Paragraph of a story The creature took a deep breath of the dry air and looked at his hurt arm. The wound had healed. The fur was impregnated with blood, but there was not even a scar. He stood up. One more time the reindeers trampled the ground, a loud bleat leaving their mouths. A calling for help. A gruesome laughter left the monster-Santa mouth and the reindeers retreated, shrinking against the sled, looking for a place to hide. The creature look around, seeing the frightened animals, but it quickly ignored them when he found the bag left in the ground. He took it, throwing all the gifts to the floor. One of his hands with long nails looked in the pockets of the ripped off coat he was still wearing until they found a piece of paper.