Fairy Dust!” I exclaimed as the words left the Stranger’s mouth.
“Their high on it,” the Stranger said with deadly intent. Fairy Dust, the drug of the fairy world. I had encountered it on a couple occasions, sometimes humans came into contact with it. You may have stumbled upon whimsical news stories featuring individuals prancing down the street in a ballerina outfit, embodying the spirit of fairy princesses; chances are, those exuberant souls were under the enchanting influence of this magical powder. To the denizens of fairytales, however, Fairy Dust is not merely a playful indulgence; it is a potent stimulant, comparable to the effects of cocaine, speed, and a myriad of other narcotics. This shimmering substance ignites a euphoric high between enchantment and chaos, and Santa’s reindeer were full of it.
“This is going to hurt,” the Stranger murmurs. “But we can’t let them rescue, Frosty, we’re too damn close to the red guy.” The tone of his voice left no room for doubt that he was ready to do anything to keep Frosty in his grip. The snowman was the key to finding Santa. Frosty’s mocking laughter only added to the surreal situation we found ourselves in, and yet, how was this any different to all the other crazy scenarios we came across in our hunt for the Dreamer.
Vixen was the first to strike.
Clever and imaginative, she was often hailed as a master problem solver, celebrated for her ability to devise unconventional solutions. Yet, this Vixen was enveloped in a haze of Fairy Dust, and her brilliant plan for the moment involved a dramatic entrance through the window. With her large, bloodshot eyes and a wild, almost frenzied expression, she charged into the fray. The Stranger reacted swiftly, firing a shotgun that severed the top of her right antler. Surprisingly, the pain that should have accompanied such a wound was rendered moot by the Fairy Dust coursing through her veins. Undeterred, she barrelled forward, and the Stranger and I barely managed to dodge her as she surged past, sending furniture flying in her wake. With a force that seemed to defy reason, she crashed headfirst into the wall, her momentum so overwhelming that she broke through it entirely. In that moment, it became painfully clear: no amount of magical Fairy Dust could alter the immutable laws of physics, and thus, the tale of Vixen came to a tragic end.
Then came Dasher.
Why they didn’t rush us all at once I’ll never know, perhaps it was the Dust clouding their judgement or maybe it is just a reindeer thing, to see who’s the best. Dasher lived up to his name, the speed of the reindeer was phenomenal. Too bad he didn’t live up to his personality as being quiet and reserved.“Look out!” The Stranger yelled at me as he shoved me out of the way. The Stranger wasn’t as lucky as he found himself in a precarious situation, having been caught off guard by Dasher, whose antlers grazed his shoulder with a force that left a deep gash rather than a mere nick. Despite the pain searing through him, the Stranger was not one to succumb easily; he was fuelled by a fierce determination to fight back. Even with Dasher's impressive speed, the Stranger summoned all his strength and agility, managing to grasp the formidable antlers of the beast. In a swift, calculated motion, he hoisted himself onto Dasher's back, feeling the powerful muscles ripple beneath him. It was a daunting task and the Stranger knew that this was just the beginning of a tumultuous struggle.
“Ride ‘em cowboy!” He shouts in triumph or madness. It’s sometimes hard to know which is which when it comes to my partner.
Dasher, overwhelmed by the humiliation of being ridden, surged forward in a fit of rage, his speed escalating as he darted around the room. With a wild energy, he raced along the walls, his hooves barely touching the ground, and even defied gravity by sprinting across the ceiling. The air crackled with his frantic movements, and I found myself scrambling to avoid his path, heart racing as I navigated the chaotic scene. Each turn he took was unpredictable, a whirlwind of fury and defiance, and I could only marvel at the sheer power and agility he displayed, a creature unbound by the constraints of the ordinary.
“Dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh, laughing all the way,” the words of the Stranger echoed as he clung on for dear life, his arms gripped tightly around Dasher’s neck.The reindeer raced through the room with such incredible speed that it felt as if a tornado had swept in, turning the space into a whirlwind of chaos. I could sense the pull of the floor beneath me, as if the very gravity was shifting, trying to lift me off my feet. In a frantic attempt to anchor myself, my fingers clutched the windowsill, the only stable object in this surreal scene. Amidst Dasher's frenzied sprint, the Stranger's off-key serenade, and Frosty's derisive laughter echoing around me, I found myself transported to a realm more bizarre than anything I had ever encountered, reminiscent of the strangest episodes from the Twilight Zone.
The Stranger's approach was undeniably chaotic, yet there was a twisted logic to his actions. As he tightened his grip around Dasher's neck, the reindeer's access to oxygen diminished, causing its powerful limbs to falter. The once vibrant energy of the creature began to wane, and the tumultuous debris that had been swirling around them gradually settled to the ground. In a dramatic turn of events, Dasher finally succumbed to the pressure, crashing heavily onto the floor and sending the Stranger tumbling off its back. He collided forcefully with the nearby wall, the impact echoing through the air. In that moment, silence enveloped the scene, leaving both the fallen reindeer and the disoriented man motionless.
I hurried towards the Stranger, urgency propelling my every step. As I knelt beside him, I pressed my fingers against his wrist, relieved to find a pulse—he was alive, though unconscious. Just as I began to formulate my next move, an unsettling warmth brushed against the nape of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. My instincts kicked in, and I turned slowly, my heart racing as I came face to face with Dancer. Her eyes were wild and bloodshot, a telltale sign of her intoxication with Fairy Dust, and the intensity of her gaze hinted at a brewing confrontation. The air crackled with tension, and I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me, as if the very atmosphere was charged with the promise of chaos.
Copyright Peter Jessop © 2025
