The Hunters' Krampus Night

 
This is sort of a roundabout story origin… so I’ve mentioned this story a few times. It’s the novel I’m working on that was once an rp that I fleshed out into a full novel idea/series. We’ve kind of settled on where that story goes and he’s passed it off to me for all the credit and creative edits. We kept going with alternate universes of the setting; scifi, modern, medieval knights and such. I don’t think I’ll be writing those into full novels, but I write some short stories in each of the worlds. This one kind of stands on its own as a prequel, but set in a monster-hunting modern setting, ala the World of Darkness except humans kick more ass. It’s just setting up an in-joke and tradition we have of a mother and daughter in a generational team of monster hunters explaining the story of the Krampus… and how she killed it.

"Okay, mom. I'm ready!" Bella came tromping down the stairs, the big girl taking after her father. The man had gone down on the job early on in Bella's life, but the girl seemed stubbornly happy. Trius turned to the teenager that was already as tall as she was and threw a punch at her. Nothing full force, but nothing to ignore either. The young blonde twitched (not as quickly as she'd like), but she blocked and pushed it aside like she'd shown her. A few more cat's paws sort of strikes and counters and Trius smirked at her improvement over the last few months of her training.

"You finished your homework?" she asked.

"Yup," Bella said as she flopped into the armchair.

"Cleaned the guns?"

"Mhmm."

"And gorgon's gaze does what to humans?"

"Turns them to stone on eye contact," Bella recided. "Doesn't affect animals or the blind."

"Nuckelavee?"

"Psychic fear in those with impure blood."

"And cyclops?"

Bella hesitated, but then snickered. "Nothing. They're just big eyes."

"Good enough," Trius smirked as she passed the Christmas tree and poked at the fireplace. She was in a sweatshirt and pajama pants, something that made a strange little pleasure in Bella's life. The woman was rarely without some piece of body armor or at least a combat knife. Even when Trius was in training, Christmas was a time when the Hunter family could relax if they chose to. The Valla community had a real "keep Christ in Christmas" thing going on even today, so monsters were always more reclusive with all the holy symbols and bright lights going on all night.

"Then tonight I let you in on one of the deepest family secrets," Trius went on. Bella tensed and squeezed the arm of the couch, making the fabric creak. She really was growing muscle like wildfire as the training became more intense. She had turned 14 that year, so she had played caddy to a few hunts already. "Do you know what the krampus is?"

Bella looked confused and didn't answer. Trius gave her a stern look as she stood back up. "Maybe you're not reading as much as you said?" she gently accused, though also hinting her in the right direction.

"Uh... that's the one satyr... the German one. Kidnapped children back in the 1800s?"

"Close," Trius replied icily. "That was one of the incidents, falsely reported in Johann Klaus' journals. He broke up a string of kidnappings and assaults, claiming to have killed the monster. He didn't." Trius left the room, reappearing a moment later. She threw something at Bella hard, but she snapped and caught it before it hit her face. She was faster than she looked too.

It was a marshmallow. She squeezed it in confusion before she smiled, Trius sliding her a cup of cocoa on the table. "The Krampus is an old Germanic figure, a bastardized devil from the Norse ages. A bogeyman and a demon that relished in chaos and fear. He stole children and beat them shitless in the winters. He was a sound-based hunter, so he always went after the ones that cried the loudest. Rarely killed, but kids still went missing for weeks at a time before he sent them back, bruised and scared speechless." Trius reached into her pocket and slid a German Krampus card across the coffee table as she sat on the sofa. It showed a black-furred devil man with a sack full of babies while the adults variously laughed or fled at the sight.

"So... he's real? The freaky German anti-Santa is real, and the German satyr reports were wrong because they're only really in Eastern US and Greece." Bella wadered.

"You're more right than you think. Based on what I've gathered, the krampus has been around since the BC's, and doing his thing every few years at random. Or maybe when he's hungry. Who knows? The point is, he does act just like the opposite of Santa. He kidnaps, he takes, he attacks, he only comes out in winter, and he's more than likely immortal."

"Wait, Santa's real?"

Trius slid another piece of paper over. This one was a photograph of a similar creature taken with snowflakes passing him by; a long-horned, shaggy thing with enormous teeth and tongue that hung from a limp jaw.

"The Sisterhood of Druids didn't start until the 70s, but the community that knew about The Veil was making private deals and bounties at certain drop points. The Hunters were a part of that circle in 1968 when American overseas spies had trickled back eyewitness reports of the creature during a streak of unsolved assaults. Children waking up with whip or claw marks in a small town in Germany. People started making connections, and I ended up spending the last of my honeymoon money on some custom shots and a private plane that would carry live arms overseas."

