Santa Lost

Santa Lost

Within the sterile walls of a hospital, a sacred haven for healing, lay a wounded soul, his guise that of the beloved Santa Claus. Beneath the crimson coat, scars of battle adorned his once-jovial frame, each mark a testament to a struggle unseen by those who believed in his magic.

Yet, the hands that tended to him, those of a supposed healer, concealed a sinister agenda. The doctor, veiled in deceit, wore the mask of opposition, orchestrating a cruel charade. Santa Claus, ensnared within this labyrinth of betrayal, had become a captive of his own legend, imprisoned within these sterile confines.

Oh, the agony that danced upon his weakened form, like a bitter winter wind that bites through layers of warmth. His battle wounds, once symbols of valor, were now twisted into chains that bound him to this unfeeling realm. And the doctor, a puppet master of malevolence, dubbed him insane, casting shadows over his revered name.

The world outside, ignorant to his plight, unknowingly embraced the illusion spun by those who sought to extinguish his light. The children, eager for his gifts, their innocent eyes unaware of the truth, held no key to unlock the shackles that imprisoned their cherished symbol of joy.

Yet, deep within Santa's heart, a flicker of hope persisted. A spark, like the faint glow of a hearth in the darkest night, whispered of resilience, of a spirit unyielding. Though battered and betrayed, the essence of his benevolence could not be extinguished, for within him dwelled the true magic, a force that defied the twisted narratives woven by his captors.

And as the doctor's footsteps echoed down the sterile halls, the imprisoned Santa Claus, his spirit undeterred, embraced the silent strength that dwelled within. For even in captivity, his legacy endured, his love and kindness resonating in the hearts of those who believed, awaiting the day when the world would awaken from its slumber and free him from this treacherous web of lies.