The streets of Oldport are covered in the disgusting mix of snow, ice, and road treatment chemicals that are typical of the season and its sidewalks are barely better. Nothing I need to worry about at least. My job has many perks and clothes enchanted to reject all contaminants are one of them. A car could even splash the gross slurry onto my suit and it would just slide off. So naturally, a taxi does as it pulls up to the sidewalk in front of me.

I glare at the taxi driver through his mirror as the passengers get out. It’s a couple carrying their spoils from a long day of shopping. Fucking Christmas, I growl to myself. Can’t go anywhere in December without crawling through mobs of shoppers, every single public place playing the same ancient songs, everyone urging you to be happy and spend time with the people you love.

I watch the happy couple walk into one of the high end shops, bastards. The only thing I’ve got this Christmas is my mission. I check my watch, a deceptively simple appearing device that’s another perk. It’s the 21st, might be finished before I get stuck in some exotic locale by the deluge of travelers.

I walk along the dirty sidewalk for another block and enter my destination, clean as when I put the suit on this morning. The high speed elevator confronts me with mirrors and the empty man stares back at me, as plain and anonymous as he should be. Cleaners like me aren’t supposed to stick out at all. I don’t maintain eye contact.

The doors open to a small office. The secretary smiles at me and I wink back at her. 

“Welcome Mr. Burke”, she says with an open hand, ignoring my advances. I hand her a file, the information on my last target. Poor guy, at least no one will ever find what’s left of him.

“Thank you, your briefing is ready in office three C”. 

I thank her in return and walk back to meet with the briefer.

The briefer today is Rhine, a senior on the business side. Mid fifties, fan of cigars, not as fond of my not-so-dearly departed father. He clearly works to look his part as much as I do. He enjoys giving out the “impossible” jobs. Last job he gave me was the worst I’d ever had, almost got devoured by some ancient spirit that had been possessing my target when he died.

He welcomes me, his eyes shining with malice and glee. This is going to be another dangerous one.

“Welcome, what do you know about Black Peach, Mr Burke?”

“Our competitor in the south. Brutal, corrupt, successful, and as old as we are.”, he looks at me waiting, “...Sir”

“Correct Mr. Burke”, he smirks, having successfully extracted my deference, “and yet for the past three years they have failed the same job three times.”

Rhine snaps and the office wall displays a map. He points at a spot far north from Oldport.

“And what can you tell me about this?”

“Daver, a large town for the area, it’s primarily known for its agricultural exports and winter festival …Sir”

“Correct again Mr. Burke. Our client, BP’s former client, has quarrel with this town. They tried employing Black Peach to avoid anyone with ties to the area but their inexperience with the north likely led to their failures”, Rhine clearly enjoys their losses.

“What exactly do they want us to do Sir?”

“In recent years the town has produced incredibly large harvests of high quality crops. Our client believes that this is due to a ritual, the winter festival. The centerpiece of it in particular.”

Rhine snaps again and the map changes to display a massive deer made out of straw. It is impressive in size, roughly fifty feet tall as far as I can tell by comparing it to the surrounding buildings.

“This is The Daver Deer, a tradition that arose in 1972. The monument is constructed every year at the end of November but most years it is burnt down by drunks or other vandals. Our concern here is the past five years. Every single year it survives until New Years and every single year Daver’s harvests have been massive and valuable in turn. Our client wants it burnt down so that the ritual is ruined”

That’s what they’re hiring a hitman for? Sure some industrial sabotage isn’t unfamiliar, especially the kinda where one critical, even magical target needs to be removed. But burning a giant straw Deer? I almost start objecting, but then I realize. I could finally get the chance to ruin someone else’s Christmas for a change, instead of their Christmas ruining my peace and quiet. I could almost crack a smile.

“Sounds like a great vacation to me”, I reply.

“Glad to hear you’re up for it, Mr. Burke. I always can count on you for the dangerous jobs”, he smiles sinisterly.

I manage to get to the train but just barely. North Station is whizzing past before I can even sit down. There are a few stops before it gets up to Daver and a few hours too. Best to find someplace where I can hunker down, somewhere with minimal exposure, I really don’t want to ever get shot on a train.

The end seat on this model has no window to the outside so it’s unoccupied. My tardiness put me in the final section of the train, a safe place to be. There’s only one direction that anyone can come from if they are after me.