Something pitch black moved in the village of Berlau. Trees and cars were big enough to cover it and the gentle rattle of its chains. The village had been busy with a small outbreak of the flu, so they had to call off their Krampusnacht celebration. This was good for the creature. It was cunning, but it was bestial in many ways. No rattling chains. No howling. This territory was not marked or claimed. He could hunt again.

It hunched low for its 7 foot height, its spine seeming to do as it pleased as it needed. At one point a police car rolled by, so it stooped a foot or two tall and bent its limbs. Its thick and scruffy fur made it pass for a bush that was easily overlooked. It hissed and scampered off on all fours, pausing in an alley to scrape its horns across a brick wall and leave deep scratches in the stone. The gentle vibrations ran down its shoulders where the long rusty chains hung like a disgusting poncho past its hips. Despite its goatly appearance, it moved with a sinister grace as it sprang up onto a roof and scuttled off after its next catch. It stayed low as a hunting cat as it perched across the street.

The little girl in the window. The one who whined early in the day about having to eat oatmeal without her sugar. Something inside of it burned when it heard the sound. Ungrateful. Disgusting. Selfish. It had to be punished. It would learn. It dug its claws into a drain pipe before sliding down it, its mouth gaping open to let its tongue reach its stomach and big tusks of teeth protrude. Its flat, sharp nails reached under the window and slid it open when the girl stirred. Just enough to surprise her, but not enough time for her to scream before he got to her.

BLAM!

The monster flew off its feet and crashed through a number of trash cans. It scrambled back up with the mixed motions of a wet cat and a confused goat as its head whipped around. It used the silence. It targeted the small. Why was this happening?

Trius whispered the shortest prayer she knew in time with swiftly reloading the sniper rifle. She was loaded down with a thick white coat that blended in with the snowy roof and moved from prone to crouching. If it didn't know where she was, it would soon enough anyway. No reason to let it get away if the second shot didn't work. The first was loaded with silver, holy water, Norse runes and a little bit of extra explosives in the tip for good measure. She aimed as it looked around, perking up its donkey ears as she launched another for its heart when the head had failed. The mix of cross shavings, clover, witch hazel, wolfsbane, and Native American banishment charms smashed into its chest and sent it staggering again, but its eyes had locked onto her right as she pulled the trigger. It collapsed onto its stomach before it got back up, some flecks of blood in the snow as it took off running. It could be hurt, but nowhere near what she needed. The stories were probably right. It was more of a fae or a pagan god than a devil.

She whistled and slung her bag over her shoulder, quickly running to the side of the building. The cab driver she had waiting there stared at her before he simply drove off without her after such a scene. People were starting to raise their voices in their homes as it became clearly something besides some mountain thunder.

No choice. The thirty-something huntress took off at a near-olympic sprint, her long blonde hair streaking behind her as it fell from between her scarf and cap. Her eyes set and bright like purest sky and most of the curves of her body sacrificed for muscle and some scars. She had stricken fear into some monsters to find that a woman could look and move and fight like she did, and her talk of monsters got some chuckled comments about a valkyrie about her.

The little girl was already looking out the window after the fleeing shadow. She stared wide-eyed before hearing the footsteps and looking up just in time to see the charging Trius with her duffel bag of weapons. "Frohe Weihnachten," Trius called with a quick wave, wishing her a quick German merry Christmas without breaking stride.

The thing went for the woods. Good. If it wasn't feral before, it was thinking like an animal. As she focused her senses, she heard a metallic snap ahead of her. The krampus howled, but not in pain. She knew what monster pain sounded like. It was startled and had barely avoided being snared by the bear trap. Its pace still slowed, and the thing was meant for moving nimbly. Not for stamina, and not long distances like this. Like her oldest of ancestors that spent their days chasing mammoths, she would wear it out.

"[Incoming! Duck!]" Trius shouted in the native tongue before drawing her machine gun. No reason harming the locals, and even if he listened to her, that meant he was slowing down. She emptied the weapon in a horizontal path, another startled bellow telling her she had hit home. He only staggered, but that was all she needed. The Krampus was startled enough that it didn’t see the tripwire that triggered the explosives. It was thrown down to the snow about forty yards ahead, enough for her to catch up and it to stop running. She had pulled out two of the short stakes, one iron and one wood. It swiped at her with long, clawed fingers, but its bony knuckles were made for grabbing rather than slashing. 

