38. Vesper #2
Despite the upbeat music and the cheerful decorations, I can’t help but feel the malice in the room.
I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the too wide smile Anders wears as he gestures for us to take a seat on the large couch before he starts to pass out the wrapped gifts.
He sets four of the wrapped boxes in front of me, each expertly tied with a bow.
Locke only gets two, though one of them is larger.
Svetlana gets the small gift Anders had procured from nowhere. I stare at my stack nervously.
“You didn’t get any gifts?” I ask Anders when he hovers and doesn’t get any more presents.
He claps his hands. “My apologies. I really love when people open gifts. Gift giving is one of my love languages.” He turns and looks at the gifts under the tree. “This one is for me.”
I don’t see a tag on it like there is for ours. “And what about Gustav?”
Until this point, he hasn’t said a word. He’d been standing against the wall, his eyes wide and blank as he stared at nothing. The moment I say his name, his expression comes to life and he smiles at me, as if my words are like a flipped switch.
“I’m unfortunately on the naughty list this year,” he says. Then he leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, “I had too many bourbons last Christmas and broke one of the Santa pictures.”
I glance at Anders. “But you’re on the nice list?”
“I’m always on the nice list,” Anders nods. “I’m a really nice guy actually.”
The way he says, “Nice,” unnerves me. I can’t put my finger on why. Maybe it’s because back in Dross, anyone claiming to be friendly or “nice” were usually just waiting for the perfect moment to stab you in the back.
“Ope, we have one more!” Anders says, clapping. “Merry Christmas, Krampus.”
From the left of the room, a large . . . creature appears. Both Locke and I leap to our feet, our weapons in our hands instantly. I’m not sure what we can do. We can’t stab the creature without repercussions from the safehouse, but this thing is large.
He’s covered in fur from head to toe. Funny enough, he doesn’t have toes. He has hooves that he carefully clomps in on some sort of creature type legs. There are horns sprouting from his head that curl up and back. He’s completely black and he’s so tall, his horns scrap the ceiling.
“Sit down,” Anders orders us. “He may look scary, but he isn’t going to hurt you.”
Krampus is carrying a large sack on his shoulder as he walks in.
He drops it on the ground with a thud before he takes a seat across from us.
His large black eyes take me in first before looking over at Locke.
Whatever he sees doesn’t seem to please him.
The sound of gentle crying coming from the sack contradicts Anders’ words.
“Uh . . .” Locke says, staring at Krampus.
“Merry Christmas,” Krampus says. I’d expected his voice to be deep and burly. What I don’t expect is the very high-pitched, nasally voice that comes from his lips. “We opening gifts, or what?”
“Are you a player?” I ask, confused. I’ve seen Luxe Guards who have wings or other strange modifiers. I’ve never seen one look quite so . . . monstrous.
Krampus meets my eyes. At least, I think he meets my eyes. There’s no way to be certain. The entirety of his eye is black. No pupil. Only the shine of the bright light strands reflecting in them.
“Do I look like a player, Snitzel?”
“So . . . you’re an NPC?” I press.
The cries from the sack get louder and it starts to move, something in the bag squirming. I reach over and touch Locke’s leg. Anders doesn’t miss the action.
“Open your presents,” Krampus says instead of answers. “Santa gives the best presents.”
Part of me wants to just throw the presents at them and run away.
With this beast of an NPC sitting threateningly across from us and Steve, the biblically accurate Ophanim, glitching between fast rotations and slow, the aura in the room feels so heavy, I could choke on it.
What exactly is happening here? And why is every single eye on me?
I pick up the gift on top and slowly tear the metallic paper off. Inside is a box. When I open it, I find a small Christmas ball inside. When I pick it up, my menu opens.
BAUBLE BOMB; RARE ITEM
This festive ornament can be thrown, causing each creature within a three-meter distance to take damage. Christmas this year is positively explosive!
My brows shoot up. “Wow. Thank you, Anders.”
“I didn’t get it for you,” Anders says, shaking his head. “Santa brings the gifts. Not me.”
Somehow, that feels like a lie, especially since I’d watched him procure a present for Svetlana out of nowhere, or better described as his pocket.
Locke grabs one of his two presents and tears it open with more gusto than I expect. When he opens the box and frowns, I lean over to get a look. He picks it up and reveals a sprig of green leaves with three tiny red berries on it.
“Mistletoe, common item,” he reads from his menu. “Now kiss. You know you want to.” He glances at me and the item disappears in his inventory. “Okay then.”
