Updated 2017 - I did a godawful job of uploading this last year so like, I fixed it and stuff.

The story itself is still terrible but at least it's all here now I guess?

Christmas Eve, 2K16:

Some days Darren wished someone had taken the time to read him the princely job description before investing him. Sure it was the only thing that kept him off the stakes at the time, but in his bitterest moments he felt he'd rather deal with that than meet with yet another bitchy princess-ass general about unlikely Vampaneze rumours or hold a trial over some minor discrepancy that nobody actually cared about. But naturally, the noble duty suddenly fell to the kid.

In the past month, Darren had presided at 5 meetings with the generals' council, supervised 4 different vampires' Trials of Initiation, let 3 accused traitors off with a warning rather than a steak through the heart (it was Christmas after all and he was a bit of a wimp), held 2 negotiation sessions with the Guardians of the Blood… all that responsibility, plus a literal partridge in a pear tree. Well, almost literal. Mika and Arrow had secured a beautiful Christmas tree (the only useful thing they'd accomplished in the past month) for the Hall of Princes but little did they know it was home to a particularly territorial partridge. Or something. It moved so quickly and aggressively nobody could identify it. Suffice it to say it was not happy about the re-location of its tree, and had taken it upon itself to dive bomb anyone who came within 10 feet. Except Harkat, who apparently was a fricking bird whisperer.

But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Everything was going to be fine, because his shift in the Hall of Princes ended in 5 minutes and tomorrow morning, his vacation began. The first vacation in recent memory which didn't involve him hauling a horde of belligerent barbarians with iPhones. That's right, he was going it alone. To Vegas, to be specific. Ronnie had invited him to spend Christmas with her family. They'd bake cookies, go to beautiful concerts, shop for hours, kiss under mistletoe… it would be flawless. He'd spent the past month planning the trip; most of such planning included taking measures to ensure Vampire Mountain didn't follow him to Vegas. Again.

Things were looking good, though. Even his squad had been behaving better than usual. The aforementioned tree had been decorated beautifully and without prompting on Darren's part. Harkat had been baking a steady stream of cookies, which actually resembled the ones Kurda picked out on Pinterest. Mika and Arrow had decked the halls to within an inch of their lives and it looked admittedly spectacular. Armed with the hundred-foot ladder of death, they'd lined every main wall and doorway with massive evergreen boughs and wreathes. Kurda and Larten had tag-teamed the lower areas like tabletops and corners. Their combined areas of décor expertise could've been disastrous, but instead turned out to be the perfect balance of sparkly and old-school classy. Paris had finally installed the surround sound system he'd bought last boxing day and put together some of the best Spotify playlists anyone had ever heard. But that was only the beginning, he'd set up his very own radio station and was on constant broadcast throughout the mountain. It featured hits like "The Skyle Evening Report", "The Afternoon Fashion Police with Kurda Smahlt", "Cooking With Harkat", and "Why Life Was Better When I Was Your Age" (featuring Seba Nile. Obviously).

Life in Vampire Mountain was undoubtedly better than ever. Darren was almost sorry he wouldn't be around for the holidays. Then he opened a snapchat from Ronnie… nah, he wasn't really that sorry. Still, he was proud of his squad being all civilized and festive and whatnot. Maybe he'd even Facetime them on Christmas morning. This was going to be the best holiday ever. It's wonderful life and God bless us everyone!

He should've kicked himself in the face for letting his hopes get that high.

"Darren! Darren! Darrendarrendarrendaren!"

The Hall doors whooshed open and in ran Harkat, Larten, and Kurda.

"A good eve's tiding to you, my dear friends!" Darren boomed ('boom' is a relative term; he hasn't hit puberty yet). "How may I help you on this glorious night?"

"Oh my gods, Harkat. Look how happy he is. We cannot tell him." Kurda hissed in a pitifully loud stage whisper. The little person narrowed his luminous green eyes in exasperation.

"The entire mountain… just heard you…. so we're somewhat obligated… now." Harkat sighed.

"I can't." Kurda whimpered.

"Sweet Mary, Jesus and Joseph, guys. What's the problem?" Darren ventured, somewhat unsettled.

Kurda and Harkat exchanged a dismayed glance. Larten rolled his eyes.

"By the black blood of Harnon Oan, you two are hopeless." The orange-haired man snorted. Then looked Darren in the eye. "Now, Master Shan. I know you are nearing manhood in years, although not in body. You are strong enough to gracefully bear the news I am about to give you."

Darren rose from his throne with what he imagined was an air of nobility, and descended the steps with equal finesse. He approached his mentor and set his hands on his shoulders.

"You can tell me anything, my dear teacher. I will remain strong and proud as you have always taught me." The boy prince eloquated.

Larten heaved a long sigh.

"Your flight to Vegas has been cancelled."

Darren giggled. He loved when Mr. Crepsley tried to make jokes.

"You're so funny. Now what's really wrong? Did Harkat spill flour all over the kitchen again?"

"You will not be spending Christmas in Vegas, Darren. Your flight is cancelled. Every flight is cancelled. Every road is closed. Even trains have stopped running." He solemnly handed Darren an iPad.