Trius feinted a stab with one just to slash the other across its chest. The krampus let out an angry gurgle as it recoiled, but still no major wound. “Not that one,” she muttered, throwing the blood-stained stake into the snow. She pulled out the next as she ducked back from a strike from its hoof. “[I am not a child, you kidnapping fuck!]” she growled as she stabbed the next stake into its thigh. She wasn’t especially ferocious of a fighter, but it was tactical. Humans shouted in battle for a reason, and giving it something to think about besides her could help disorient the thing.  The second stake had scraped off like he was made of metal, leaving just a shallow cut. It was still wrong. She threw it away as well.

She struck again and again, leaving a half dozen stakes behind. It tried to flee when she pivoted and drew her sidearm, pelting it to slow it down and force it to run into the flashbang trap. It tumbled and flailed in desperation while Trius leapt over a claw and drove her next stake straight down into it. This one punched right through its ribs, making it emit this noise between a steaming kettle and a doused campfire. She had already pulled back when it pawed at her, slobbering mouth vomiting out thick black blood. Trius watched calmly as she noted the stake she’d used. The native white pine. Interesting.

“You horrible woman.” It spoke in a twisted and echoing voice from between its tusks and tongue. “You will pay for everything today.”

“Are you even bad at dying, you little scavenger?” She pulled out an extra of the pine stake to finish the job if it didn’t die on its own.

“I am punishment, American witch. I will not stop at death. You will pay with your kin. I will smite your daughter for your wickedness. On the eve of the saint’s day… your eldest.” It hacked up more blood. “I shall repay my pain.”

“Nobody hits my girl but me.” She thrust the second stake between its eyes as a plume of black smoke blew past its teeth and it vanished into ashes on the ground. She mentally checked her traps, but considering she didn’t see lights or hear dogs, she didn’t think she needed to hurry. She still disabled the extra traps quickly and moved out.

“So… what’s that mean?” Bella asked as she sipped at her cocoa. She loved her mom’s war stories, and this one sounded pretty extreme.

“Every Christmas Eve, the fucker comes back to life near my house and tries to kidnap and beat my oldest child.” Trius stood up and paced slowly through the living room. “He’s not as strong as he was then, and he wasn’t enough to beat me back then. The pine hurts most all… probably something to do with Christmas. But it’s become sort of my tradition.” She went to the fireplace and took the shotgun mounted over it. Always with some silver-lined shells by the barrel for emergencies. She fetched some of the buckshot and a spool of wire, kneeling down by the fire and gesturing her over.

“Every night when you went to bed to wait for Santa, I set some traps, make some cocoa, get a good book, let the mother fucker kill himself for trying to come at me in my own home, and then I bring down your presents. It used to be the works, but the gun and tripwire have worked for three years straight. So either he doesn’t remember what happens each year, or he still doesn’t know what a gun is.” Trius held the spool out to Bella, who took it and walked it around the edge of the fireplace. Trius looped her end around a hook and then started to rig the gun so that it faced the fireplace and wouldn’t do as much damage. “You’re a big girl now, though. You can fend for yourself, and you know more truths than most adults will ever know.” She raised her mug and smiled lightly. “Would you like to see him?”

“Can I have more cocoa?” Bella asked, her eyes already lit up.

“One more cup,” Trius smirked. “Too much and it’ll give you the shits.”

It was a pretty practical Christmas. It was just Bella and her mother now, so there was some clothes and sweets, but also a freshly made hunting knife with a blessed silver-laced edge and a new cold iron crucifix. Bella was a little tired, but pleased with the night just reading quietly with her mom. Even when she told her “Christmas stories” from old mission logs. 

“Check the back,” Trius advised as she sipped her coffee. Bella looked at her with a puzzled expression, but laid on her belly to look under the tree. There was a small and simply wrapped present with “From Santa” written on the label. She blinked at it before fishing it out and unwrapping it. It was a wooden horse with poseable legs that moved when you pumped the tail, but it still looked handmade given the little scrapes and fine lines in the material.

“Santa’s not good with the modern toys,” Trius said matter of factly. “He always gives you the little stuff like that.”

Bella rolled it around in her hands ponderously. “Mom, really? Like… REALLY really?”

“I’m one of the oldest hunters left alive in the world,” she said dryly. “I’ve taught you almost everything I know.” She smirked and sipped again. “Let me keep one damned secret.”