, and she groaned. “It’s my boss.”
She pulled to an empty lot and swiped the screen. “Merry Christmas, Mister Rich.”
“Good morning, Sunset. Uneventful night?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Good. My I.T. girl just texted me saying there were some programming issues so she’s heading in for on-site work. Speaking of which, my other guard fell through for tomorrow. I wanted to ask if you can pick up Christmas Day, same shift.”
Adagio mimed snapping the phone in half. Sunset hesitated. “Sir, I’m really not sure...”
“I know, I know, it’s Christmas. I’m in a bind.” A yawn came over the phone. “I don’t love dealing with this so late, let me tell you. You’ll get the same deal as tonight: time-and-a-half, plus a holiday bonus.”
“I don’t think...”
“And because you’re picking up on short notice, I’ll toss in the same bonus again extra. So effectively double it.”
Sunset hesitated. She felt Adagio’s eyes on her, though the siren gave no hint to her thoughts. The bonus was big – enough for January and February’s rent, all with just one more night.
“Sounds good. I’ll be there.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Mr. Rich said, then hung up the phone.
They resumed driving. Sunset turned on the radio, releasing Christmas music to the air.
Adagio slapped it off. She turned on her own playlist, and the sound of death metal boomed out for the rest of the drive.