A Krampus Country Christmas: Day 14

 

Chapter 14: The Naughty Whisperers

(Confidential Memorandum – Krampus, Vice Director of Naughty List Enforcement, Northern Hemisphere Division)

The first sign that something was wrong came at 3:17 p.m., when my tail twitched.

That might not mean much to you, but for me, it’s the equivalent of an email marked urgent from headquarters. No return address, no subject line—just that slow, creeping sense that someone, somewhere, is checking your timecard.

By sunset, they had arrived.

                                                                                                                                                                                                              

I was at The Jolly Bean Coffeehouse, trying not to replay my kiss with Holly on a loop in my head, when I felt it: a ripple in the air, faintly sulfuric, faintly peppermint. Then came the sound—a whisper, like sandpaper scraping through tinsel.

Three of them materialized by the door, disguised—poorly—as tourists.

They were wearing matching “I ❤️ Tinsel Bluff” sweatshirts, camera straps around their necks. It was a blatant attempt to fit in amongst the locals by three individuals incapable of doing so. I knew them instantly.

Blip. Snarl. Greeble.

Lesser demons. My former subordinates. The kind of underlings who quote the rulebook at you during lunch.

“Boss!” Blip hissed, sliding into the chair across from me. “We’ve been looking everywhere! You missed two check-ins, one compliance report, and an all-hands brimstone call!”

Snarl leaned close, voice like a broken accordion. “Head Office thinks you’re… compromised.”

Greeble nodded, eyes darting. “They said you’ve gone soft. That you’re fraternizing with humans.”

I set down my cup carefully. “I am playing a long game right now.”

Blip smirked. “Is that what they’re calling it when you make goo-goo eyes at the mortal?”

“I do not make goo-goo eyes,” I said, perhaps too defensively.

“Really? Because the surveillance imps caught you smiling.”

“That was a professional courtesy.”

Snarl leaned in, nostrils flaring. “Smelled like affection to me. You know the penalty for compromised loyalty.”

“Yes,” I said, jaw tight. “Reassignment.” I took a breath. “Tell Management I am on schedule. The target, Max Winters, is still under review. Preliminary analysis suggests significant naughtiness potential. Personally, I sense he has a master plan afoot that will seal his fate.”

Greeble cocked his head. “So you’re still gonna take the kid?”

“Eventually.”

Blip grinned. “Good. Because if you don’t, we get to.”

That twisted something in me—something old, territorial, and far too human. “No,” I said quietly. “This assignment remains mine.”

Snarl’s eyes narrowed. “Careful, Boss. Sounds like attachment.”

“Sounds like insubordination,” I countered.

They shrank back a little, the smell of ozone prickling the air. Demonic hierarchy may be cruel, but it’s clear. I still outranked them for now.

Blip stood, brushing crumbs from his sweatshirt. “We’ll be watching, Krampy. HQ doesn’t like it when field agents start believing in—what’s that word?—love.”

They vanished in a puff of sulfur-scented smoke.

I sat there for a long moment, staring at the steaming mug in my hands. The cocoa suddenly tasted bitter. Outside, Tinsel Bluff twinkled with impossible cheer. Across the street, Holly Winters was closing up her shop, laughing at something Max said. I told myself I wasn’t protecting them. That this was still about procedure, about finishing the job. But when I saw the shadows of my minions flit along the rooftops, whispering to one another like vultures in tinsel, something inside me hardened. No one was taking that boy. No one was touching that woman. If headquarters wanted a performance review, fine.

They were about to see just how motivated I could be.

 

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