Chapter 9 #2
But first, I had to survive.
The moment Krampus lunged again, I didn’t think. I acted. My knives clattered to the frozen ground as I reached over my shoulder, gripping the hilt of my saber. The familiar weight felt like an extension of my arm as I drew it, the blade catching the moon’s faint light.
Krampus barreled toward me, his claws outstretched, his roar shaking the very air around us.
I waited until the last second, twisting to the side and driving my saber forward with every ounce of strength I had.
The blade sank deep into his chest, before I yanked it back.
His scream tore through the night, a guttural, unearthly sound that made the trees seem to shiver.
He stumbled back, clutching at the wound as blood spurted onto the snow in dark, steaming arcs.
I kept my blade raised, ready for him to come at me again, but he hesitated, his fiery eyes blazing with fury as he glared at me.
He was hurt, badly. It wasn’t fatal, but it was enough to make him think twice. He’d need time to heal.
Krampus growled low in his throat, his chest heaving as blood seeped through his fingers. “This isn’t over,” he hissed, his voice full of venom.
I didn’t respond. My attention snapped back to Liam, who was still on the ground, clutching his head and writhing in agony. I couldn’t leave him. Not even to finish Krampus off. My son came first.
Krampus must have seen the shift in my focus, because he smirked, despite the pain etched on his monstrous face. Then, without another word, he turned and ran, his hooves pounding against the frozen earth as he disappeared into the woods.
I didn’t chase him. I couldn’t. My saber clattered to the ground as I dropped to my knees beside Liam, my heart racing.
The air still felt heavy, charged with the tension of what had just happened, but all I could think about was my son.
Whatever Krampus had done to him, I was going to find a way to fix it. No matter the cost.
I dropped to my knees beside Liam, my heart pounding as I grabbed his shoulders, trying to steady him. “Liam,” I said, my voice trembling. “What’s going on? Talk to me!”
He groaned, his hands clutching his head, his knuckles white. “It’s my head,” he gasped, his voice raw and broken. “It’s on fire—I can’t… I can’t stop it. It’s burning.”
My chest tightened, panic clawing at my throat. “What’s burning? What do you mean? Look at me, Liam!”
And then he did. His eyes snapped up to mine, and the look he gave me sent a cold, sharp chill through my body. His face was pale, his features twisted in disbelief, horror etched into every line. His gaze locked onto me like I was a stranger, someone, or something he didn’t recognize.
“Mom…” he whispered, his voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of my heart hammering in my chest.
I reached for him again, but he flinched, scrambling back so quickly it was as if I burned him. His hands shot out behind him, palms pressing into the snow as he put as much space between us as he could. His eyes were wide, his breathing ragged, and the disbelief hadn’t left his face.
“Liam,” I said softly, my voice cracking as I tried to keep the fear out of it. “It’s me. I’m right here.”
“No,” he breathed, shaking his head violently, his eyes darting between me and the ground like he couldn’t reconcile what he was seeing. “No, no… what did you…” His words broke off into a sharp gasp, and his whole body shuddered.
My heart splintered. The look on his face wasn’t just disbelief. It was fear—fear of me.
“Liam, please,” I whispered, my hands trembling as I reached toward him. “I’m your mom. Whatever’s happening, we’ll fix it. I swear.”
But he shook his head again, backing farther away. “Stay back,” he said, his voice barely holding together. “I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t even know what’s real.”
His words hit like a punch to the gut, and I froze, my hands hovering uselessly in the air. My son, the boy I’d spent my entire life trying to protect, was looking at me like I was a monster. And I didn’t know how to make it stop.
Liam pushed himself up from the ground, his legs unsteady beneath him as he stood, still clutching his head like it might split apart.
He retrieved his gun and had it aimed loosely at me.
His movements were jerky, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.
He stumbled back, his boots crunching on the frozen moss, putting more space between us.
His wide, disbelieving eyes stayed locked on me, and I could see the storm raging behind them—confusion, fear, and something darker.
“Liam,” I said, rising to my feet but keeping my hands out in front of me, palms open. “It’s me. Please, just stop for a second and let me explain.”
He didn’t stop. He kept backing away, shaking his head, his face twisted with a mix of pain and betrayal. “No,” he said, his voice cracking. “No, you don’t get to explain. Not this. Not… not that.”
My chest tightened, and a cold knot formed in my stomach. “What are you talking about? Liam, what did Krampus do to you? What’s going on?”
And then it happened. The words I’d always dreaded, the ones I’d prayed I’d never have to hear.
“You killed Dad.” His voice trembled, raw and broken, but the accusation hit me like a blade to the heart. “You killed him.”
I froze, the breath leaving my lungs as if I’d been punched. My heart felt like it stopped in my chest, and the world around me seemed to tilt. For a moment. “What?” I whispered, barely able to get the word out. “Liam… no. That’s not—”
“Don’t lie to me!” he yelled, his voice hoarse and cutting through the stillness of the forest. He took another step back, his hands falling to his sides, trembling. “It’s in my head now. I saw it, Mom. I saw what you did.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I forced myself to stay calm. To stay focused. “Liam, listen to me,” I said, my voice shaking. “Whatever you think you saw, it’s not the whole story. Krampus did something to you. He put something in your head.”
“You’re lying,” he said, his voice cracking. “You always lie. You never tell me anything. And now I know why.”
The pain in his voice was unbearable, and I could feel my heart breaking with every word. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My son—my everything—was looking at me like I was a monster. I was no longer sure if he was wrong.