Svetlana slices her package apart and rips the small box open. She stares at the pair of socks that clearly were made for a human and not a praying mantis when they fall from the package. She looks at them in disgust before glancing up at Anders. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Anders’ eye twitches. I almost miss it. I would have had I not been looking at him. “You’re not being ungrateful, are you, Svetlana?”
“Ungrateful about a gift that is not made for me?” she says, tilting her head. When she looks at me, I know she understands the situation a little more clearly. “Of course not,” she lies. “I love them.”
Anders nods. “Now you again, Vesper.”
I pick up the second gift and unwrap it. This time, when I open the box, I don’t immediately pick up the item. I stare at it where it rests in the large box. Surprisingly, I know what it is. I close the box.
“What is it?” Locke asks.
“Nothing,” I murmur, setting it aside.
“Hold it up!” Anders says gleefully. “We all want to see.”
“Yeah,” Krampus says, watching me with those dark eyes. “We want to see.”
“Vespera,” Cipher says in my mind. “Tread carefully.”
Fuck. I’d thought we could at least get through this without trouble, but clearly, I’m wrong. Over on top of the tree, Steve pulses with painful light. When I glance at him, his rings stop orbiting, as if he’s trying to tell me something. Then they rotate again, and stop a little more urgently.
“Silly me,” I say, opening the box again and reaching in for the item. I grimace as the menu pops open when I touch it.
USED DILDO, FILTHY ITEM
Congrats! Someone really wants you to go fuck yourself and you’re not going to enjoy it. Wash your hands.
It takes everything in me to keep from dropping it. Instead, I force myself to hold it up.
I drop the thing back in the box and set it aside before anyone can say anything. Locke, to his credit, does not comment, but I can see the ticks in his jaw.
“Your turn,” I tell him, gesturing to his box. Harrow, what the fuck will this one be?
Locke reaches for the package and studies the top. He frowns. “This one isn’t for me.”
“Of course it is,” Anders says, smiling brightly.
Locke turns it. “Then why does it say To Liam on the top of it?”
Anders’ face reddens. “I don’t know a Liam. That gift is for you.”
Locke raises his brow. “It clearly says Liam, not Locke.”
“Santa wrote the wrong name,” Anders tries again, getting agitated. “Clearly. I’ve seen, I mean, he’s seen so many players recently that he must have gotten mixed up. Please accept my apologies on his behalf.”
Locke’s brows furrow deeper. “But I thought we were the only players you’ve seen in months?” he says, and there’s a slight growl to his voice.
I reach over and clench my hand in his trousers, a warning. He clamps his mouth shut and then smiles, getting my signal loud and clear.
“You know what?” he says, grinning. “Who cares? I can be Liam today.”
Anders relaxes and beams as Locke tears into the package. When he opens it and looks inside, I can tell it takes everything in him to keep his smile in place.
He hands the box to me rather than lift it out. I take it and pick up the small item inside.
A SINGLE CHILDREN’S SHOE, LUCK CHARM
The child this once belonged to no longer exists on any plane. Keeping this item in your pocket could bring you luck. Tread carefully. I didn’t say good luck.
“Don’t touch it,” Cipher growls in my mind and I immediately drop it back into the box.
“Santa knows me so well,” Locke says carefully.
Anders nods. “I . . . well, Santa definitely knows how to give a good gift.” He looks back at me eagerly. “Your turn again, Vesper.”
Svetlana carefully crawls along the back of the couch before leaping back onto my shoulder.
She presses against me, as if offering comfort as I pick up the small present.
I don’t want to open it. Something tells me it’s going to get worse and worse as I do.
Still, if we’re keeping up appearances, I have to open it.
If only so we can pretend long enough to put our clothes back on and get out of this fucking place.
I slowly untie the ribbon on top, watching as the bow unfolds.
Anders and Krampus seem to lean forward in anticipation.
I peel the wrapping paper away to reveal a velvet box.
When I pop it open, I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking at.
Not until I press a finger to them and the menu interface pops up.
NIPPLE CLAMPS OF THE MOTHER
You kinky bitch, you! While wearing these nipple clamps, your breasts will produce enough milk to save an infant or wow an audience. Dealer’s choice. Its effects can be nullified with the use of the safe word.
SAFEWORD: rechtsschutzversicherungsgellschaften
I hope you’ve been working on your German!
My mind flashes over the glass of breastmilk that Anders had put out for “Santa” the night before and I glance up at him. His smile is still firmly in place.
“Is this supposed to be funny?” I ask.