Give And Take

The Mysterious Gifter (Prompt #1)

I walk down the street, trudging through the snow. Christmas eve will last for just a few minutes from now and festivity is in the air. I hear laughter around me.  I wish I had worn something heavier, especially with my failing health. I had actually thought of wearing the sweater my wife gave me last Christmas, but I can't bear to look at it now.

I can almost hear her ringing laughter still. God, that laugh! And that smile! Those were the two things that gave my godforsaken life meaning. And I strived my whole life to see it everyday.

I turn to an alleyway and keep walking. 

Three months before the last Christmas, I married the love of my life. She was the most amazing person I've ever seen. She was a teacher and a social service worker. When she accepted the proposal to marry the pathetic excuse of a painter that I was, I knew it was going to change my life completely, for the better.

I stop in front of an old abandoned factory. The paint is peeling off of its walls. If my nose has not gone numb from the cold, I could've smelled its old age and the musty aura. The door is hanging on one hinge and switching on my flashlight, I enter through the doorway.

A few weeks into my new life, I understood that I cannot keep my secret from her. That I was one of them. One of the Gifted. She didn't mind them and what the news said about them. But I didn't know what she'd think when she came to know that she had married one of the freaks of the town. So I told her. I also apologized that I didn't tell her before. She smiled.

"It's okay," she said "It's how you decide to use it that really matters."

I had no talent in being a vigilante, nor a superhero. But, as per her principle that all men are born to serve others, I started doing what vigilantes and superheroes do, in my way. Secretly, under the radar.

I gifted people. I looked into their minds and sniffed out their greatest desire and made them true. Or at least, helped them come true. This was hard, as man was not a being to be easily satisfied. But I tried. From mansions to words of courage and inspiration to bringing back the dead, I went on and on gifting all types of people, the rich, the poor, locals, foreigners... you name it. My power lent me no ability to satisfy my own desires and I did it with the sole intention of seeing the smile bloom on my wife's lips when I told her of my feats. It was like a drug for which I'd do anything. Eventually, I became weaker and kept getting sick more often. Gifting is taking up my energy, leaving me weak. I hid it from her. I didn't want to ruin her happiness.

I come to the staircase. It will take me up to the roof. I shine my flashlight over the steps. God knows what I'll step on along the way. I hold the thin railing in my gloved hand and begin the climb.

Then over the weeks, the news was all about the mysterious "All-Year-Santa". Theories started flooding in. The two of us laughed for hours when someone suggested that Santa had mixed up the seasons as global warming was causing all seasons to be hot in the North Pole. Close enough.

Our anniversary was coming around and I knew I had to make it memorable for her. So for the first time, I asked her if I could use my power on her. I tried my best to make it subtle. I'll never know if it worked or not. But eventually, she consented.

"Anything you do," she said, with her signature smile, "do it at your own risk. I don't know what you'll find in there."

The beam of light bounces back from the stairs, helping me to barely assure myself that I wasn't stepping on any danger. I relax in the stillness of air and the silence feels surprisingly very welcome, the only sound being the echo of my footsteps.

I remember feeling calm and comfortable with her. I expected intruding into thoughts would be embarrassing for the both of us, but her wish was simple enough. It was something that I felt that I should grant her without using my power. She simply wished of being appreciated. And that was not asking too much. She deserved it more than I could ever put to words.

Gradually, the cold begins to lessen as I travel up, almost reviving me and keeping me from dying of the cold.

So I put in a week into the surprise and painted my masterpiece. I drew her from memory in the way as I saw her. Well, the painting almost drew by itself. Adding the finishing touches, I took in her angelic features and her aura of utmost purity. It was well past midnight when I was done and I spent another few hours pouring my heart out onto a paper. It ended up being the longest and the most successful love letter I've ever written for her. The next morning, I had to leave before she woke. My partner, Carey had come across an "unbelievable deal" regarding one of my abstracts. It was almost dark when I returned.

I heard her footsteps as soon as I rang the bell. Before I could get ahold of my bearings, she squealed and pounced on me, her lips crashing on mine. I've never seen her lose control like that. I laughed along with her.  I asked if she liked her gift.

"Like it?" she giggled, looking me in the eyes, her voice higher than usual, "I love it. Thank you." Then she dragged me in saying that I'd be late for dinner. Needless to say, the food was amazing. We did the dishes together as usual, danced away into the night, and fell asleep on the couch, too tired to get to bed.

That was our first and our best anniversary. It was also our last.

The staircase ends up at the roof. The building is pretty high and as I step out, the sudden cold makes me double over in a coughing fit.

That day, I was with Carey and was trying my best to get out as fast as I can. It was getting dark and I needed to pick my wife from the mall. That's when she called to check on me. I asked her to give me ten minutes and joked that she could divorce me if I was I took a second more than that. She laughed.

"You're not getting away that easy, darling," she said, chuckling, "you're stuck with me for a lifetime."

I drove there as fast as I could. I didn't want to keep her waiting, definitely not at a time like that.

I asked her for ten minutes. I got there in eight. I expected to see her to walk upto the car, peek in and say, "Oh you're so stuck with me now." What I didn't expect to see was her being stabbed to death, on the pavement.

I don't recall what happened after that very clearly. But I do remember sitting in the hospital staring at my hands covered in her blood.

And then they said that she didn't make it.

Was it her fault? She was breathing when I brought her in. She was alive when she gasped out my name when they took her in.

Where were the vigilantes when we needed them? Where were the superheroes? Where were they?

I sit down at the edge, overlooking the city basking in the glow and merriment. I think of people enjoying the gifts that I gave them... and taking them for granted.

It's only a matter of time when they all dissappear... into thin air... just like how they came into existence.

I close my eyes and concentrate on the energy, my energy, spread out in the city and even in various other parts of the globe.

If there is anything that I hadn't told my wife, it was the fact that just as I could give, I could also take, even what I had not given.

As I will all that energy back to me, half of the lights of the city as far I can see flicker for a moment. And I find blood pumping in my veins, with new-found energy . I feel the strongest I've ever felt in my life.

It feels right to give them a taste of loss. 

And when they understand sorrow, I will revel. I will know that they have learnt.

Last year, they called me Santa. This year, they'll call me Krampus.