Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
For one moment, I am free-falling.
Then I hit the ground. Snow cushions my fall, and the way I tumble takes some of the bruising impact, so it doesn’t hurt as much as I expect.
But I keep falling, rolling and sliding, my vision a dizzying spin of gray sky and white ground.
Frozen branches whip me. The air rushes out of my lungs.
I’m moving too fast to stop myself, so I duck my head, cover my face, and hope.
I roll—faster, faster, terrifyingly fast, out of control. More frightening than the fall is what will wait for me at the end. The sharp drop of a cliff? Frozen trees impaling me? Or a swift end in a pile of rocks?
The fall seems to go on forever. But gradually, I realize, I am losing speed instead of gaining it. I slow… slow… and stop, face down in a snowdrift.
For a moment I lie there, frozen and battered.
I suck in one painful, shallow breath, and then another.
My body is too numb to tell if I’m hurt.
But as I gingerly push off the ground and lift myself onto my knees, I look down at myself and don’t see any blood.
I flex my fingers, touch my ribs, feel my face. Nothing is obviously broken.
The slope wasn’t as bad as it appeared. More of a hillside than a cliff. But as I glance over my shoulder, I realize that wasn’t what I should’ve feared.
Krampus is heading down the hill. Leaping, really, powerful legs and sure-footed hooves finding rocks and outcroppings that my flailing body missed on the way down. He is coming toward me, and he is coming fast.
My head whips the other way as I lurch to my feet.
The edge of the forest is nearby, thick clusters of snow-dusted conifers offering shelter and a potential place to hide.
I step forward—and instantly my boot sinks.
I grit my teeth and push forward. I am already aching and cold and tired, but I refuse to sit and wait for death to come for me.
I refuse to die here. I refuse to let Louis and his family get away with whatever fucked-up game they’re playing here.
The snow isn’t as deep once I reach the cover of the trees, but the undergrowth hinders me even more.
I stumble, branches whipping at my face and roots tangling up my feet, like they’re intentionally slowing me down.
Trying to catch me, trap me, truss me up as a nice meal for that fucking thing that’s following me.
I hear the crash as the monster reaches the edge of the forest, branches snapping as it plows straight through.
I run faster. As fast as I can, cold air burning my lungs as I gulp it down.
Then my boot catches on the edge of a rock. I swear as I stumble, and face-plant in the snow. I scramble to push myself up and dare a glance over my shoulder.
Krampus is just a few yards away. How is he so fast?
I have no breath to scream, so I just let out a tiny gasp of terror before starting to run again. But I’m slowing down—lungs aching, legs trembling, head spinning. Adrenaline keeps me on my feet, but I’m waning.
When another root snags my ankle, I fall again. Harder this time, landing on my hands and knees. I try to push myself up, only to fall again. My body is giving out.
No.
I grab on to the nearest tree and drag myself up, panting for air as black spots dance in my vision. I stumble forward again, grabbing branches for support.
It’s quiet, this deep in the forest. The trees keep the wind at bay. The silence would be peaceful, except that it only emphasizes the steady clomp of hooves following me. The heavy drag of metal chains through the snow.
I whimper, vision blurring with tears. I don’t even know where I’m running. I’m moving away from the safety of the cabin rather than toward it. But what safety could I really find there, anyway? My car is missing; the front door is locked.
Louis left me.
He brought me here. He knew this would happen.
Rage breaks through the paralyzing grip of my terror.
If I die here today, nobody will ever know. Louis and his family will never pay. I will be another crossed-out name in that goddamn book. I refuse to let that happen.
I can’t run anymore, so there’s only one option left. As impossible as it seems, I have to fight.
My weary feet stumble to a stop, and I grab the closest tree branch off the ground. It’s heavy, but adrenaline lends new strength to my limbs as I lift it. I whirl toward the hulking creature behind me—so close to catching me, just a few feet away now—and heft it like a weapon.
I look up at the creature, more than two feet taller than me and thick as a tree trunk, and meet his burning red gaze.
And I open my mouth and scream. It’s not a sound of terror but a war cry ripped from my throat.
The sound echoes through the quiet forest and sends birds scattering in a flapping panic.
As the sound dies down into quiet echoes, I heave for breath and stare up at the monster in front of me, finally getting a good look at him.
He is easily eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and a thick, muscular torso.
His upper body is humanoid, his face disturbingly human despite the thick horns curving out of his head and his tapered goat’s ears.
From the waist down, he is more animal than man, covered in thick black fur and clothed only in a ragged loincloth.
Instead of feet, he has a pair of black cleft hooves that move through several inches of snow as though it’s nothing.
Behind him, a long black tail whips, the tuft of fur at the end dragging through the snow behind him.
His eyes are the color of fire, of blood. His pupils are horizontal like a goat’s, but watch me with an eerie intelligence.
I’m not sure whether to think of this monster as an animal or a man.
But either way, the sight of him strikes terror deep in my gut.
His intent is all too clear from what he carries.
