AN: So, I actually started this in September, but only really made progress with it in November. It's nearly complete, and I'll hopefully update it every two days or so with a new chapter until it's done (which shouldn't take long.) Each chapter is going to be one 'ghost' (past, present and future).

Warning(s): Any warnings you'd give to OFF apply to this story, although hopefully it will be less depressing than OFF.

Full summary:

Due to the dismal morale of the Zones, the Guardians and the Queen got together and thought of potential solutions and ways to cheer up the ever-terrified Elsen (Preferably without drugs made from corpses). The result was Christmas, or at least something quite like it. It was indeed the one time of year when the Elsen weren't afraid, or at least, they were less so. The other inhabitants of the zones enjoyed it as well, including a certain masked merchant, who saw sales skyrocket during this time period. There was but one who was happy during Christmas. Take a guess at who it was.

An OFF Christmas Carol

Part I: You Scrooge!

The Batter sighed in annoyance at the festive decor surrounding him. Lights of various colours adorned nearly every building and rubber fence. Even in the smoke mines of Damien, the usual lights had been replaced with red and green duplicates. How the ever irritated guardian of zone 1, Dedan, approved this, the Batter didn't know. To make matters worse, he wasn't alone, with the library of Bismark containing new books about some old industrialist learning the joys of Christmas, a bearded fat man breaking and entering in the middle of the night and the residential area filled with strange rings of green shrubbery and odd little circular bells that made noise when shaken. Even the lardass guardian of zone 3, Enoch, had contributed; the Elsen had a two week vacation, plus a powdery white substance fell from the sky. Judging from the smell, it was sugar, although, his Puppeteer insisted it was meant to mimic a similar white substance called "snow".

Whatever that was.

Even Zacharie, the masked merchant of their world, enjoyed this "holiday", sporting a red hat along with his frog-like mask during this time of year. To be fair, he was probably excited that people other than the Batter would be buying things from him. The merchant was always just a touch too happy when he and the Puppeteer showed up.

Pablo, better known as the Judge, had tried to convince the Batter that there was value in Christmas, but the sports pyjama clad purifier would refuse to change his opinion. "It is a rare and precious occasion to have a semblance of tranquility, let alone festivity, in the zones. Do try and appreciate it," he'd say.

"Bah humbug," the Batter ironically quoted Scrooge. Who in their right mind would even say that? The only "good" thing that came out of this Christmas was that there weren't nearly as many spectres as usual. Perhaps they were repelled by the mirth of the once easily scared inhabitants. Or - and the Batter shuddered at the thought - they were celebrating somewhere else on their own.

"Don't force me to join in on this," he said to his Puppeteer, ever monotonous.

On the inside, he was begging, pleading with the one who controlled his movements to not make him participate in the stupid and redundant tradition of Christmas. They currently mirrored his inner thoughts - eyes pleading - though it was instead to go and "enjoy this while it lasts". The baseball player could feel his strings being tugged at to go and join the nearby group of Elsen, who were wearing red or green ties instead of the usual black. For the first time ever, the Batter resisted the strings, but to no avail. He was half dragged to the Elsen.

"Hhhh... How nice of them to let us do this," one Elsen said, a small smile on his face.

"Yes, it's uh... very nice," another added.

The Batter internally groaned.

"Buenos dias, amigo. I didn't think I would see you here."

Zacharie. Great.

"I don't want to be here, but the Player won't let me leave," the Batter said irately.

A person manifested next to him, startling several Elsen. They wore a red T-shirt, dark blue jeans, brown boots and an unconventional pair of orange goggles with LED screens for lenses. An orange 'X' glowed on each screen.

"You could at least try to enjoy it," they said, hands folded across their chest. "You might even find yourself having fun."

"I'm not here to have fun, I'm here to purify the zones," the Batter replied.

The Puppeteer sighed in annoyance. Zacharie watched their passive-aggressive bickering with mild amusement glinting in his dark eyes.

"What is the point of a Christmas Carol parody, if you aren't anywhere near anything remotely Christmas-like?" he asked. "There's no story in that."

The Player nodded.

"Whatever," the Batter muttered.

"Hey!" a harsh voice was heard from across the room.

An abnormally tall shirtless man with large teeth and a dark green trench coat approached the group. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh no," the Player said with a worried glance towards the Batter; the man's hands were tightened around his signature baseball bat.

That's all we need now, they thought. Please don't go into combat...

"You should be enjoying the party!" Dedan exclaimed, uncharacteristically cheerful.

"Party?" the Batter asked. His thoughts directed to his Puppeteer, he snapped, This is a party now too?

"You weren't aware of what this celebratory occasion implied, oh sports themed purifier?"

"Pablo! It's good to see you, friend," Zacharie said with a laugh. "It seems the Batter isn't very keen on things like this."

The white cat's omnipresent grin widened.

"Then why is it that he has joined us in this lieu? Unless... Someone else is pulling the strings," he teased.

The Player waved and smiled sheepishly.

"I was hoping he could learn to appreciate other people's happiness," they admitted.

"Wishful thinking," Zacharie muttered so the Batter couldn't hear. His customer still narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

"This is distracting us from our mission," the Batter tried once more in convincing the Player that their time was being wasted.

"I think the only one distracted from anything is you, Batter," another voice said nearby.

