There is a sense of relief felt by the group, unspoken but strong

He looks over the still hard working children and spots one girl, about 10 years old, who while working furiously is quietly comforting the smaller boy next to her - a newcomer who is most miserable. Occasionally she gives him a quick hand to keep him from falling behind. Santa walks over to her. She stops her whispering and stares straight down at her work, her hands desperately busy. Santa puts his hand down to stop her, and pushes her chin up to look at her.

Santa pulls out a small, sharp knife from his belt and hands it to the girl.

As he speaks he pulls the little boy next to her up by the left arm so he is dangling in the air. He pulls the boys hand to his mouth and bites into his fingers. With a crunch and a crack, he tears off three of them, and spits them onto the ground. The little boy scream in agony, kicking the air desperately trying to get away somehow.

He puts the boy's whole hand between his teeth. Warm blood from the severed fingers squirts into his mouth, some trickling down the back of his throat, some dribbling out onto his beard and dripping down onto the ground. The boy writhes in agony, crying hysterically.

Santa's response is to bite down again. The boy squeals and yelps, babbling in pain, with tears running down his face as Santa rips away his hand, leaving a mangled stump. This time Santa doesn't spit it out, instead chomping and crunching on the bone and flesh, and swallowing the lot.

Confused and in shock, the little girl looks around at the terrified faces of the other slaves nearby, who are all still working desperately, trying not to draw attention to themselves. They have learnt from past experience not to stop and watch. The girl staggers over to another boy, a bit older, and raises her knife over his back, confused. Santa watches with glee, but glee turns to disgust as she breaks down crying.

With that he puts the handless boy under his left arm. He is weakened now with the loss of blood, and is delirious with the pain. Tightening his grip with his elbow, he curls his right arm around the boys neck, and pulls. The head rips off in a spray of blood as the body spasms in a final convulsion. Gripping the head with his thumb in the neck socket, and forefingers in the mouth, he walks over to the girl. She is trembling and barely able to stand. The knife clatters to the floor as she backs up to the wall.

The little girl is unable to answer. Sobbing uncontrollably she sinks to the ground, curling up into a ball with her head between her legs.

With that he walks over to the nearest living worker, another girl, and using the boy's severed head, begins beating her with it. At first she squeals in pain but with each dull blow she is quieter. She lies in a heap on the ground, blow flowing out her crushed head from her ears and mouth. The little boy's head is also badly smashed, so Santa drops it. He scans the factory, looking for both his next victim , and a suitable implement to dispatch them with. All of the children are terrified but despite this all they know if they run they will de killed by guards outside. If they stay they may have at least some chance. The little girl with the knife realises this too. Pulling herself together, she walks over to a young boy, barely 6 years old, and puts the kife to his throat. Santa looks on with interest.

Knowing he will continue to kill if she doesn't do as he says, she lowers the knife to his belly, and whispering apologies in the terrified boy's ear, she hacks into his belly. The knife is not terribly sharp, but she manages to tear it open and the intesines spill out. The boy babbles with his fear, the pain has not registered. He stares down in disbelief at the bulging pink grey matter protruding from his stomach. The girl grabs at his guts and pulls. Now the pain overcomes the shock, and he screams. But not for long, as she coils a bit of intestine around his neck, and begins to choke hime with it. Her heart is racing, as she looks to Santa for approval. She has it. He is just standing, watching, with a satisfied look on his face. The boy's breathing becomes desperate, he clutches at his throat trying to get air to his lungs. She releases her grip slightly, and he gasps sharply, inhaling as deeply as she can. But he is beginning to weaken from the massive trauma to his belly, and will soon die anyway. The girl lets go of the boy completely. He sinks to the ground, as she kneels in front of him. In a sudden frenzy, she plunges the knife over and over into his face, through his eyes, ripping his cheeks and moth to pieces. The blade breaks on the bone, and she stands up and steps back, breathing heavily. She is deep in thought, trying to figure out what she has just done. Something inside her almost enjoyed that, as terrible as it was.

She turns to Santa, who has come to her side to inspect her handiwork.