I discreetly examine everyone I pass as I make my way back to the car. No weapons visible, that’s good. Magic is another story. I don’t have the sight but I could put on some glasses that work just as well. Of course they are enchanted themselves so any hostiles would notice what I was doing immediately.

Satisfied that the only people on traveling with me are tourists, people heading home for the holiday, and maybe some assassins who won’t be discovered until they attack, I sit down and take a look at the dossier out of my suitcase.

The Daver Deer has suffered a lot over the years. Over 90 percent of its displays ended in its destruction until the recent streak. Over time the security has gotten more and more elaborate.: fences, guards, cameras, anti-flammable enchantments. The methods of destruction have increased in turn: from drunks with torches to accidental fireworks to molotovs. Someone even hit it with a car once, that must have been quite a joyride.

I’ll have to check in person but I’ve got a good idea of what I could use. A pocket rocket, a small bomb transfigured into the size of a bullet. They’re mostly only good for distractions and the rare jobs where the client wants something nasty and public. Most jobs want a pretty corpse to send a message, not a tactical instant renovation. I’ve got a few with me and there’s a number of buildings that sit around the square it sits in that should give me a good vantage point, I’ll just need to find one I can enter without raising too much suspicion. 

Nothing more to do now but wait, at least this quick trip is almost over. Could try relaxing. The in train radio turns to another damn Christmas song. I’d been focusing on the other passengers and the dossier that I hadn’t even noticed. Never any escape from these songs until December ends. I wonder, when did I start to resent it all? I let my memories wash over me.

It’s Christmas, many years ago. I’m alone with mother, back in my childhood home. I’m a young teenager, just discovering rebellion and being a little asshole. Not that I feel too guilty about those days. What boy would enjoy being left alone with his mother for the bulk of the holidays?

My mother is staring down at me with concern.

“Come on Jacob, you never used to be like this?”

“Well maybe I didn’t have a choice, I was a little kid back then”, I say, backing up with a glare.

She’s holding up a red Santa-themed outfit, something that would be cute on a kid but incredibly embarrassing on someone my age. It matches her own outfit, which looks more Mrs. Claus. I can see the disappointment on her face and feel the burning embarrassment on my cheeks.

“Why do I have to do this?”

“But”, she trails off, “you always…”

“But, it’s weird, it’s not manly”, I cross my arms at her, “I’m sick of Christmas this and Christmas that. This shitty holiday is just an excuse for you to make me your little mama’s boy fag. I hate you!” My voice cracks when I try to scream.

She stares at me with a strange look before turning and walking away. A Christmas song is playing over her radio by the tree. Half opened boxes of Christmas decorations lay all around the couch.

Damn it, I’m just hurting her feelings. Why do I have to care about that? Why does this make me feel bad? God damn it, I just didn’t want to be dressed up like a doll. Why is it so hard to explain myself?

“Mom, wait”, I follow her down the hallway.

She turns and looks at me, and I really see her for the first time in years, but only a memory. My hair is blond like her hair, not brown like my father’s. Her face looks so much like mine does in the scene right now, still a child with the heaviest touches of puberty yet to come. Hers is all blotchy and my heart drops. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mom upset like that before.

“I won’t dress up with you”, I start, trying to negotiate, “but I still want to set up decorations and all that Christmas stuff that you like”

“I’d like that Jason”, she sniffs.

Damn it, now I’m starting to cry. 

“I know you didn’t really mean it”, Mom pulls me into a tight embrace.

I let it all out, overwhelmed. My cheeks burn even worse. What am I doing? This isn’t how a man should behave. I need to be strong for her, the man of the house, just like-

The doorbell bings, father is home. He’s early this year, he shouldn’t be back until late Christmas Eve. I don’t know why but as much as I look up to him, this surprise fills me with dread.

Mother looks shocked and opens her mouth to tell me something. A bing is all that comes out. I start running but the floor feels like gelatin and I get nowhere. I yell out in shock but only a bing comes out of my own mouth.

The robotic announcer voice bings and pulls me back out of my memories. The train is pulling into Daver now. It’s time to give up my miserable remembrance and prepare to exit the train.

The train platform is filled with tourists, nice little families come to celebrate Christmas in this idyllic place. I wish that I had time to grab a disguise but nothing really beats a suit. Looks professional, clean, powerful, everything I need to be right now.

