A Krampus Country Christmas: Day 16

 

Chapter 16: Krampusnacht Approaches

Snow came early that night. Thick, heavy flakes fell straight down without drifting, as if the sky were simply giving up and dumping everything it had left.

Holly stood at the window long after Max had gone to bed, watching the storm settle over the ridge. The farmhouse creaked under the cold. The wind hummed low and strange against the eaves. Something about it set her teeth on edge. She tried to shake it off. Storms happened. Weather happened. But this felt deliberate.

As though December itself had decided to lean in close and whisper.

Max hadn’t told her about the dreams yet. Not all of them. Just that morning, he had mentioned something about a “red forest,” the trees glowing like embers, the snow falling upward instead of down. She’d assumed it was the result of too much cocoa and not enough sleep. But later, as she tucked him in, he held her hand tighter than usual.

“Mom… if someone comes for me on Christmas… would you be scared?”

She brushed his curls back. “Nobody’s coming for you, Max.”

He nodded, but his eyes lingered on the dark corner of his room like he expected something to step out.

She’d stayed with him until he slept. She’d stayed longer than that. Long enough to realize she was afraid, too. Of what, she wasn’t sure. Or maybe she was but didn’t dare say it.

Max hadn’t told her about the dreams yet. Not all of them. Just that morning, he had mentioned something about a “red forest,” the trees glowing like embers, the snow falling upward instead of down. She’d assumed it was the result of too much cocoa and not enough sleep. But later, as she tucked him in, he held her hand tighter than usual.

“Mom… if someone comes for me on Christmas… would you be scared?”

She brushed his curls back. “Nobody’s coming for you, Max.”

He nodded, but his eyes lingered on the dark corner of his room like he expected something to step out.

She’d stayed with him until he slept. She’d stayed longer than that. Long enough to realize she was afraid, too. Of what, she wasn’t sure. Or maybe she was but didn’t dare say it.

That Nick hadn’t shown up for dinner was enough to leave Holly uneasy. For days, he’d been everywhere — trimming trees, fixing fences, reviewing cookie economics as though her business were a sacred relic in need of preservation. And after the snowfall kiss, he’d been gentler. More present.

But today? He’d been distant. Distracted.

At the tree lot earlier, she’d caught him staring at the tree line, muscles taut beneath his coat, as if listening to something only he could hear.

“Nick?” she’d asked.

He’d blinked out of it, murmuring, “Just preparing. The season has demands.”

Now that the storm was here, she couldn’t shake the feeling that “the season” had little to do with caroling and cocoa and stocking hung by the fire with care.

Near midnight, she heard a noise outside. Not footsteps. More like heavy claws dragging across old wood. Her heart stuttered. She grabbed her lantern and stepped onto the porch. The sharp December wind stung her cheeks.

“Nick?” she called. “If that’s you, this isn’t funny!”

The wind swallowed her voice. The movements stopped. She held her breath. A moment later, a low voice emerged from the dark.

“Miss Winters?”

Holly nearly dropped the lantern. Nick stepped into the light like he’d been carved from the night itself. Tall, rigid, snow dusting his coat and hair. Only his eyes were warm, though even they carried a tension she hadn’t seen before.

“Nick, what on earth—?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, cutting her off. His voice was steady but strained. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

He hesitated, glancing toward Max’s window.

“You should stay inside tonight.”

Her stomach tightened. “Why? What’s happening?”

Nick opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. He looked like a man trying to decide whether to drop a bomb or swallow one.

“It’s nothing,” he said at last. “But the storm. It can be unpredictable.”

“You’re shaking,” she whispered.

He swallowed hard. He was shaking not from cold but from something else. Fear? No. Conflict.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, stepping back into the dark.

“Nick—”

But he was gone. Not walking away. Gone. Like the snow had simply closed around him.

Holly stood on the porch long after, lantern flickering, trying to breathe through the dread curling in her chest.

In the woods nearby, three shadowy figures slithered through the snow, whispering to each other in voices thin as broken icicles.

“He’s losing control,” one hissed.

“He’s delaying the assignment,” another crooned.

“He’s compromised,” the third giggled.

The whisper rose through the trees, winding toward the red forest in Max’s dreams.

Krampusnacht was coming.

And Krampus — whether he wanted it or not — was being called home.

My new comedic sci-fi novel, Someone Else's Book Club, is available on my website or through Amazon!