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Hubert's existence sucks. It's not a pleasant reality on an average day, but now he's trapped in a cell below ground, and he's hungry enough to fantasise about drinking his own blood -- foul as it is. But being trapped and starving isn't all. It's Christmas, and his Maker, Frank, has decided that the only way he's gonna let Hubert out of the cell is if he dresses up as Santa.
All Hubert wants to do is eat, Frank says he can't, but all those children with their untainted blood are calling for him to have a taste...
Note: This is a (short) short story
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