Page 41 of Scary & Bright
THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT
Staying hidden had been much harder than he expected, but the Christmas Spirit had somehow, against all odds, prevented his own discovery for several days. He knew things in the South Pole were not going as well as they had in previous years, but every day that passed assured the Spirit that things were so much worse than he could have imagined.
He wanted to return to the North Pole as soon as he witnessed Krampus carrying the girl up to his room. He wanted to return when he watched as the beast waited on her hand and foot, nursing her back to health rather than simply escorting her the rest of the way toward death. The Spirit argued with himself internally, wondering at what point he should bring the news that Krampus was acting strangely. So far, he really didn’t have much else to tell his boss, other than more of the same. He was being oddly nice. He was taking care of her and keeping her warm, even after she tried to escape. And sure, maybe that was enough, but even if it was odd behavior, was it worth Santa getting himself in a tizzy over? Besides, there was also the possibility that all this could still be nothing. It could just be the result of a lonely, horrifying creature beginning to lose his marbles and deciding it was best to make the guests comfortable and happy before introducing them to their bloody fate.
Santa Claus was a busy man, and the Spirit didn’t want to return without something of great value to tell. Something more than the nonsensical ins and outs of a demonic looking beast and his prisoner. Because, as strange as Krampus’s behavior was, there still wasn’t a clear-cut reason why he was doing this. The Christmas Spirit even wondered for a bit if all the strange things Krampus was doing were some sort of sick drawn-out game he was playing. Certainly, there wasn’t a need to deploy the troops if this was all just a misunderstanding. Right?
Right? He wasn’t going to be labeled the Ghost of Christmas Panic.
Truly, there was no understanding of the creature, and the Spirit wasn’t here to try to uncover all the deep, innermost workings of the darker side of Christmas magic. He was, however, going to keep watching him until his actions made enough sense to report back to Santa Claus.
Then, one morning, the pattern began to change. The girl vacated the beast’s room on her own, and the Spirit watched her from one of his most commonly used hiding places within the Great Tree. She was moving quickly, as if she were on a mission, her bare feet padding confidently through the halls—not at all like a girl staring death in the face. Although, that couldn’t be the proof he needed. After all, there was always the possibility that all the sweet things he’d said to her were a farce. Perhaps there was something beneficial to sweetening a kill beforehand—the Spirit had never hung out long enough to watch the beast’s process.
But as the girl took her time in the library, the Spirit slunk down the trunk of the Great Tree, keeping himself entirely invisible as he bounced from ornament to ornament, banister to banister. He appeared as brief puffs of snow and glitter, which disappeared quickly along the spiraling balcony. He moved swiftly as he made his way to the library to spy on what she might be getting into.
When he arrived in the library, he realized with an awful, sinking feeling that his suspicion had been true all along. The girl and her rocking horse friend were discussing whether she and Krampus were in love. Preposterous! Krampus didn’t love anything, let alone some cookie-cutter human girl who’d landed herself on the Naughty List.
He had seen plenty of her side of things. Truthfully, he didn’t need to see her side of things to begin with, but he appreciated gathering the full story, and he imagined Santa Claus might appreciate it as well. The Spirit darted from the room as quickly as possible and was pleased at his near-perfect timing.
Krampus was leaving his room. The monster looked pleased with himself rather than hungry or bloodthirsty, only cementing the Spirit’s sinking feeling. The Christmas Spirit had genuinely hoped that the playful and kind behavior he’d been displaying had been an act to butter up the girl. Since he’d plucked her from her horribly attempted escape, the two of them hadn’t really had any time apart—perhaps this was it. This was the Spirit’s chance to get a glimpse of how Krampus’s behavior changed when the girl wasn’t around. Or, if it changed at all. Both possibilities were worth noting. Worth reporting.
So, the Spirit darted back into the Great Tree and pressed himself in the pine needles closest to the trunk as he ascended higher and higher into the castle and directly into Krampus’s study.
The beast and his teddy bear friend wasted no time getting to the meat and potatoes of their conversation, and the Spirit barely registered the details. There was only one thing he needed to know, and Krampus made that information widely accessible.
