Chapter 3 #2
Before I could say more, Nishi froze mid-step, her eyes going glassy and distant, like she’d suddenly been unplugged from reality. Her entire body stiffened, her hand still clutching the edge of the desk as though she’d been stopped mid-motion.
“Nishi?” I said, frowning, but Eve stepped in, her tone laced with mild exasperation.
“Relax. She’s getting a magical download.” She gestured vaguely, as if this was just another Tuesday.
I crossed my arms, watching as Nishi’s eyes flickered, her breath hitching slightly before she blinked back into focus.
Her gaze snapped to mine, sharp and urgent.
“It’s him,” she said without preamble. “Krampus. He uses fear to torment his victims, and it fits. He binds them and whips them with a ruten—a birch branch.”
“So, he killed Brody because he liked kids more than he should,” Eve said, her voice clipped, her disgust palpable.
“Seems like it,” Nishi agreed, her face darkening as she glanced at the camera on the desk.
I blew out a breath, trying to process the tangled web of justice and horror we’d just unraveled. “Well,” I said after a moment, my tone dry, “I’m not sure if I should apprehend Krampus or give him a medal.”
Eve snorted, her lips twitching in a reluctant smirk. “Good luck explaining that to the supernatural council. ‘Sorry for bringing him in, but have you considered an employee of the month?’”
Nishi shook her head, though a ghost of a smile flickered across her face. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
The door creaked open, and Aurora and Victor stepped back inside, brushing snow off their coats. The tension in their postures was noticeable, but Victor’s gaze was even harder to miss. He’d caught the tail end of our conversation, and he didn’t bother hiding it.
“Neither,” Victor said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade.
I straightened, narrowing my eyes at him. “Why?”
“Because,” he said, crossing his arms, “Krampus doesn’t do shades of gray. To him, any infraction is a death sentence.”
The reality of his words hung in the air, and even Nishi’s usual smirk faltered. Aurora’s brow furrowed, her eyes locking onto Victor. “And how exactly do you know so much about Krampus?”
Victor’s expression didn’t waver, though his jaw tightened slightly.
“I don’t know much,” he admitted, glancing at the camera on the desk as if it might offer more answers than he could.
“What I do know is from old lore. He’s not a typical demon.
He doesn’t crave chaos or destruction for its own sake.
Krampus is methodical. He punishes those he deems guilty, and his punishments are extreme. ”
“Extreme how?” Eve asked, crossing, her arms.
Victor tilted his head, his voice even but grim. “The birch branch, the bindings—those are his calling cards. But the fear… that’s the real weapon. He thrives on it. It’s not just about killing. It’s about making his victims suffer in every way possible.”
“Great,” Nishi muttered, crossing her arms. “So, he’s got a sadistic streak and a moral code. Sounds like a great combo.”
Aurora didn’t take her eyes off Victor. “If you don’t know much, how can you be sure he’s topside? Or that this is him?”
Victor’s gaze flicked toward the photos and then back to Aurora. “I’m not, but everything about this lines up with his M.O. The birch branches, the way Brody was bound, the sheer terror on his face. If this isn’t Krampus, it’s someone mimicking him perfectly.”
I let out a slow breath, processing everything. If Victor was right, then Krampus wasn’t just punishing the guilty. He was making a statement. And judging by the fear etched into Brody’s face, it wasn’t one anyone would want to ignore.
“Well,” I said, my voice dry, “this just keeps getting better.”
I nibbled my cheek as I stared at Victor. “Do you know what his weakness is?” I asked, my voice steady but edged with urgency. If we were dealing with Krampus, we needed every advantage.
Victor shook his head, his expression grim. “No. I don’t.”
A frustrated sigh slipped past my lips before I could stop it, but Victor continued, his tone heavy with something that sounded like regret. “I do know that he was forced back to the Underworld after his last visit. Banished. He wasn’t supposed to be able to return.”
That stopped me cold. “Banished? By who?”
Victor shrugged, his shoulders tight. “No idea. I assume the council. It was before my time. All I know is that it wasn’t an easy feat. Whoever managed it didn’t just send him back—they made sure he wasn’t allowed topside again.”
“Well, clearly, that didn’t stick,” Nishi muttered, her tone biting as she glanced toward the door, as though expecting Krampus himself to stroll in.
Aurora frowned, her arms crossed, her eyes drilling into Victor. “If he was banned, how is he here now?”
Victor’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting between us. “I don’t know. But if he’s here, something’s changed. Either he was never really gone, or Krampus found a way to return.”
The room fell silent, the magnitude of his words pressing down on all of us. If Krampus had found a way to circumvent the gate, we weren’t just dealing with a demon who punished the guilty. We were dealing with something far more dangerous.
The room buzzed with questions, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.
“Where would he go?” Nishi asked, pacing in tight circles near the desk. Her cutting tone mirrored the worry etched across her face.
Aurora crossed her arms, her brow furrowed in concentration. “If he’s targeting people like Brody, then maybe somewhere connected to kids? A school? A daycare? Or he might stay near here since he already struck in the village.”
“But how do we even track him?” Eve chimed in. “He’s not going to leave a neon sign pointing the way.
I stayed quiet, my mind racing as they volleyed questions back and forth, each one harder to answer than the last. Krampus wasn’t like the usual supernatural beings we tracked down. He didn’t have predictable patterns or known weaknesses. At least none that we knew about.
Victor finally raised a hand, his expression as grim as ever. “Hold on,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise. “Before we even figure out where he went, I want to know how the hell he got here in the first place.”
The room went still, everyone turning to look at him.
Victor’s jaw tightened, his frustration clear. “Krampus was banished. He wasn’t supposed to be able to set foot topside again. Sharun was supposed to be stopping demons at the gate.”
Sharun. The gatekeeper of the Underworld. The one who was supposed to make sure things like this didn’t happen.
Eve frowned, her arms crossing tighter. “So, what? Sharun let him through?”
Victor shook his head, his tone sharp. “That’s the thing. I don’t think Sharun would just let him through. Something must have gone wrong, or someone bypassed him entirely.”
Aurora narrowed her eyes, her voice low and dangerous. “If Sharun isn’t stopping demons, we’ve got bigger problems than Krampus.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Because if Krampus can break through, who else can?”
The room went silent again, the weight of the realization settling over us. Krampus was bad enough, but the thought of the gate between worlds cracking open was terrifying on a whole new level.
I squared my shoulders, forcing my focus back to the immediate problem. “One thing at a time,” I said, my voice firm. “Right now, we need to figure out where Krampus is and how to stop him. Then we’ll deal with Sharun.”
Victor nodded, though the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. None of ours did.