Page 29 of Scary & Bright

“Nikolaus?” I asked carefully, as it was abundantly obvious the name was a sore subject. “As in… Saint Nick? As in… Santa Claus?” It felt obvious and out of left field all at once, and I couldn’t help but let out a stifled laugh.

“Surprise,” Krampus groaned, visibly annoyed by even the mention of his name. “Everyone’s favorite Christmas icon is my brother. Twin brother, actually.”

“Wow.” I sighed, leaning back into my own chair and pulling the blanket up over my shoulders. “Talk about getting the short end of the stick.”

“Precisely.” The creature across from me sighed, his eyes pausing closed for a moment. “On my brother’s and my twenty-fifth birthday, everything changed. We woke up in our beds, but it was like we’d never existed. We watched our parents go about their day with no mention of us. We were erased from family photos. Nobody could hear us or see us, and as the sun set that night, we were visited by the Christmas Spirit.” Krampus inhaled deeply and flourished his wrist. “Who, by the way, you’ve met briefly, if I’m understanding Nik’s system correctly. The Christmas Spirit, turns out, is a total dick.”

The more Krampus explained, the clearer things became.

“The Christmas Spirit?” I asked. “You mean the awful woman who came into my work acting like a nightmare? Oh, and who then changed into this horrifying ghostly man and teleported me to your basement?”

“The very one.” Krampus laughed out loud. “He’s a menace and a shapeshifter. Definitely one of those ‘claims to be entirely innocent but is actually a secret asshole’ types.”

“I gathered.” I giggled along with him.

“Anyway,” Krampus continued, catching his breath, “the Spirit essentially told us that we have something super important to do, and he’s already made the proper arrangements for us to leave our lives behind. He made it seem uber drastic, and Nik and I are horrified, right? So, we go with him, hoping to get some answers.”

“And that’s how you guys got the jobs?” I asked, feeling like I knew where the story was going.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Krampus said as he squinted one eye. “Apparently, when the previous Santa Claus died, the original Santa Claus, it set off this otherworldly series of events to continue his tradition.”

My confusion must have been apparent because Krampus immediately continued his story after the briefest of pauses.

“The first Santa. Or Saint Nick, Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, whatever you wanna call him,” Krampus went on. “While he was technically the first to don the red suit, he was just a toy-maker, albeit a genuinely good guy. Brought lots of joy to lots of kids. I mean, we’re talking a crazy good guy. A kindness that was all but unknown until he put it into the world. So, when he died, someone had to fill the gap… Unfortunately, that’s when we were pulled into the whole thing.”

My heart began to sink. I could tell this part of his story was beginning to get heavy for the creature. The lingering smile was gone from his mouth, and his expression turned flat, like he was intentionally shutting off his emotions. Krampus took several deep breaths and chewed on the inside of his cheeks. Rather than say anything to move him along, I stayed silent and observed him.

“The Spirit told us that there was magic in the Poles.” Krampus cleared his throat as he spoke. “But to tap into it, to access it, we had to maintain a perfect balance. Happiness and sorrow, grief and joy, black and white. There can’t be one without the other. The Spirit explained it like, ‘without sadness, nobody would be able to know happiness.’ And there being two of us, what better way to keep a balance than have each of us reside over one half of the coin.”

His voice began to quake, and I could swear I saw a shimmer of a tear forming in the corner of his eyes. Krampus stealthily looked up toward the ceiling, trying to keep his composure, and his knee went back to bouncing.

“So, Nik got one side, and I got the other.” He sighed as he slowly looked back down at me. “Nik gets all the glory, and I got the shit-end of the stick. He got to become a symbol of joy, find a wife, settle down, and I…” Krampus looked down at himself with disgust. “I became this monster.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, unsure what else to say. There had to be more to the story—he hadn’t even detailed what exactly his job was, but I could see the bleakness of his face and felt like an apology fit well in the awkward pause.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Krampus said, moving his elbows back to his knees. “But, to get back to my long-winded explanation… I know you know Santa’s story. The flying reindeer, the Christmas Eve present run, the magic workshop, the toy making… All of that runs on the Poles’ magic. If the balance the Spirit mentioned isn’t kept up perfectly, all of it goes to hell immediately. Nik, or Santa, needs me to do the task I’ve been assigned.”

I gulped hard, sensing we were getting to the part where I, and many before me, came into play.

“What task is that?” I asked as Krampus paused again, turning his face to the ground in shame. As much as I didn’t want to hear it, I had to hear it. I had to hear him say it.

“I’m meant to take care of the Naughty List,” he said finally in a voice that was practically a whisper. “I have to do away with one name off the List every year… I don’t get to pick. They’re brought to me, and if I don’t follow through with my end of the deal by the day before Christmas Eve, well…” The creature held up the iron collar around his neck. I’d been curious about the object but had assumed up to this point it was some dark accessory he’d chosen for himself.

“Well, what?” I asked.

“Well, then, Christmas is ruined, and it’s entirely my fault. Nik would never let me live it down and would definitely find a way to make my life worse than it already is.” Krampus scoffed, now hanging onto the collar with both hands. Perhaps fidgeting with the collar was a nervous habit, but I couldn’t shake the feeling he was leaving something out.

“He used to tease me a bit, my brother did,” the beast continued, letting go of the collar, allowing it to drop heavily around his neck. “He would always say things like, ‘You’ve got it so easy. I have to deal with every child on the planet while you only have to deal with one person every year.’”

“That is just awful,” I said, my voice shaking with disbelief. “I’m sorry to say it, but Santa Claus seems like an asshole.”

For a while, we just sat there looking at each other. I definitely needed the time to process what I’d just been told, and it looked like Krampus was processing in his own way. I couldn’t imagine how vulnerable he was likely feeling or how ashamed he might have felt. And while I still had reason to feel afraid, especially after learning that I really was doomed to die, I couldn’t help but feel remarkable sadness and empathy for the great creature across from me. He’d been tasked with such a heavy burden, while never truly wanting it. To imagine an eternity of such a bleak existence tore at my heartstrings, and I felt my image reflected back to me. Was this how others saw me? Not in such a grandeur fashion, but the principle was still the same. Just a personification of grief and despair trapped in a situation they didn’t consent to.

“If you’re up for it,” Krampus said, breaking the silence and the tension, “I’d like to show you something.”

“What’s that?” I asked, raising my head off the back of my chair. I hadn’t realized how deeply I’d slumped since I sat down.

Krampus stood from his seat and stretched to each side.

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