A Noelle for Santa (Violent Night Fan Fiction)

Chapter 4: Mr. Scrooge

Sipping down some spiked eggnog, an overweight security guard was keeping watch of all the cameras that were set up in every corner of the property. The tall, Scandinavian cater walks into the security room, catching the sight of the guard wiping his mouth and sucking on his fingers to catch the drops of eggnog that spilled from his glass. He mutters softly in disgust and walks towards the man.

"You know, uh," His thick Scandinavian accent rolls off his lips as he discreetly shuts the door, "Christmas is all right, but you Americans don't celebrate my favorite holiday." He says as the guard turns around to face him.

The guard shrugs, "Oh, yeah? What?"

"Boxing Day."

The guard frowns and grunts as the man swings a strong left fist across his face, knocking him out cold. The man stands over the guard, checking his work. He should be out for the rest of the night, but he'll tie him up soon. He checks his watch and clicks the button. It was go-time.

In unison, every server from the cater company carried a watch. As the man clicked his watch, it sends off an alarm to them all. A red flashing snowflake chiming in alert. Every server was ready. One by one, they leave their post and prepare themselves. The Scandinavian man heads for the guard's gun shelf and grabs an semi-auto rifle, cocking it and turns towards the house's main phone lines and network.

Noelle sighs as she walks back into the living room and frowns when she sees the server leaving her station. But, maybe she needed a break. She wouldn't blame her. She walks over and pours herself a glass, watching Bert continue his live streaming.

"Yo, yo, B. Lightstone here, live streaming the dream, you know. They say the richest man..."

Noelle sighs and rolls her eyes as she sips her drink.

The Scandinavian man grips the wires in his hand and smirks, "Say Good-bye." With a firm yank, he pulls out all the important wires from the breaker. Cutting the family off from any source of calling for help.

"And if you..." Bert's face suddenly drops, frowning in anger. He lost connection with his internet. "Grandma! Your wi-fi sucks dick! Damn it!" He yells.

Gertrude sat on the couch, rolling her eyes as Alva and Morgan sat next to her. Morgan was gaining a headache from impatience, dying to talk to her about funding the movie for him.

"When he was small, I begged you to beat him."

Alva gasps softly, but says nothing. Just swirling her wine glass. Morgan looks up as he sees Noelle. He hops out of his seat quickly and moves to stand next to her.

"You're a doctor, right?" He asks.

Noelle sighs and clears her throat, "Um, yes, that's right."

"Oh, perfect. You see, I've been thinking about getting some work done on myself. Maybe a chin job. Definitely come glute implants. And can't go wrong with a dick job. I mean I have a great size..." He chuckles and smirks in pride, "But for camera size, I'm thinking about increasing it a few inches and girth."

Noelle sighs, uncomfortable with the conversation, "Um, Morgan, I'm not that kind of doctor. And I definitely wouldn't recommend cosmetic surgery. I mean..." She flinches when he places his hand on her back.

"Yet, I believe it would do wonders for my career. Sure, I look perfect now...but how long will that last?" His hand, suddenly, moves lower.

Noelle grits her teeth and brings her knee to his crotch. With a loud, high-pitch yelp, Morgan grabs himself and falls to the ground. Gertrude and Alva both jump when Bert frowns as he watches.