A Christmas Krampus Conundrum

To celebrate the wintery holiday season, I’m taking part in Nevermet Press’s excellent Krampus Christmas Carnival. They supply some wonderful artwork by the superb illustrator  Steven Austin of everyone’s favourite Christmas Demon, Krampus, and us bloggers do something to celebrate. As I’m a writer, I’ve decided to tap out a short flash fiction on the horned one. So, here I present:

A Christmas Krampus Conundrum.

When the door closes, that’s when the noises start. Boogeymen, ghouls, trolls, insane rampaging action man, demented stretch Armstrong, crazed rock ‘em sock ‘em robots. Every dark nook or shadowy crevice is full to the brim with menace and ancient horrors.

“N’night Billy boy, sleep tight otherwise Santa won’t bring your presents for you,” his father said.

His heart began to beat quicker as the slowly closing door snuffed out the last of the landing light. Only a thin crack of yellow can be seen underneath the door. Shadowy footsteps occasionally passed by. Parents, little bother, something else?

Glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling, supposedly stars and moons now seem like eyes glaring from some black abyss. Did one just blink? What’s that in the corner? Something is scratching outside the bedroom. The cat?

Billy pulled the covers over his head. Started to sweat as his hot breath soon filled his safe haven with warm air. Have to breathe, need a gap. Billy opens the duvet a crack and inhales the cold December air. A relief; his lungs fill with cool air. Is that why he shuddered? Or is it because of that rattling noise outside? Was it the over-long tree branch tapping, scraping at his window…no, something more metallic. The sound grew louder. Was it on the roof? Chink. Chink. Chink. And then thuds… footsteps?

Was that regular pounding his heart trying to escape his chest? The throb of blood as it’s pumped through the veins in his ears? Chink. Chink. Clank. No, something else.

Sweat dripped his eyes. It stung slightly with salt. Tears welled. He squeezed his eyes tight, took in a deep breath. Told himself he was just imagining it all like his mom and dad had said. ‘There’s nothing out there. Just the wind,’ they would say.

Billy lifted the duvet further. A light attracted his attention. Outside, beyond the window, hovering in front of the great barren Elm, two yellow orbs floated. They grew larger as they approached the window. Their sickly glow illuminated something that looked like fur. It rippled in the wind. Then a white, sharp object came into view. Tap tap tapped at the window. Those orbs blinked.

Billy jumped back further into his bed. Pulled the duvet up around his chin. But he couldn’t look away. He watched in horror as a clawed hand worked at the window. A frozen snort eased its way into his bedroom as the window opened. The dark, furred shape entered silently. Long arms and strong hands with bone-coloured claws gripped the window frame and pulled itself fully into the room. Its long face seemed to grin. Hideous fangs dripped with saliva. Large, twisted horns scraped the ceiling, knocking down the glowing, blinking stars. It laughed, low, almost a gurgle. Its breath stunk like rotten meat. Hanging from its belt was a pair of rusted chains that clanked together as he moved. A wide wooden paddle hung from the other side, swaying as he stalked closer.

Billy sucked in his breath as he uttered the word, ‘Krampus…’

The demon grinned. Blood-red tongue flickered out and played with sharp fangs. It took just two steps and loomed over Billy’s bed. Its face dominated his vision. Tears fell from Billy like a torrent. A warm feeling spread under the duvet as he wet the bed.

“You’ve been a bad little boy, Billy. Time to pay ol’Krampus.” It reached for the wooden paddle. His voice was like controlled thunder. He smelt like the forest: damp wood and moss.

Billy tried to move further away, but a clawed hand swiftly grabbed a leg through the duvet and pinned him.

“Hold still little one, otherwise this will be unnecessarily messy.”

Krampus pulled Billy closer to him and rolled him over onto his stomach. Billy tried to scream as a rusted chain was wrapped around his arms and legs, but no voice would come. He wanted to call for mom and dad. Surely they could hear this and would come running any minute?

Krampus laughed that low rumble again. Turned Billy onto his back, wrapped in chains. “Any last words, little one, before I take you away?”

Billy choked on his words. His heart was beating so hard he thought it would burst right out of his chest. Eventually he caught his breath, and managed to squeak out a few words. “You’ve got the…wrong…one. I’ve been good.  It’s my brother… in…the next room… please…don’t take me…away.”

“No, Billy, you will be fine. I can taste your fear already. You will make a fine meal.”

“Please, no. I’m all skinny. There’s nothing of me. Just bone and gristle. David in the next room is fat and juicy.”

Krampus eased his grip on the boy. “Hmm, I could just take you both. But only one of you has been bad…and that is you.”

“Please, leave me, take David, he’ll make a much better meal than me.”

The air in the room took an arctic drop in temperature as Krampus puffed out a thick, pale mist. The white vapor engulfed the room. Billy thought he was in trapped in cotton-wool. He closed his eyes, praying his parents would hear his thoughts and save him. When he opened them again, the room was as it was before. No Krampus, no mist. Normal temperature. Blinking, glowing things on the ceiling. The tree branch scraping against his the window. “Hah! A nightmare. It was just a nightmare.” The wet patch in the bed convinced him. He always wet the bed during a nightmare.

After changing his sheets, he slept soundly before being woke by screams. His mom and dad were shouting, “David, David!”

Billy jumped out of his bed and ran into his little brothers room. “Merry Christmas, Davey, let’s go see what Santa brought us.”

Billy stopped dead. The bed was empty.

The curtain billowed into the room from the open window. The duvet was swept aside, and half on the floor. It was freezing cold to touch and covered in frost.

From the bed, and leading a trail to the window were fragments of rust.

On the wind, Billy heard a low, laughing rumble.