Page 52 of Scary & Bright
22
HOLLY
I wanted to be angry. I wanted so badly to be angry, but when faced with the option of remaining angry or accepting whatever it was that Krampus was willing to give me, I preferred the latter. Time moved more quickly after that painful conversation we had after I’d spoken with Mister. I had no more mysteries to solve and no more problems to confront. There were no longer any distractions for me. Things were as they were going to be, and rather than waste my breath trying to convince the creature I’d had the radically unfortunate timing of falling in love with that it was a good idea to put stock into a happy ending, I smashed those feelings down, down, down. As deep as I could shove them.
With Krampus’s decision to sacrifice himself on my behalf, it did bring about another unfortunate train of thought into my mind’s station: what was going to happen to me after everything was said and done? I wasn’t so ignorant to assume I’d be able to stay in the castle without Krampus. What would happen to the magic here? The toys? Would I be doomed to die, anyway? How could I possibly return home?
Just more thoughts to shove down with the rest. The act of sorting my thoughts and feelings was making me a remarkably superstitious person, which was an experience I’d never felt before. I felt like if I allowed myself the space to worry and panic, I was giving more power to those possibilities becoming real. So, I didn’t. Or at least I tried not to. Ultimately, in the middle of the night, when the castle was quiet and the sound of Krampus’s steady breathing hadn’t yet lulled me to sleep, the worry would set in against my will.
However stressful the nights might have been, the days were an entirely different story. Krampus was obviously fostering a bit of guilt at our disagreement and went above and beyond to try to dull the blow of his raised voice taking the wind out of my sails. We baked cakes and cookies from recipes found in his various libraries. We took sleigh rides in the rare moments when the wind was low, and I offered Coal plenty of apples and carrots to win him over.
And we were intimate. As soon as we’d crossed that unspoken finish line in the conservatory, we were always one breath away from devouring each other. The sex was incredible and accomplished two things—it provided the opportunity to be as close together as physically possible and provided an excellent distraction from all that waited for us on the horizon.
Until the horizon found us before we were ready.
We were in bed curled against each other with the covers pulled over our heads in that blissful half-awake part of the morning when your brain starts to stir but your body is still gathering the energy to get out of bed. Our naked bodies created an oasis of warmth, and if that morning was like any of the others we’d spent together since sharing our I love yous, then I expected we would find a way to enjoy each other before rolling out of bed and stumbling to the shower.
But this morning we were not slow to roll out of bed. We were startled by the sound of frantic pounding on the door, followed by the sound of Mister Bear’s voice, absolutely ravaged with panic.
“Krampus! Krampus! You must wake up!” he cried. The little bear must have found something heavier to use against the door because the rapid-fire thudding was certainly not matching the soft squeaks of his paws. “Wake up! He’s here!”
“Stay. Here.” Krampus said to me with a stern voice, urging me to be still and not get out of bed. Even if I’d wanted to follow him to the door, I felt my body stiffen with nervousness as I clutched the blankets around my body.
My monster then marched across the room to unlock the door and fling it open. Just past Krampus’s form in the doorway, I could see Mister Bear standing there with a miniature baseball bat in his hands as toys rushed down the spiraling balcony behind him. Whatever was going on, it was certainly causing a massive commotion.
“What the hell is going on?” Krampus asked. “Where’s the fucking fire?”
“He’s here,” Mister panted, loosening his grip on the bat and allowing it to tip to the floor. “Your brother. He’s here.”
“What!?” Krampus roared, his posture immediately tensing. The muscles in his back flexed, and I could see the hair on his arms and back stand on end, like a dog with its hackles up.
He turned back to me, and his face was unlike anything I'd ever seen from him before. His brows were cut inward, and his lips were raised, making him look more like a demon than I’d ever seen. The pair of yellow eyes were blazing with anger, and the slitted pupils within them were so thin I could barely see them.
“Stay. Here.” Krampus instructed again. “Hide if you need to, but do not, under any circumstances, come to help. Stay safe. Please. Lock the door.”
I nodded sheepishly, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet. It wasn’t the twenty-third. We were supposed to still have time. Why was Santa here?
“I love—” I said, but before I could even get the rest of the sentiment out, Krampus bolted out the bedroom door like a wild animal.
And then I was alone. I knew I had to get out of bed to lock the door, but it felt like I was frozen in time. Everything was beyond surreal. It was like my mind hadn’t quite had the chance to catch up with the reality of what was really going on. The direness of the situation hadn’t quite clicked into place. Finally, after several deep breaths with closed eyes, I stood up on the bed, still clutching the blankets around me like a heavy down toga, and stood on the ends of my toes to look outside.
“Oh, no,” I whispered to myself.
When Mister Bear had said that Santa was here, the naivety within me said that it was just Santa paying a visit, likely with some level of suspicion as to what exactly was going on with Krampus, but I quickly learned that was definitely not the case.
An entire army was outside. Santa was centered in the group sitting in his classic red sleigh, but rather than the eight reindeer pulling it, it was the largest, fiercest bear I’d ever seen. It was pure white, with jagged icy spikes surging out of its back and shoulders. It was like a polar bear fell into a barrel of radioactive waste and came back a mutant monster, built for death. To the left and right of the sleigh were more bears, but these appeared to be normal polar bears, which still wasn’t exactly comforting to think about. Mounted on each of the bears was what I had to assume was an elf dressed in leather and furs, each with a bow and arrow nocked and ready on their laps. In front were more elves on foot with icicle lances, white wolves and foxes all wearing silvery armor, and a vicious looking battering ram in the shape of a Christmas Tree.
“Come out, my dear brother!” I heard Santa call as he raised a red and white swirled megaphone to his face. “We have so much to discuss!”
If Krampus went out there, I had a sinking feeling he would never come back in, and I would never get the chance to say goodbye. All at once, I understood Krampus’s reluctance to reason with his brother. Nothing about this course of action felt like someone who was ready to sit down and have a conversation about the future. No. Santa Claus was nothing like I imagined he would be or that I hoped he would be.
I hovered in the window for a few moments, waiting on pins and needles to see if Krampus would appear in the snow outside. I wasn’t sure which I preferred—to see my horned beast face his brother head-on or to see if he could somehow manage to barricade the door and challenge Santa to come and get him. Perhaps the castle had some sort of defensive measures I was unaware of?
Either way, I wasn’t going to let Krampus face this threat alone.
I scrambled off the bed as fast as I could, making a quick beeline to the dresser to find anything appropriate. I thanked past-me for having the foresight to move some real clothes into Krampus’s bedroom rather than just pajama and lounge attire. I threw on my usual outdoor base layer under a pair of black fleece leggings and pulled two sweatshirts over a sports bra before flinging open the door and tearing down the stairs in socked feet.
“Whoa, whoa, hey there!” a familiar voice called to me as I sprinted down the balcony.