The sun is beginning to hang low in the horizon, a perfect excuse to put on my glasses. Anyone looking at them while I’m wearing them may notice that they’re enchanted, but they shouldn’t be able to tell my mimicry of the sight from UV protection. The families are starting to clear out and the train is pulling away. It’s time to get to work.

Daver is a rather small city, like a dozen blocks of Oldport were plucked out and plopped back down again in the middle of nowhere. It has been horrifically dressed up for the season, green and red, wreaths and lights plastered all over the brick buildings of the town. The center of it is a block of old brick town square where The Deer has been constructed. I can’t quite see it yet from this distance or angle but I can hear some children in front of me shrieking and running through the lightly snow dusted road when they see it.

I wonder what they will think, watching it burn down tonight. Will it be something terrifying to see it burn, or something exciting like fireworks? Maybe it would be even liberating, to have an excuse to get out of these embarrassing Christmas celebrations that they are trapped in? Thinking back to my recollections on the train, I wish that I’d had an out back then, a way to escape the… emasculation without hurting my mother’s feelings. 

The family in front of me reaches a corner in the road and lets out a gasp, oohing and ahhing. Gotta be close by now. A few more steps and I’ll be able to see my prey with my own eyes.

I round the corner and it takes my breath away. It’s so much bigger in person. The Deer towers over the square, it’s got to be around sixty feet this year. The antlers tower even higher, weaving a complex web of wrapped straw into the sky. How many people did it take how much time to build that thing? I stare at it in awe as I walk closer, analysis time. It’s made out of straw, with some sort of skeleton underneath to provide support. The tightness of the straw appears to be what’s holding the bulk of the straw in.

Walking into the square itself, My glasses show the subtle glow of magic on both the skeleton and the straw, anti-fire magic, an obvious countermeasure. There’s an iron fence surrounding it, preventing the crowds from getting too close, it seems to also be enchanted somehow, it looks like an alarm to me. Obvious cops are wandering through the crowd, they probably have someone stationed here day and night.

I lean on a building facing the square to try to get some time to analyze the runes wrapped around this majestic monument. A lot of effort has gone into fire-proofing, it’s wrapped in a number of spells to summon water, erase flames, and suck air away from it if there’s any danger. Still, the kinetic blast from the pocket rocket should be able to damage The Deer enough to weaken the spells. Lasting magic requires exact distances, it’s all very mathematical when you get down into the details, so a large enough blast can disrupt anything not set in stone itself.

Suddenly, I feel like someone is watching me. I whip my head from side to side, scanning the entire courtyard, no one. Something from behind, a door, I was leaning on a door this whole time. It pushes me forward and I slip on the snow dusted bricks and fall.

“Fucckkkk!”, I yell, I can’t recover my balance, I’m going to hit land face first on the bricks.

“Whoa, watch out”, a voice from behind shouts. A woman?

An arm grabs me by the collar and saves me from kissing the bricks. My tie gets caught on my throat and my glasses fall to the pavement. I left out a choking sound and the stranger apologizes and pulls me totally upright, spinning me around.

There’s a woman, a massive woman, at least as they go. I’m definitely taller than her but she’s fucking built. She’s wearing warm looking pants, boots, and a green flannel that somehow doesn’t hide her bulk. She looks up at me with a smirk.

“Like what you see?”, she asks, having noticed my ocular inspection.

A little surprising there but I’m back in my element, time to work the magic. I’ve traveled around the world and gotten with more women than I can count. Models, politicians, scientists, and only half of them were secretly trying to kill me too. This is something I can handle. I’ll get in with this local, have a fun night, and then pump her for information and get out of town even faster.

“Sorry ma’am, I’d been so distracted by the second most beautiful sight in this town that I didn’t even notice the most beautiful sight was behind my back.”, I give her a wink. 

She laughs at me. “Wow, not Mr. Subtle are ya?”

“Nope, I find directness to be most effective. In personal matters and in business”

“So then, what are you here for? Personal or business?”

“Little bit of both”, I smile at her, building rapport is important, “How about you?”

She laughs again and grins at me.

“I live here, that’s my building you were blocking the door of.”, she points at me, “Alright, I was just going across the square to get a drink. You want to join me?”

