Page 8 of Scary & Bright
I turned my gaze to my cell. Old, rust-colored stains were evident on the back wall, as well as near the floor in some places. My heart pounded in my chest as I forced myself to accept the sight for what it was. Not rust, but blood. Old blood.
The sound of a door creaking open redirected my gaze toward the noise.
“Eesh!” Starlight yelped, just as surprised by the sound as I was. “Just remember! Don’t freak out. Don’t scream. Just be cool!” Her final hushed warning came out hurriedly just before she rocked backward away from the bars as if she hadn’t been speaking to me at all.
I held my breath as the sound of heavy footsteps began to descend into the basement. The stairs were hidden behind a wall of shelves, so it wasn’t until the creature stepped off the final step that I could get a look at it.
What I saw was nothing like I could have ever imagined. It… He… was a great beast, standing on two thick, black goat legs, which ended in cloven hooves larger than my hands. A forked tail flicked the floor behind him as he stood at the far end of the basement. The creature’s upper half was… I couldn’t say human, at least not entirely, but definitely humanoid in figure. His skin was pale as snow, and the same thick black hair that covered his animalistic bottom half ran down the tops of his forearms and crept up his lower abdominals. Black hair hung long over his face, and piercing yellow eyes, with pupils slit upward like a serpent, bore into me. A sharp, angular nose was centered on his face above pale, pursed lips. Two gnarled horns emerged from the creature’s forehead, curling backward with bony twists, nearly touching the ceiling.
Was this a demon? It felt like a demon. An icy surge ran through me in his presence, and I froze in fear. Starlight had told me this beast was the anti-Santa, but there was no way she could have warned me about the deep sadness and despair that seemed to radiate off the creature. If my fate was left up to him, I prayed he would make my death as painless as possible.
4
KRAMPUS
Nothing could have prepared me for the first time I saw her. I could hear Starlight’s attempt at a hushed warning to her as I made my way to the basement, leaving Mister Bear behind on the upper floor. The horse had always been a talkative one, and it must have given her some semblance of purpose to be in the basement during this time of year, to usher the guests from the Naughty List to their fate with kindness and empathy—the last they usually experienced before I had my turn with them.
But this time, as I corrected my posture to be as large and horrifying as I knew I could be, the human I faced on the other side of the iron bars caught me by pure and unexpected surprise. She looked so small in her funny little Christmas sweater with dirt smudged on the side of her face. Her bright green eyes stared back at me with such fear that it made my heart ache. It was like time stood still, and all I could do was look at her. I knew I was supposed to put on an act, knew I was supposed to be horrifying, and I was apparently doing a good enough job just by standing there.
There had been many times I wished I didn’t look like this. Countless times over the unfathomable years I spent alone in the castle, I would look into the mirror and wonder what my life would be like if I didn’t look the way I did, if my teeth didn’t come down in vicious points, or if I wasn’t partially covered in coarse, black fur. But never before did I feel such immediate guilt and shame for looking like the monster I was.
She was so scared. I could see it on her face and read it in her body language as she sat crumpled on the ground like a discarded ball of wrapping paper. More than anything, I wanted to be able to save her from this basement. I wanted to save her from me. I couldn’t understand a world where she had even ended up on the Naughty List with her doe eyes and dandelion blond hair.
Time stood still as we took in the sight of each other with exactly polar opposite intentions. She was seeing me as a beast, a demon, a monster, while I admired every flyaway hair on her head and every detail of her image down to the chipped red nail polish on the ends of her fingers. If the Christmas Spirit were there, I would wring his ghostlike neck. Even though that was physically impossible, I would find a way. Never once had he brought me a guest that was just… beautiful, like the way a warm fire on a cold day is beautiful. Or the smell of an old book is beautiful. Or the first ray of sunlight after a long darkness is beautiful. I felt small in her presence, and the world melted around me.
So much so that I could barely hear the echoing voice of Starlight trying to get my attention.
“Sir?” she asked, noticing my inability to move or speak. “Sir!?” She paused before hollering again, “Sir!”
“Yes, apologies,” I said, trying to ground myself in reality. I averted my eyes from the girl and tried to focus on something else. Anything else. For the first time in my memory, I noticed how drab and disgusting the basement truly was. Dust everywhere. Dirt. Actual blood on the walls.
Oh, gods, I thought. I really am a monster.
“This is Hollis Nash,” Starlight continued, doing her best to play a helpful hostess, “but she says she prefers just Holly.”
She did this every time, and I never knew the proper way to skip over the awkward introductions. Frankly, knowing the guests’ names only made the whole process that much harder.
“Holly,” I mused under my breath.
Her name was like cinnamon on my tongue. For a moment, I was unsure what my next move would be. In the past, I kept things quick. To move abruptly with my task was to avoid feelings of guilt or the risk of thinking too hard. At the end of the day, what had to be done was going to have to be done, regardless of my personal protests.
But immediately, I knew I couldn’t do my due diligence. There wasn’t a single atom within me that felt I should move forward with the task at hand. At least not now. Not when she was sitting in the dirt like an angel pulled from the sky. The words that fell from my mouth felt like a downpour after an afternoon of swollen clouds and thunder. They were inevitable and a relief but brought with them an unknown consequence that I knew would come to find me later.
“Move her to a proper room,” I said with a stern certainty that surprised even myself. “It is cold down here.”
Starlight did a double take, unsure what to make of my instructions. I didn’t want to stay in Holly’s presence a moment longer, knowing that the sight of me was causing her fear, so I turned and ducked back toward the stairs.
“Um, certainly?” the horse responded, her voice lifting at the end in obvious confusion. “Do you have a room in mind?” She called after me, raising her voice enough so I could hear her upon my ascension.
“Whichever she would like the best,” I called back. “Let her have her choice.”
I was glad not to witness the look of shock and awe on the horse’s face. Without a doubt, she would have questions. All the toys would have questions—Mister, especially. There was no way I would be able to answer any of them with any certainty, but in the act of leaving that basement without adding her blood to the wall behind her, I felt peace. The moment I reached the top of the stairs and closed the door behind me, I let out a breath of relief. The time that had been standing still since the moment I laid eyes on the human girl now moved twice as fast to keep up with me. My surroundings felt like they were spinning, and my heart was fluttering like a flock of songbirds. I swiftly retreated to my study before any more toys could confront me.
I couldn’t comfort her the way I wanted to. I couldn’t touch her face and hold her close. There was no way I could ease her fears and show her my heart, but I could give her a room, and I could give myself the selfish gift of keeping her alive and in the castle with me…
At least for a while longer.
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