My eyes dart from the length of heavy metal chain wrapped around one of his massive fists to the birch rod held in the other.
He looks at the stick clutched in my trembling hands and he comes to a stop several feet away from me.
Then my gaze finds his mouth as his lips peel back to reveal sharp teeth. A long, forked, red tongue slides out to glide over his canines as his eerie red eyes find mine again.
“Your punishment will be worse if you fight it.”
I nearly drop my stick as he speaks. His voice is almost impossibly deep and gravelly, edged with a snarl that no human could manage, but so close to human despite it. He speaks with clear intelligence I did not expect.
He is neither man nor animal, but something else. Something worse.
A monster.
“What punishment?” I ask.
“The one you deserve. Nothing more and nothing less.”
I swallow hard as fear slithers down my spine. “Who are you to decide what I deserve?”
He huffs, twin plumes forming in the cold air in front of his face. “You know who I am.” He takes a step forward. I try to move back, but my knees have locked, a paralyzing fear seeping through me. “You signed my book in blood. You knew the rules.”
This close, I can smell him. It is not the pungent animal stink I expected. Instead, he smells like pine and smoke, like pepper and clove. Musty and masculine and woodsy. Christmasy.
He takes another step, and I regain my senses. I swing my branch, teeth gritted with the effort as it whistles through the sparse remaining space between us.
The monster doesn’t budge. Instead, his nostrils flare and he inhales deeply, audibly, his eyes locked on me.
“I smell your sin,” he says, and he sounds hungry.
I cannot form words in my blind panic. But as he steps forward, I swing again with a scream of fear and fury, the branch heading straight toward his broad chest.
He drops the chain he carries and grabs the tree branch midair. He tightens his grip and pulls.
The force of it lifts me straight off the ground. I gasp, releasing my poor excuse for a weapon, and fall. My feet hit the icy ground awkwardly, and I fall right on my ass in front of him.
He tosses my stick aside without breaking eye contact and bends down to retrieve his chains again.
I scramble backward in the snow as he steps forward, towering over me.
“Wait,” I gasp. “Please!”
He continues toward me, step by slow step, regardless of my pleas. My back hits a tree, and I cower against it, lifting one hand in front of my face, a pointless attempt at defending myself.
I’m no angel. The lies, the cons, the stealing…
I won’t deny that I deserve to be punished for what I’ve done.
But surely, I’m not the only one. Louis and his family deserve a taste of punishment too.
They’re the ones who brought me here, who tricked me.
And I know they’ve done worse. Why do they get away with it?
Why do people like them always get away with it?
It’s not fair, I want to scream. I did everything right.
But I’ve always known that the world isn’t fair.
It helps me justify the things I do. My lies and theft let me tip the balance of life’s scales, just a little bit.
Why shouldn’t I take what I want, when some people are given everything, for nothing other than the circumstances of their birth?
Why will everyone say eat the rich but judge me for the blood on my teeth?
“Why me?” I cry out against the wind. Tears trickle down my face and sting in the cold.
I stare up into the unfeeling red eyes of the monster looming over me.
“Don’t you want them?” I stab a shaking finger in the direction of the cabin where Louis and his family are hiding, safe and sound and warm, right now.
“Don’t the Kohlers deserve punishment too? ”
To my surprise, the creature pauses. His nostrils flare as his head turns toward the cabin I’m pointing toward. And I swear I catch emotion flitting across his monstrous features as his red eyes narrow in anger. In frustration.
“The Kohlers.” He speaks, his voice a low rumble that sends an entirely new wave of shivers through me. “I can smell their sin from here.”
My trembling finger drops. Even in a haze of panic, I know an opening when I see one. A way to manipulate this situation to my advantage.
“Then why don’t you go and get them?” I urge him. “Why don’t you punish them?”
His snarl rips through the air, and I jerk back against the tree with a gasp. He stomps one foot on the ground, dragging a hoof through the snow.
“Every year I try,” he says. “Every year they hide behind their walls.”
When his burning eyes turn on me again, it makes the air freeze in my lungs. But this anger isn’t directed at me.
So maybe it’s time to stoke the flames.
“You claim to give people what they deserve,” I say. “But you’ve failed.” I lick my chapped lips, venture a guess. “You’ve been failing for years, taking girls like me instead—”
The monster whips the birch rod against the tree just above my head, and I flinch away. He leans over me, his lip curling.
“You think you don’t deserve to be punished?” His nostrils flare again as he inhales my scent. “You stink of sin.”
“As much as they do?” I ask, forcing the words out even though my voice shakes. My hands curl into fists at my sides. “That can’t be true.”
“They are out of my reach.” He raises the rod again, his expression going cold. “My job is to punish those I can. And I have a sinner in front of me.”
“No!” I refuse to give in now. “Please, I— What if I—” I pause, sucking in a breath. “What if I can help you get them?”
Krampus goes still above me, the birch rod frozen midair. “You? Help me?” He sneers as if the thought is laughable.
“Yes.” I lift my chin and force myself to meet his eyes, even as I tremble. “I can help you get to them.”