Her building huh? I bet I could get a good vantage point to hit The Deer from the top of there after a good lay, “Of course”

“Hell yeah Mr. Business, you’re buying the first round”

“It’s Mr. Burke, not Business”, I can’t help but crack a smile. The funny ones are always my favorites.

“So formal, you can call me Veronica”, she points to a neon sign behind and to the side of The Deer, “After you Mr. Burke”

I spin around and hear a snapping sound on the ground, my fallen glasses, and let out a series of expletives.

The bar Veronica has taken me to has seen better days. It’s housed in what must be an original building to the town. Highly shabby and showing a series of half-done renovations over the many years, it has a certain small town charm that I hold no value in. The current owners have decorated everything up for the season and raised the prices up in turn. Damn Christmas, damn tourists.

Veronica leads me over to the bar and cheerfully shouts out to the bartender, an older woman dressed up in flannels like her.

“Don’t worry Jacob, I’ve got you covered tonight”, she slaps me on the back, “think of it as repayment for your shades” Her excitement for getting me to pay for her drinks seems to have been blunted for now.

“What you two gonna have?”, the bartender asks.

“Beer!”, Veronica shouts while pumping one fist.

“I’ll have a martini but substitute the vermouth for absinthe and the gin for rum”, I ask, coolly. Having your own drink is what success looks like. 

The bartender makes a face, intimidated by my class, “Sure, coming right up”

I keep my ears perked, listening to everything going on around me. Someone sneaking up on me while I’m in here would be a terrible outcome. I need to stay aware. I need to keep alert. I can hear everyone walking around, drinks clinking, the breaths of my fellow patrons at the bar, ice cracking as it’s hit by a warm drink. I am in control here.

Veronica is waving her hand in front of my face. I open my mouth to talk but she beats me.

“Hey, Jake, you still with me?”, her calling me that, it feels like a cold knife in my chest.

“Stop”, I interject, “it’s Jacob”.

“Ah, sorry, I got a little too familiar”, she apologizes with an arm behind her head.

“No, it’s just names, I…”, I’m not really sure what my discomfort was there. Some realization is lurking in the back of my head. Wait, how did she kno- before I can complete that thought, the bartender comes over with our drinks.

“To a fun night”, Veronica toasts with a wink.

“To a fun night”, I respond.

She looks into my eyes. “And to be clear before we start drinking, this is a hookup”

“How forward”, I raise an eyebrow at her.

“What can I say?”, she shrugs, “I like the cute ones”

“Cute, huh?, a strange way to describe me.

“Yeah, in a kinda hung up way”, she says, pointing at me, “What you need is to relax”

Normally I’m on the other side of these conversations. I’m not sure exactly how to feel here. Still, she’s hot, sex is sex, and as my more serious side notices, she has a room the overlooks The Deer. I bet I could sneak out in the morning and get to the roof and take my shot. 

“Well then”, I smile to her, “to relaxation”

We clink glasses and drink, her chugging and me sipping slowly. My drink has a refined taste, it keeps me alert as my cheeks begin to flush. Time to try to get some local intel.

“So, you born and raised in Christmas town?”, I ask, setting my drink down unfinished.

“Nah, moved here a few years ago, I was backpacking for a while but felt like I should settle down. Ran out of money here and decided to stay”, she turns to the bartender again holding her empty mug, “beer me!”

She turns back to me, “You don’t mind grabbing this one, right?”

I can’t help but chuckle and agree.

“But yeah I ended up sticking around cause I can’t help but feel welcome. I do a little crafting and it sells well in the local shops, especially right now”, she takes a sip from her refilled glass., “plus get to help out with that giant deer.”

This is what I was looking for. Someone who knows the details of this thing’s construction and is into me. I couldn’t ask for a better coincidence.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s fun. The whole town comes together.”

I take a small sip from my bitter drink again, preparing to ask.

“So, how do you feel about the burnings?”

“The burnings, well-“

“Bunch of shit-heads if you ask me, trying to ruin our Christmas every year”, the bartender interrupts. She refills Veronica’s beer and hands me one too. No appreciation for creativity.

“Aww, I never even got to see one yet. I bet it’s really cool, doubt they could succeed again though. The town witch has been really thorough. What do you think Jacob?”

Sensing the bartender’s attention, I chose my words carefully “Well, I’m not sure. Sure would be interesting to see.”

Veronica grins at me, “Hahaha, you get it!”