A small songbird flew over to the group. "For tonight and tomorrow, we forget our differences and treasure this small piece of happiness and tranquility."

"It isn't real then," the Batter argued. "Real peace can only be achieved through-"

"Oh, for once, just forget about the purification of the zones in favour of the celebration!" Enoch, the large guardian of zone 3, said.

"Because that's helped you, lardass," the monochrome man snapped.

A silence came over the group. Even a few Elsen paused their activities and looked their way. Though no one could see it, the Player rolled their eyes in frustration.

"I've been your ultimate guide in this place, helping you without ever questioning anything. The least you could do is just try-"

"Try and waste our time? We have a holy mission-"

"To purify the zones, yes, but what is more pure than peace and happiness, Batter?"

"We'll know when our mission is completed, but you are slowing the process again!"

"I told you, that other time was my laptop was broken!" the Player explained for the umpteenth time. "You are never going to let me live that down, are you?

"You know what; don't answer that. You don't want to be here? Fine. See if I care. But I'm not helping you be a stick in the mud, a-"

"Prick!" Dedan offered.

"Spoil-sport!" Japhet added.

"Scrooge!" Zacharie suggested.

"Scrooge. Yeah, that fits perfectly, thank you Zacharie," the Player said.

They turned their attention back to their puppet. "You're acting just like him. And you know what happened to Scrooge, don't you?" The Batter shook his head, slightly confused. Where was the Puppeteer going with this...

"He-

"Was-

"ALONE!"

The Batter cried out in pain as the strings that held him since his awakening in this world suddenly released him. He collapsed to the floor like the abandoned marionette he was. Shakily returning to his feet, he glared at the one being he could truly call an ally. "Oh don't give me that. I'll still helping you after this, but until Christmas is over, you're on your own."

"You can't talk to them-" the Batter jerked his head towards the people behind him, "- anymore. You need me for that."

"I can still communicate with them in other ways. And they know I'm here."

"They can't see you."

"Could they ever see me before this?"

The Batter huffed in annoyance, before turning on his heel and marching off, Add-On Alpha in tow. Omega and Epsilon hovered uncertainly on the spot. While loyal to the Batter, and by extension, his Puppeteer, they weren't sure what to do in a situation like this. "Go with him. He's gonna need the help now that I'm not there," the Player said. With a musical hum, the two glowing rings shot after the purifier.

"If only Valerie could see this," the Judge sighed. "Have any of you seen my dear brother?"

An eerily cheerful xylophone riff played from an unknown source in the red room. A small, wide-eyed boy in a crimson jumper held a stuffed toy made to resemble a piece of meat.

"They left him alone," he said, coughing. "No one should be alone on Christmas."

"Who needs them?" the Batter yelled to no one, fending off a stray group of spectres.

They were stronger than usual. He swung his bat at a Blind Spectre, before it struck back and did a lovely number on his health. The Add-Ons fared no better, Epsilon out of competence points and Omega nearly dead. Alpha was trying to fight the poison coursing through its system.

He was back in the Damien smoke mines and swore that the spectres had doubled in strength and numbers since his last time here. The purple walls seemed to mock him as he desperately tried to complete his mission. But without the enhancements of a Player to back him up, he was left to make his own decisions, and could never seem to remember to heal himself or his allies. He had felt like this before; the Player would occasionally let him decide how to purify the spectres, but it wouldn't be long before they had to intervene, either to heal, or simply because the Batter wasn't being as efficient as they were. It wasn't his fault he didn't know all of the Add-Ons' abilities. How was he supposed to know Epsilon had a competency that let it attack all enemies at once?

"I don't need the Puppeteer to tell me what to do," he growled, smacking a spectre with particular malice at the word "puppeteer".

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the onslaught of spectres dwindled, and the quartet of purifiers were left in peace, for now. The Batter examined himself and the spherical entities aiding him. Pulling out a few Luck Tickets, and a piece of Belial's Meat for Alpha, he tended to their injuries, before noting Epsilon's lack of competency points. Much to his dismay, he found they had no Silver or Gold Flesh. He checked the black and red oozing remains of the spectres.

Nothing.

The Batter threw his weapon to the ground, struggling to contain his emotions. However, much like a professional sports player, he wasn't about to throw a fit. Even though the Player had said they abandoned him, he could still feel their gaze on him. Maybe they were amused by his attempts to manage on his own.

Maybe they regretted their choice to leave him.

He couldn't go any further. Without the strings to support him and give him a strange endurance, paired with the increased difficulty with battles he was experiencing, the Batter was exhausted. He wasn't alone in this, for the three glowing rings hovered closer to the ground than normal, their light shining less and less. It was only the monochrome man's hubris that kept him going at this point. He never realized how powerful the spectres were when he was on his own.

Groaning in realization that the Player would never let him live this down, the Batter staggered out of the mines and into the small building near the Pentel train. Once safely inside, he promptly collapsed on the floor, the Add-Ons not too far behind. They were down to two; Epsilon was no more than a slightly cracked, dark ring, held up by its weary brothers. The drained purifier fought with last grains of his strength against the veil of sleep, but it was fruitless. His eyes closed, no creature, spectre or otherwise, able to wake him.

Ooh, I bet you can't guess what will happen next!

Sorry, my sense of humour is quite pathetic.