The Spirit of Krampus--Illustrated Page 3

  If only he were the wind...

  He felt a tingling in his toes. It felt like someone was tickling him, and working their way up from his feet to the top of his head. He couldn’t help but giggle. A cold breeze swept around him and gave him a hug. And then suddenly, he was the wind. He blew himself over to the air ducts and danced inside. He flowed through the walls and then fell out into a room filled with wriggling bags, bags heavy with children.

  Skip patted his body. He was solid once again. He ran over to the first bag and undid the knot.

  A little girl's freckled face peeked out at him as he pulled back the flaps.

  "Santa?" she asked.

  "I'm not Santa. I'm looking for my brother Bo," he said and moved to the next bag.

  "Wait!" she called, wriggling and trying to free herself. "Help me!"

  In one of the bags was his brother. He knew it. And he needed to get to his brother before the midnight

  bells tolled.

  "Help me Santa!" she cried.

  The other sacks stopped moving as the children inside listened. Skip could hear them whispering through the canvas to one another, "Santa is here?"

  They started calling softly, "Help me, Santa! Help!"

  "I'm not Santa!" he protested.

  Skip stood in the middle of the room, their pleas like murmuring waves lapping at his ankles.

  Bo always looked out for him, Skip thought. Bo would have known what to do.

  But Bo wasn't there to tell him. He had to look into his own heart.

  And in that moment, Skip knew.

  Whether he found his brother or not, it was his turn to be someone else's Bo.

  He ran back to the bag. The little girl's hands and feet had been bound.

  "What's your name?" Skip asked as he worked on the knots.

  "Molly."

  The ropes finally loosened. "You're free, Molly.

  Are you okay?"

  She nodded and stood up. She didn't run away. Instead, she turned to Skip and said, "I'll help you, Santa."

  "I'm not Santa," he grumbled as he went to the next bag.

  She beamed and nodded before she went to untie the rest of the room.

  One bag after the next they looked and looked, quietly calling, "Bo?"

  Each child they freed joined the search.

  Molly came running to Skip from another room.

  “I found him! I found a boy who says his name is Bo!"

  Skip raced after her. Bo sat in a far room filled with scared kids and their now empty bags. His face was purple and puffy, and his eyes were swollen shut.

  Skip knelt down before him and threw himself into his big brother's arms. They held each other quietly for a few moments, scared to move or let go.

  "You gotta get out of here," Bo finally said, pushing Skip away. "He'll be back. You gotta get someplace safe."

  The grownups outside had set off fireworks as the clock tower struck midnight.

  "I am someplace safe," Skip replied.

  Bo's swollen face smiled. He gently messed up

  Skip's hair.

  "Guess what, Bo?" asked Skip. “You are on the nice list."

  Skip reached into Santa's great big velvet sack. He withdrew a single present wrapped in shiny red paper with a giant gold bow. “Merry Christmas.”

  Bo slowly took the present and unwrapped it.

  He became very quiet as he looked at his Christmas gift from Skip. “Markers.”

  “I told you Santa would bring you some. Now we can draw all day.”

  "I remember." He gave his brother a hug.

  “Take that present back!” commanded a voice that rang with menace. "Your brother has been a very, very naughty boy.”

  Skip turned and looked over his shoulder. Standing there in the doorway was Krampus, his teeth barred and his hands upon his sack.

  “I have the list, Krampus,” said Skip, pulling out the piece of paper from his pocket and holding it up.

  Krampus smiled. “Then you’ll see what I say is true. All children are wicked. They will destroy you! They are hateful and ruin lives and no one wants them.”

  “That is a lie, Krampus!” Skip said.

  “Lies all depend upon who is doing the telling.”

  Krampus threw down his sack and opened up

  the mouth.

  “Don’t move one more step, Krampus!” warned Skip.

  “Or else what?”

  “I said that I have the list!” said Skip, holding the paper even higher.

  “And what of it?” asked Krampus. He pointed at the black bag on the ground and shouted, "You have disobeyed me! GET IN MY SACK YOU NAUGHTY BOY!"

  The vortex emerged and it reached for Skip. It swirled around his legs and grabbed at his middle, but it couldn't pull him in. Instead, Skip seemed larger and stronger and much older than just eight. Power radiated from Skip's hand and his list began to glow with white heat.

  Krampus shrank back with fear. Unbelieving, he whispered in a little voice, "Santa?"

  Skip yelled, “I say who is naughty and nice! I have made the list! I have checked it twice! And do you recall who is the naughtiest creature of all?”

  He held the list high with two hands, showing Krampus's name at top for all to see...