I lower my voice and my mug, “Plus, I’m not exactly the biggest fan of Christmas. Wouldn't feel too bad about it”

Veronica’s eyes go wide, “Not a fan of Christmas?”, she yells out.

I can feel them. Everyone in this bar is looking at us, at me. Their stares burn the back of my head. That was the worst thing that she could have done. My brain is screaming at me, get out.

“Aww, well I’m just gonna have to show you a good Christmas while you’re here.”, Veronica pats my shoulder like I’d told her about a personal tragedy. I’ve got to think of something to say, something that will get her to get out of here with me and away from all these suspicious locals.

“Hey, Veronica, let do that now then., show me the best Christmas ever.”, 

She grins and stands up, “Alright, you’ve got a deal Jacob”

We toss some cash on the counter and she grabs my hand. I look at her and she looks back suggestively. I take a look around the bar, people are watching, I just know it. I look back to her and nod and she takes my hand and pulls me out the door into the snowy square.

The square shines, lights strung on all the buildings, their display illuminating the softly falling snow. It’s something that I would probably find romantic if I was some sort of sap. My eyes dart down at my hand held in Veronica’s.

The Deer, my target, is still in the center of everything. Patrols of cops are hanging around it, more noticeable with the tourist crowds, mostly the families, thinned out for the night. They are always easy to identify, their footsteps distinct, a discomfort mixed with predation. My own gait is guilty of the same unless combatted with effort, something they can never replicate. 

The only others around are a few lingering couples and locals. I’m sure we blend in right now. Veronica stops in front of The Deer and looks at me and then the sky. There’s a strange expression on her face and her grip grows tighter.

“The stars are beautiful tonight”, Veronica mumbles.

I say nothing.

“Well- they should be”, she stumbles, “the clouds are blocking the sky and the lights from town would make them less visible even if-“, she fades off.

“So I guess that makes you more beautiful than them today then?”, I interrupt.

“Dammit, I was trying to work my way over to that line. Sent too much time alone, my skills are rusty”, she grins.

“How was that gonna work?”

“About the same really”

“Not the beautiful line?”, I bristle.

“What? Don’t want to be a beautiful guy?”, she smirks at me.

I frown, “I’m more of the classy type, or-“

Her lips interrupt my objections. Two can play, I grab the back of her head and lean down on her. She returns the favor, grabbing me with her powerful arms. There’s something comforting about it but this isn’t how things normally go for me with women.

I pull myself away. This isn’t how things go at all. It’s unfamiliar territory, I need to be careful, my body tenses. Veronica is studying my face again, trying to read my emotions before she makes another move.

“Alright, I suck at romance, wanna go home and fuck?”

I grin and agree, now there’s some familiar territory.

Veronica’s bedroom is small and messy, I’m not exactly surprised by this. Feels cozy at least. My apartment, as large as it is, only contains the barest essentials. I check the area as we enter, we’re alone together.

Veronica has plopped herself onto the bed, her legs off the foot of the bed and resting on the floor. She sits up and looks at me when I walk in. Her expression is more serious than I’ve seen in the whole day I’ve known her.

“Alright, Jacob. Before we do this, I gotta tell you something.”

I look at her and nod.

“You’ve seemed chill tonight so but if you’re not okay with it then you’re gonna leave”, she sighs, ‘I’m trans”

My eyes grow wide. I’ve fucked more women than I can remember but they’ve all been cis as far as I know. Still, I can’t help but be curious, I’ve seen the porn autoplays, clicked away a little too slowly, spent a night trying to figure out what I’d just seen. I’ve wondered what it would be like to be here like this, fascination, forbidden desire.

“No problem”, I nod, pulling myself together.

“Cool”, Veronica’s expression softens, “you still wanna fuck then?”

“Yeah, what do uh”, I trail off.

“You don’t have to deal with it if you don’t want to. Honestly, I’d be more concerned if Mr. Tourist was totally excited for that. I’ll take the lead.”

“No way, I’m taking the lead here”, I slip off my suit jacket.

“Come on tourist, let me show you around the area”, she takes her green flannel off.

I can make out her abs in the minimal light of the bedroom. Damn, this girl is cut. Two can play at that though.

“How about I show you how we do it in the big city?”, I strip my button-down off. Her eyes inspect my body. She’s definitely more muscular but I’m taller and equally cut, there’s no certain winner here.

