Every night I follow the same routine; I'm all about routines. I brush my teeth and wash my face with a plush towel. I close the bedroom curtains and give my dog Pete a kiss goodnight. And as usual, I crawl into bed and pull the thick covers over my shoulders.  In fact, almost everything I do is neatly written out on a schedule and just about everything in my home is organized. All my furniture has stayed in the same position all these years and everything in the kitchen cupboard is labeled. I even keep all my fine china dusted regularly; you never know when you may have company. I guess you could say I am a reasonable lad, but really, I hate change. In fact, I despise it. And wasted time? Don't even get me started on that!
       But tonight (unfortunately) would be different.
       Ever since my aunt gave me that strange elf doll last Christmas, I've heard strange noises and find the elf doll missing every night. I always thought it was Pete who took the doll. That would explain the scratching noises; Pete has long toenails and usually sounds like that as he walks across the wooden floorboards. But the sound every night was much quieter; like the sound of mice in the walls of someone's home. And Pete runs in the door each afternoon with the doll in his mouth wanting to play; he may have took it and brought it back to play with me.          
        And the doll was cheerful looking; with its large innocent eyes and chocolate colored hair. Rosy cheeks and a pointy hat. It even had the traditional curved shoes with bells. Why would I have suspicions about it?
        Assuming this, I ignored it and continued following my schedules. After all, things need to be done and I don't have the time for silly mysteries and nonsense. Every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, come home and clean. As you already know, I hate when things are out of order. Whether it's something out of place or just different. Every night I looked at that empty space on the shelf where that elf should have been. I told myself I didn't have the time and went to sleep. But it began to bother me. Why was it I dusted it daily and found it missing every night. That elf was always dirty (and not just with dog slobber!), then missing. Why was it every day I had to clean it? I an understand dirt, but how can it get covered in dust every evening? Dust doesn't collect that fast. And where has it been going? Something wasn't right, but I couldn't tell if that was my organized logic talking, or if it was some ridiculous instinct.
         I followed my night routine and curled up in bed. Pulling the covers up to my nose, I could pretend I was asleep and find out for myself how that elf disappeared every night. I waited and waited. Eventually, I opened my eyes to look at the time. 10:00, it read. Sighing, I placed my pocket watch back in the armoire and glanced at the shelf to see that doll staring at me. In fact, the doll had been turned specifically towards my bed. I honestly don't remember putting it like that after I dusted it earlier today. Strange. I looked at it again. It's innocent eyes weren't so innocent anymore. They were dark and mysterious. It seemed to be trying to look into my soul. Maybe even patiently waiting for me to fall asleep so he could stealthily come and hurt me in my slumber. Creepy. A small smirk was positioned on his lips, so little it may have been a smile, but when looked at close enough, could be visible. Shivers ran down my back. Something surely was wrong with this doll, and I was going to find out what.
          I noticed Pete had quietly hopped onto my bed and curled up at my feet. Gently petting him, I stare at the doll. It's eyes continued to stare at me, and his smirk was now quite visible. It didn't to anything; it only stared right back at me and continued doing that eerie grin. It didn't even blink! Starting to get frustrated at that elf doll, I laid back down on my feather pillow and closed my eyes once more. It's late and I'm most likely sleepier than I thought, but It made me furious to have such suspicions about something, then turn out wrong. I guess all good detectives feel like this at one point or another, but it was ridiculous that I allowed myself to think about something as outrageous as that. A living, breathing, creepy, sneaky, Christmas decoration? People would think I'm mad. And those wasted hours! I could have been sleeping! A grown man certainly doesn't need as much sleep as a child, but I need all I can get for tomorrow. I'm always worrying about that sort of stuff, but look at that! That time went right out the window!
            As I was debating, I heard that scratching noise. I looked up. Pete was sleeping at my feet and that creepy doll was not on its shelf. I steadied my breathing and listened. A faint shuffling noise could be heard in the kitchen. Slowly slipping out of bed so I wouldn't disturb the still sleeping Pete, I cautiously tiptoed out to the kitchen. On the table sat that elf doll. He, or at least I thought it was a he, was stuffing loaves of bread into a small sack. He must have heard something, because he looked up. I quickly darted back behind the corner and peaked at him from the hallway. Once his little sack was full, he jumped down from the table and went to a large pot on the stove. He looked at his reflection, then applied a heavy layer of powder to his face, arms and legs. When he decided he looked good enough, he walked out the front door. Great, I thought. I have a creepy, criminal, thieving elf doll in my house and Pete didn't suspect a thing. So much for having a guard dog. At least I now know why I'm always dusting it.