  “You have been very, very naughty!” Skip shouted. He pointed at Krampus's velvet bag and yelled, "GET IN YOUR OWN SACK YOU NAUGHTY THING!"

  Krampus began howling and clawing at the air. His hoofed feet slid upon the ground as if the floor was slicked with butter. He screamed as the wind picked him up and squeezed him, narrowing his body like meat through a grinder. It sucked him into the bag piece by piece until there was nothing left but silence.

  And when he disappeared, the strangest thing began to happen. The noises outside changed. The revelry stopped and people were crying and calling out names.

  "I'm here, Mom!" called one of the girls. The children all got up and ran towards the sound of their parents. Soon, the entire building was empty.

  All except for that one little girl Skip had first freed. Molly stood there awkwardly alone, staring at the boys.

  "What, kid?" asked Bo, roughly. "Don't you have some parents to go to or something?"

  She shook her head. “No."

  "It's okay, Bo. She helped," Skip walked over to her. “If I had a pen, I would put you on the 'nice' list, too."

  She replied shyly, "Thanks."

  "If you're on the nice list, that means I have to give you a present. What do you want for Christmas?" Skip asked.

  Molly gulped. “I want to come with you and help make the toys..."

  Her voice trailed off. Skip looked over at Bo and Bo shrugged. Skip replied carefully, "If that's your Christmas wish..."

  She nodded.

  Skip pointed above them. “The reindeer is on the roof."

  The grin that spread across her face was slow, but it lit up the room before she raced off.

  "Thank you, Santa!"

  "I'm not..." but Skip couldn't finish the sentence.

  Skip and Bo stood for a little while, the air around them echoing with laughter and tears and happy reunions.

  "I'm scared, Bo," said Skip. He looked down at his suit and the paper he still clutched in his hands. “I think I have to be Santa Claus."

  Bo didn't say anything for awhile. Then he shrugged and smiled. “You're good at it."

  "What if someone like Krampus shows up again?"

  Bo picked up Krampus's bag. “Well, I'll put them in this old sack and beat them with these sticks."

  "I mean it."

  "So do I." Bo looked at Skip and promised with every fiber of his being. "I'll come with you everywhere. I'll never let you out of my sight again. The worst was knowing I couldn't stop you from getting hurt. I'll always stay two steps behind, and no one will ever mess with you. I swear."

  Skip leaned against Bo and gave him a hug. “I thought I'd never see you."

  "Now you'll never get rid of me." Bo put Skip into a headlock and
walked him to the door. “Come on, Skip. Let's catch that flying reindeer."

  Skip laughed. He looked back at all the empty sacks littering the ground.

  "How do you think someone like Krampus got to be so mean?" asked Skip.

  With one hand filled with Krampus's bag and switch, Bo put his arm around his little brother. "I have no idea."

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  USA Today Bestselling author Kate Danley's debut novel The Woodcutter (47North) was honored with the Garcia Award for the Best Fiction Book of the Year, the 1st Place Fantasy Book in the Reader Views Literary Awards, and was the 1st place winner of the Sci-Fi/Fantasy category in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards. Her book Queen Mab was honored with the McDougall Previews Award for Best Fantasy Book. Her Maggie MacKay: Magical Tracker series has been optioned for film and television.

  Her plays have been produced in New York, Los Angeles, and DC Metro area. She has over 300+ film, television, and theatre credits to her name, specializing in sketch, improv, and Shakespeare. She trained in on-camera puppetry with Mr. Snuffleupagus and played the head of a 20-foot dinosaur on an NBC pilot.

  She lost on Hollywood Squares.

  http://www.katedanley.com

  ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR

  Abigail Larson had ambitions of becoming an opera singer and joining the circus while growing up, and although neither of those ended up working out too well, she still enjoys both.

  Abigail's work has been featured in many galleries across the United States and Europe, such as the Museum of American Illustrators in New York, The Poe Museum of Richmond, and Gallery Nucleus in California, and she has participated in many group gallery shows including Halloween Town's annual "Tribute to the Haunted Mansion" and Creature Features' "October Shadows" shows - not to mention prestigious venues in London, Paris, and Madrid.

  Her work has been featured in various publications including Spectrum Fantastic Art, Art Fundamentals, and Digital Artist as well as several independent publishing houses. Her first fully illustrated children's book, Sarah Faire and the House at the End of the World written by Alex Giannini was released in 2013.

  http://www.abigaillarson.com/

  Copyright © 2012, 2013, 2014 Kate Danley

  © 2014 First Illustrated Edition - Illustrations by Abigail Larson

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. People, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Except Santa. Santa is real and just so you know, kids, he is doing just fine.

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