Several minutes of striping, bad lines, wrestling, and one knocked over lamp later and we’re both aggressively making out naked on her bed. Sex is a competition and I’m going to be the winner. I’ve never really faced serious competition before, most challenges start and end with getting the girl of the night into bed, but I’m not about to fold to the first woman who wants to fight for control.

I shift my hips and then it happens, our erections meet. She pushes in, rubbing them together. My body shakes from the feeling and my eyes go wide in shock. That was good, real good.

“Never frotted before, playboy?”, she smirks.

I can only shake my head in response, my voice leaving me.

“Well then, you’re in for an enlightening night”

Her hand grabs both of us together and flips them up. Her lips meet mine and I lose control of the situation. My cock in her hand and her tongue in my mouth, I am being fucked for the first time in my life. My cheeks are red and my throat fills with moans. 

The dynamic of this is almost as pleasurable as the sex itself. Veronica is skilled with her hand and there’s something strangely enjoyable about having her uhhh, late nights of guilty browsing in between missions come back to me, girlcock grinding against my dick. I lay back and enjoy getting fucked, my mind drifting away, I just exist in the pleasure and the moment.

God, I’m getting close. Something inside is screaming at me. I can’t let this happen. I’m a man, an aggressor, a goddamn professional killer. What am I doing to my dignity? I snap out of my haze. I need to preserve my pride.

I’m about to pull myself away when Veronica sharply breathes in, shaking. My cock and my lower torso are coated with something wet as she pulls back from me, an impressed look on her face.

“Damn, you’ve got some good stamina there, I didn’t expect to be the one who came first”, she eyes my abdominals, watching a clear liquid drip down them, “ha, cum gutters”

I hit her head with a pillow and she pulls me into a hug. She can feel my body still vibrating from the experience. Words don’t come to me but I try to communicate that I enjoyed it.

“So, you want me to finish you off?”, she asks. I nod yes and she smiles before descending down my body. A blowjob, one of the countless I’ve had before on missions. It’s my reward for winning this ludacris contest, a way to feel powerful and in control again.

But I don’t feel powerful as her lips wrap around my manhood. I feel needy, shaken, vulnerable. If I could cry, I think I would be doing it right now. Nothing here is bad, the opposite in fact, it’s simply overwhelming, more overwhelming than sex has ever been for me.

Sex is simple: find a hot lady who is equally likely to betray or aid me each assignment, say some absolutely genius lines, and bang her until her eyes roll back in her head. It’s not supposed to have feelings and I’m not supposed to be overwhelmed by the sensations. What is happening to me?

Veronica’s mouth pulls me back out of my head, her tongue is too good and I’m too close to last any longer. My whole body shakes and I cum inside her mouth. I’m blown away, I've never felt so good before.

Veronica climbs back up to head height, greeting me with a cum-filled kiss. Honestly, my cum tastes pretty decent. This too is enjoyable to me. I mumble thanks to her and she wraps her powerful arms around me. There’s a powerful feeling of safety wrapped up together. My consciousness is fading, I can’t help but feel like I’m permanently changed. How can I go back to how I’ve been all my life after this?

I wake up naked in the space below Veronica’s starfished arm, my face leaning into her breast. My head pulses with pain and my skin is sticky with dried sweat and cum. Fucking hangovers. I slide my body off the bed and stand unsteadily.

Over the night, my pillow has drifted from under my head to cover Veronica's. That will make leaving easier, both for me not having to see her face and her not being able to hear me. As far as I am concerned, last night didn’t happen. When I leave, I’m going to be the same man I always was and this will only be a shameful memory at worst.

Morning peaks in through the window and The Deer stares at me, coated in freshly fallen snow overnight. My foe, not much longer now.

I take a quick shower, try to exorcize the debt of a messy night. I’m too tired to think in her bathroom so I only stare at the tile of her shower. I am affected, slowed, I don’t want to go. And yet, I have to.

Putting on my suit is like a ritual, one interrupted by Veronica’s snores and feeling especially hollow today, but there’s still something very meaningful about it to me. The calm before the kill. I take one last look at the source of my discomfort and slip out the door.

The stairwell leads me up to the roof, the access door’s lock is busted, one more step that I don’t need to take. The highest rooftop in the city, one of the last ones built before zoning laws were passed to limit the heights, it gives me cover and anonymity. The Deer’s head looks up over the edge, a perfect angle.