His kindness wasn’t an act. His affection wasn’t an act. None of this was an act. The only thing the Spirit needed to know was that Krampus was absolutely not going to complete his task. He wasn’t going to do his part, so Santa wasn’t going to be able to do his. On top of that, if what he was hearing was entirely true, it meant that Krampus was also unafraid of the collar. He no longer shrank from his punishment for not following through with his responsibility.
Things had gotten mighty, mighty out of control.
Without even checking to make sure that he was being stealthy and staying hidden, the Spirit vanished once again and made quick work of getting back to the North Pole.
* * *
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Santa Claus said, his voice wrecked with exhaustion. The large man slumped heavily in the leather chair situated behind his desk and began to massage his temples. “You have got to be stinkin’ kidding me.”
The Christmas Spirit floated in front of Santa, trying to remain as formal as possible. There was always the worry that if he moved casually in any way, that it could be seen as not taking the situation seriously. This was the first time in days the Spirit had been able to exist in his standard form—a ghostly human man in his vintage night clothes—and he was thankful to have the opportunity to stretch his legs, so to speak. Although, he had to admit, he wished it was under much better circumstances.
“I wish it was a joke as well, sir,” the Spirit said empathetically. “I waited until I was absolutely certain the circumstances were as they are because, like you suggested last time, I hoped it was just Krampus playing with his food.”
“If wishes were reindeer, beggars would ride,” Santa groaned as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. “There’s no use in dwelling on the situation. Best to meet it head on, and the sooner the better. The longer we wait, the more time will be wasted. Nobody needs this sort of burden hanging over their head this close to Christmas Eve.”
Santa Claus rested one hand on his lower back and picked up the handle of the phone sitting on his desk, then hit a series of numbers before holding the receiver to his ear.
“Ginger! Yes, hello,” he spoke into the phone with his usual professional kindness, but in a quieter tone than usual so as not to alert the elves in the Penthouse all immersed in their craft.
The Spirit recognized the name of the elf in charge of North Pole Community Relations. If Santa was calling Ginger, that meant he intended to hold a meeting in one way or another.
“I need you to do me a favor, and quickly, if you don’t mind,” Santa continued, reaching for a toothpick from the cup beside the phone and jamming it into his mouth. “Would you be so kind as to get a hold of the Pole Protection Authority? And keep all this under wraps as best you can. I don’t want to cause any unnecessary panic.”
The Spirit wished he could hear the other half of the conversation, but whenever Santa paused to let the she-elf speak, all he could hear was incoherent high-pitched rambling.
“Oh, no, it’s nothing too terrible quite yet.” Santa chuckled, clearly trying to keep a certain level of calm in an otherwise very high-stress situation. “I just need to get a team ready to head to the South Pole…” He paused, and the Spirit could hear a frantic squeal of panic coming from the phone. “My brother just needs a bit of coaxing, that’s all… Uh-huh… Right, exactly. I’m not worried, so nobody else should be worried. I just want to make sure I’ve got the necessary numbers to travel down there in case Krampus wants to be difficult.”
Another long pause made the Christmas Spirit stand on edge. Santa was putting quite a lot of faith into Ginger. If she happened to tell anyone outside of the few individuals Santa asked her to tell, the Workshop would be an absolute madhouse. It had been so long since Krampus caused a stir like this that there were plenty of elflings who only considered such a thing as a scary story meant to keep them in line.
“And you know what, Ginger?” Santa said with a faux lift in his voice. “Why don’t you see if the Protection Authority won’t send along some of their Bear Riders? Yeah, better safe than sorry, you know… Absolutely… And you know what? I’ll host them at the cottage rather than in the Workshop—like I said, I don’t want to cause a ruckus.”
Bear riders? The cottage? The Spirit’s mind was reeling. Santa really was planning to go full-out. The Bear Riders were the cavalry of the North Pole and a position saved for only the most capable and powerful of all the elf warriors. It took quite a bit of strength and heart to train in the North Pole, but ten times the nerve to seek out polar bears and break the beasts until they were dedicated to their master. They were an impressive sight and hadn’t been utilized at all since the Yeti Migration incident a few decades back, when a herd decided to waltz right through the North Pole and destroy anything in their path. The Bear Riders showed off their prowess and became heroes right away, steering the Yetis in a better direction without causing excessive harm.