Page 23 of Scary & Bright

“A meeting, I’d guess,” she answered as if it were no big deal. She clearly wasn’t understanding the level of panic I was experiencing, but how could she? She already knew everything there was to know about this place, and she didn’t have a reason to fear them. “Krampus calls them sometimes. They’re informal things, mostly held when he needs advice or help with something.”

“Advice?” I asked, growing even more confused by the moment. “What could he possibly need advice about?”

“You’d be surprised!” she explained. “You see, Krampus has been in this castle by himself for so long he often forgets how the rest of the world functions, so he turns to us when he’s got questions.”

“Does he force you?” My question was posed with concern, still not entirely on board with the idea that Krampus was really a good guy at heart, one who had developed happy and healthy relationships with all the toys in the castle. How could he be the kind of man who happily provided a home for them all with grace and dignity when he was so… awful?

“Oh, no, no, no.” Starlight shook her head. “Never once. Actually, he doesn’t really force any of us to do anything at all. But we like to help each other out. You know… Teamwork makes the dream work!”

“Got it,” I said, moving my arms up to cradle myself. As wonderful as this all sounded, I knew it wasn’t for me. I wasn’t a well-loved toy. I was a sacrifice.

I made my way to the fridge and pulled the door open. Just like everything else in the castle, it was somehow magically stocked with all sorts of food. There were fresh fruit and vegetables, cut and organized into clear containers, every sort of drink I could want, cold snacks, and yogurt. I had to admit, it was beyond impressive.

The first thing I did was pull out a pitcher of water and set it on the counter as I hunted down a glass. The moment I found one, I poured myself a glass, nearly to the very brim, and drank it down all at once. The cool water felt like heaven on my lips, and I immediately poured myself another.

“Wow,” Starlight mused, watching me with wide painted eyes as I quenched my thirst. “You were thirsty.”

“Yeah.” I caught my breath and returned to the fridge. The sight of a container of plump, red strawberries made my stomach growl. I pulled out the entire container hungrily, as well as a small tub of sliced cheese, then laid them both out on the counter.

“Strawberries and cheese?” the rocking horse asked, her voice teetering on the edge of disgust.

“Don’t judge me,” I said, my mouth already full of sharp cheddar as I leaned against the countertop. “I can’t be held responsible for my food selections. There was too much to pick from.”

“I totally get it,” Starlight said as she reared backward on her rockers. “Or at least I would if I ate people food.”

It felt awkward having the rocking horse hovering behind me as I ate. I wasn’t sure what she was expecting or hoping for—maybe some sort of best friends forever cooking montage? But I was starving and continued to help myself to whatever I could find, knowing that my plan had me facing the brutal cold until I—hopefully—found a village to call for help and rest in.

I ate the strawberries and the sliced cheese. I also ate a turkey sandwich with mayo, lettuce, and tomato and sweet potato chips I found in the pantry. I also treated myself to a chocolate bar and a glass of orange juice, which ended up being a really disgusting combination, but I was too hungry to care. Starlight continued to try to make small talk between me stuffing my face, and I was beginning to feel a twinge of guilt for what I knew was coming.

“You know what might be fun?” Starlight asked as I started the process of picking up the mess I had made.

“What’s that?” I responded, curious what the horse was getting at and selfishly hoping that whatever it was might include her being anywhere else but right next to me for a few minutes.

“Playing a game!” she announced, the excitement plastered across her face. “I could get some of the other toys, and we could all sit under the tree and play a game together. How fun would that be!?”

Now the twinge of guilt I was feeling was expanding to full-blown guilt.

“That actually could be fun,” I agreed, already picturing in my head the storybook image of me and a group of talking toys playing together under a beautiful, oversized Christmas tree. “Why don’t you see if anyone is keen while I finish up here?”

Ugh. I wished there was a way I could explain to Starlight how desperately I needed to get the hell out of there. It was like every toy I met didn’t find there to be something so deeply unorthodox and devastating in the prospect of me having to get to know the monster I’d seen in the basement. I had no interest in keeping my mind open, and I had no interest in seeing any of this through—not if I had the option to save myself.

“Yeah!” Starlight grinned. She began to rock herself excitedly toward the stairs. “Oh, we haven’t done anything like this in so long. It’s going to be so fun!” She squealed on her way out, almost a whinny, already lost in her own thoughts. She was even rambling to herself as she teetered out of sight, on her way to recruit toys to her cause.

I paused in my cleaning, keeping my ears perked to note the exact second she rambled out of earshot. Once I was confident that she was far enough away, I began to sack the kitchen like I was a burglar trying to make the best of an opening. Flinging cabinet doors open, I jammed as much food into my pockets as I could. Crackers. Beef jerky. Cheese sticks. Apples. I shoved a bottle of water into the back pocket of my jeans, hoping the cloak would have a more reasonable pocket for it.

I had no idea how much time I had before Starlight returned, and my heart was threatening to pound out of my chest. I grabbed one more thing—a steak knife—and tucked it into my sleeve before bolting for the door on the landing. Sirens were wailing in my head as I fumbled to grab the oversized cloak off the rack. It was lined with fur and heavier than I imagined, which I hoped wouldn’t slow me down but certainly helped with exposure. My heart was racing, and a lump was growing in my throat, feeling like the oppressive weight of my certain death was looming in my peripherals. With the cloak thrown over me, and my body wrapped up like a burrito, I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

A sting of bitter cold nipped at the exposed skin on my face, and I noted that, despite my efforts, I was still probably lacking several, several more layers to guarantee my warmth. However, I didn’t have time to think twice. I didn’t exactly have time to search the castle for appropriate “running away clothes,” nor could I just up and ask someone for Arctic weather gear unsuspiciously. This was my chance, the wide-open opportunity to win my life and leave this horror behind me.

The door appeared to lead out to a covered walkway toward a barn of some kind, the wide openness of the South Pole closing in around me in every other direction. The sunlight reflecting off the icy snow was bright enough to burn my eyes, and before I could psyche myself out, I stepped out of the castle toward what I hoped would be my freedom.

11

KRAMPUS

“At this point, I honestly couldn’t care less what you do, I’d just like you to pick something!” Mister Bear hollered over me as I continued my huffing and pacing. “You’re back and forth! When you finally seem to pick a direction, you convince yourself the other way is better.”

“He’s right, you know!” another toy shouted, a tiny space-man action figure, complete with a laser sword accessory. “We’ve been up here for hours, it feels like, and all any of us have really done is watch you argue back and forth with yourself.”

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