To the part of me that enjoyed last night’s deep regret, everything here is perfect. It’s time to go back to normal.

I breathe in and pull a revolver out from the endless space between two threads of my suit-coat. I load a single pocket rocket, spin the chamber, and fire. Merry Christmas.

The bullet flies directly into the forehead of The Deer, right between the roots of the antlers.  The shockwaves burst out through the straw as the explosion begins, I stare at it waiting, but nothing more comes. My pocket rocket was a dud?

I reach to grab another and only find searing pain instead. Something is wrong, very wrong. The magic, I never got a good chance to analyze it. Was it set up to reflect all damage done onto attackers? I fall to my knees from the burning, my breath is ragged, my mind burning.

A stinging sensation bursts out of my throat. It erupts over my skin like the ripples from a stone thrown into a pond. Each burning my skin more and more as the waves crash into each other.

I’ve got to cool off. I scramble, ripping off my suit jacket, and get sweet relief before another burning wave crashes over me. I fumble my belt, rip off my shoes, run down all the buttons on my dress shirt, silently thank whoever passed that zoning law again so that no one can see me like this. 

My head rushes, my skin burns and tingles as I lay naked on a pile of clothes on a snowless but obviously poorly insulated rooftop, being stared at by a giant straw deer. I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it. I’m going to die here, my last moments naked and looking insane.

I stare up at the darkening sky and a snowflake falls on my nose. The chill of it against my burning skin feels so good. it tingles soothingly and I let out a small moan of relief. I touch the spot where it landed, so smooth and soft.

Another snowflake lands on my right arm, replicating the same feelings. Again, I reach for it and find relief. Soon the falling snow creates these spots all over my body, soothing my pain. It feels so good. I lay on the roof rubbing my skin, trying to regain control of my breathing.

I stare up at the sky and see a big one, coming down on top of me. My eyes follow it as it descends right down and lands on my penis. I don’t even hesitate, my hand diving down to grab it. I gasp when my hand makes contact, touch has never felt so good before. I moan loudly and abandon whatever shreds of decency were holding me back. It’s electric, a shock blasting away all of my inhibitions. I’ve never been this aroused in my life.

One hand gripping my cock, the other dancing around my newly sensitive skin, I writhe on my pile of clothes. It’s so hard yet so soft and it feels so good, I can’t take my hand off, I can’t stop, and I don’t want to. The snowflakes keep falling on my body, each one splashing me with pleasure, pleasure that I can’t get enough of.

I’m not a person anyone, I am a vessel for my body’s pleasure. Time is passing but it doesn’t matter to me. The only thing that’s real anymore is sensation. The only thought that my brain can hold is that I’m close but I want to keep it going as long as I can. If I cum, I feel like something terrible is going to happen to me.

My free hand is bouncing around my skin, meeting each bare spot where the snow has touched me. It moves automatically, chasing each new ripple, riding up my chest. A snowflake lands on and so I must grab a nipple. The pleasure is too much, my brain short-circuits and I cum.

Each orgasmic pulse is stronger than the last. I can’t hold my head up anymore, my eyes rolled back, but I can feel my own cum raining down on my hand. It slips and spurts, the pressure of arousal reducing and letting it shrink down. Brain blown out by the experience, I’m not even worried as it shrinks smaller than my hand can even hold. When I can’t feel it anymore, my hand is free and I can lay drooling, motionless and thoughtless.

Exhausted in the afterglow on the roof, I can hear Wham! played out over the speakers in the square. What a nice Christmas song, a little deeper than the rest, I think approvingly. I rub my temples, that’s a strange thought. Don’t I hate Christmas? Something inside me disagrees, I mean, how could anyone hate Christmas? I’m probably just exhausted, yeah, exhausted. 

Shaking, I put my boxers and dress shirt back on and trudge back down to Veronica’s apartment. She’s still sleeping somehow. I toss the rest of my outfit in a corner and drag myself into her bathroom again. The mirror confirms what I had feared, what I’d thought impossible. My skin is clear, my hair is long and shaggy, my nipples strangely puffy, and it, it’s really gone and in it’s place is… I feel faint, tearing my eyes away. I crawl back into bed shocked and fall back into the emptiness of sleep, clutching Veronica.