        I waited until the door had almost closed, and hurried behind him, gingerly shutting the door. It made a small "click" as the latch went back to position. I silently thanked myself for keeping everything so neat and prepared. If I hadn't oiled the hinges earlier this week, my cover would have been blown for sure. Snow swirled through the streets. A light breeze blew the snow in my face and I cursed at myself. Why couldn't I have grabbed a coat on the way out the door? Or at least a hat and scarf? I sighed. Too late now. I'll have to follow that thing around town in the cool December night air in only my nightclothes and slippers. The elf-thing continued walking, leaving small footprints in the freshly fallen snow. I crept after him, slowly and light on my feet to prevent heavy tracks in the snow.
        He rounded a corner and headed down a cobblestone alley. Snow had already soaked through my thin slippers and my hands began to numb. I knew I needed to warm up soon, or I might catch pneumonia. The elf turned another corner and walked up to an antique shop. He opened the door and a small bell chimed. I hurried again to the door and slipped in after him. He walked to the back of the store to meet another elf doll. I slowly crept up to them and hid behind a shelf. Gently moving boxes and china out of the way, I was able to peer at the elf dolls through a small space on the shelves. With their backs turned towards me, the elf from my house began taking the bread he stole from his sack and was dividing it between the two of them.
         "Thanks, after eating all those candy canes an elf sure could use something else in his diet."
         "You said it."
         What? This thing was stealing food from my house to give to his friend? He could've asked me! Then I wouldn't have had to go on this late night adventure. I could be sleeping right now! I mean it certainly would have been strange for this elf to ask for food, but I wouldn't let him starve. And candy canes; what was all that about? I leaned in closer and listened.
         "Come on, no more silly talk. Let's get down to business." The friend elf snatched the rest of the bread and threw it over his shoulder. He reached into his own sack and pulled out a map. I couldn't tell what the map was of, but the land forms were quite large. The second elf grabbed an old pocket watch off one of the shelves and a quill with ink. He began writing on the map, occasionally stopping to apply more ink to the quill. The friend elf watched him work and began to speak,
         "We have three days until Christmas Eve. That's when Santa makes his rounds delivering presents. He begins in Russia, then flies to Europe. I'm thinking our best chance is to stay here in London and wait. It would take too long to get tickets for a train to Russia, and we spent most of our money fleeing from the North Pole."
          "Yes! That sounds wonderful! And when we capture Santa, we would have ruined Christmas once and for all! I won't have to sing those ridiculous songs anymore, or make toys for all those brats!"
           "Shush! We may be the only ones up at this late hour, but you never know. We may get caught! This time we have to be more careful. The last time we did this landed us in jail cells." The elf who stole my bread began to whimper. It was clearly obvious that his friend was the one in charge.
            "I'm sorry, I just got so excited." said the little bread thief, tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.
            "Well, don't get excited. We haven't done the job yet." He took out a small tin and applied several layers of powder to his face. He handed it to his still sobbing friend; who added a layer to his tear smudged face.They continued plotting and I tried my best to not gasp. These elves were here in my town; one of them had been in my house, and were plotting to ruin Christmas!
             I slowly picked up a box I had previously put on the floor and crept up to the elves. Closer and closer I crept, until I was inches away from those elves and their devious plans. I took a deep breath and swiftly put the box over their heads, trapping them in a cardboard prison. They screamed and hollered for help, even though they knew no one would come to their rescue. I sealed the box shut and collected their maps and papers.
             When I got home, I threw the papers into the fireplace. I placed the box containing the elves on the dinning table and tossed more firewood in the flickering flames. The fire consumed the wood and the elves' papers slowly burned to ash.
              The next morning, I mailed the box to the North Pole. The man behind the counter at the post office gave me a strange look, but took it anyway. That same man came to my house on Christmas Eve to hand-deliver me a letter. He looked surprised, but slightly amused. I looked at the address and hurried inside.
              Opening the letter, I read;

Dearest Thomas,
Thank you for your generous deed. In fact, we can not thank you enough for what you have done. These two have been trying to ruin Christmas for years.At first we let them slide with only a brief warning, but obviously they did not heed our instructions. This past year they escaped from Polar Prison and fled. We have been trying to hunt them down, but haven't had any luck until you mailed them right back to us. Again I thank you, and have a wonderful Christmas!
-Santa
P.S.
No need to worry, neither of them will be paying you visits anytime soon. We have made improvements to the prison, and no longer use candy canes as cell bars; I believe they ate themselves out the first time.

             I smiled and placed the letter back into the envelope. This past week has been quite an adventure; between solving the elf mystery and training Pete. Hopefully he will be more alert next time we have intruders in the house. As I taught Pete, I too learned something new. Maybe change isn't so bad after all. I usually don't go places unless I absolutely need to, but I enjoyed the fresh night air (Even if I experienced it in only my nightclothes!). And being able to get out of the house and have an adventure? It felt lively!
             I saved Christmas and became a hero. No one may know me as the man who saved Christmas, but I did. That's all that matters. And maybe someday I will do something so extraordinary that people will recognize me. I can picture it now: Thomas Abbey; the man who saved Christmas and the world.