With shaking hands, Darren read the screen. It was a news page of some sort, showing an indiscernible glowing red map, and phrases like "snowmageddon", "second ice age", "everything cancelled, go back to bed", and "the end is coming". There were paragraphs of more detailed information but Darren was unable to read them on account of the mammoth tear globs forming in his eyes. He slowly handed the iPad back to Larten.

"Excuse me." He croaked, before power-walking out of the hall and all the way up to his cell where he proceeded to abandon himself to a fit of sobbing, pillow-punching, stuff-destroying, screaming profanities that even gnarly Arrow would flinch at, and a bit of intermittent squawking when he ran out of oxygen. Wonderful life, his ass.

###

"I don't hear anything." Mika noted, ear held to the outside of Darren's door.

"Perhaps he asphyxiated." Seba pondered somberly.

"Darren? Buddy? You dead?" Arrow called hopefully, knocking softly on the door.

"We made you… candy cane hot chocolate! And a… special cookie!" Harkat added.

"This display of nonsense is preposterous." Larten growled. "Not only did I teach the boy better than this, but he should be grateful he gets to spend the holidays in our company. He dedicated years to accustoming us to his traditions, and now that we are performing them masterfully, he decides to up and leave us in favor of his lover? Serves him right, I say."

"Why are you so harsh?!" Kurda griped, swatting Larten's shoulder with a pristine turquoise mitten.

"That is rather cruel, Larten. Even from you." Paris added reproachfully. "The boy was merely trying to spread his wings and leave the nest."

"He should stay in the nest. The nest will not break his heart." Larten retorted.

"Watch out, Creps. People might think you care." Mika rolled his eyes.

Larten muttered something under his breath. Nobody could make it out, but the word "preposterous" resurfaced.

"Enough of this. We're going in." Arrow declared, eyeing up the door.

"Derek Morgan style?!" Kurda gasped, resembling the heart eyes emoji.

"Derek Morgan style." Arrow affirmed.

"Lock and load, bring on the pain." Mika punched his fist into his other fist, a ritual display of masculinity or something like that.

And Arrow proceeded to Derek Morgan the door. He did so with such gusto that he did not pause to think that Darren might be lying on the floor, which he was, and that the door might land directly on his face. Which it did.

"Guys, look! He's alive! … Kinda."

The squad spent next little while testing a variety of doctor-ish skills that had been picked up over the years, and digging through the First-Aid kit Darren kept under his bed. The same kit Mika and Arrow had teased him mercilessly for.

"Why were you even lying on the floor? You have a perfectly good coffin." Larten chided as Harkat held an ice pack to Darren's purpling face.

"I was contemplating the infinite blackness of space and the insignificance of my life." Darren lamented.

"You could have done that in your coffin."

Kurda facepalmed. "What your mentor most dreary was trying to say, is that… umm… you need to pick yourself up of the floor. Like, the metaphorical floor. And maybe the literal floor too… 'cause germs. The last thing you need is to contract Zika at Christmas. That would be ratchet."

"Where were you going with this?" Darren mumbled past the ice pack.

"Ummm… give me a sec…"

"Come on, buddy. It could always be worse." Said Arrow, as he wrapped a tenser bandage around Darren's sprained elbow. "You could be like, on fire or something. That would be pretty bad, right?"

"Do not coddle the boy. He should be grateful he gets to spend Christmas with his famil- I mean, peers. After all the years he spent forcing us to celebrate-"

"I already heard your rant. It's a pretty thin door." Darren growled.

"It's tougher than you though." Mika added as he finished securing an airboot cast to Darren's leg. "You'll be on crutches for a week. Vegas would be no fun on crutches, just saying. This is really a blessing."

"If I was still going to Vegas, I wouldn't have been lying on the floor contemplating jumping off the mountain in the first place."

"You don't know that." Mika lipped.

"Alright, young Shan." Paris launched into something that would hopefully be inspiring because everyone else was out of ideas. "You can pity yourself all you want, but there is no helping your situation. It's almost Christmas and Vampire Mountain has never been more festive, and it is all indirectly thanks to you. You are a prince. Now, dust yourself off and set an example for your fellows."

Darren heaved a mournful sigh and stared at his feet for a moment or two, then slowly raised his head. This was it, in a second there would be hugs and apologies and happy tears and maybe a Christmas carol. But there was only hatred in his eyes and a cold lack of emotion upon his bruised face. Even Mika flinched. Darren case his blazing glare around the room and uttered three words that made present company doubt everything they'd ever believed in:

"I hate Christmas."

Paris and Larten clapped their hands over their mouths. Mika and Arrow went deathly pale as though they'd just seen the lowest level of hell. Harkat started to cry out of shock and confusion. Kurda gasped so hard he fainted for a few minutes. Seba muttered something about overturning the government.

"You do not mean that." Larten spoke up at last. "You love Christmas. You have dragged us into doing ridiculous activities every year, some of which have nearly cost us our lives, all in the name of festivity! I cannot accept this."

"Accept it. Christmas is where happiness goes to die. I quit."

And with that, Darren stood up abruptly and attempted to sashay out of the room in a dark, brooding manner… however he forgot about his broken ankle, and promptly tipped over.

"Harkat, pass me my crutches."