Curse of Krampus (RP for Guardianjohran)

[KathyKane]

Kirsten Kringle sighs as "Baby it's cold outside" begins to play over again, signifying that the custom playlist she'd prepared had started over for the fourth time. She stands, sighing and glanced at her IPhone for the 80th time. Should she call him back? Casper meant well, he couldn't have known how devastated she'd be, maybe there was time to save the weekend...?

"He needs to text me back first, NO, that JERK had better call back and apologize!" standing up from where she had been curled in front of the big brick fireplace, the roaring fire she'd built up earlier now just ashes and warm coals, she sighs again and looks down at herself, dressed in nothing but a silly red bikini bottom and top with fuzzy white trim, a "Naughty Mrs Claus" kind of outfit she'd hope to surprise Casper in. "Damn that man!" standing, feeling silly and disgusted, she stamps over to the laptop slamming it closed before "Santa Baby" can begin playing.

Cursing, she peels the flirty outfit from her body and hurries up the stairs to the bedroom. Despite the heater, everyplace in the old rustic cabin feels freezing cold against her naked skin, and it's not long before she bundles herself into a comfortable pair of slinky PJs, ones she'd originally bought for him as well, a snug onesie with a cheerful holiday pattern. Crying, cursing, Kirsten, takes the time to go to the adjoining bathroom and brush her teeth, fuming the whole time at her reflection that shows a tall, willowy woman with smooth and silky raven hair, and a pair of deep blue eyes. "Snow white with a nice ass" Casper would often joke, and here she was at her Parent's old ski cabin, and he was still in New York, on Christmas Eve! And nary a warning call as midnight quickly approached.

Huffing, she quickly blows out the red cinnamon scented candles, the ones she'd arranged around the hot tub upstairs, and after one more disgusted look at her phone, on which not one new message or text had appeared, tosses it in the corner of the room and snuggles underneath several layers of covers. Anger, sadness, disappointment, and fatigue combine to make a powerful sleeping tonic that lulls her into a deep slumber.

[guardianjohran]

His hooves crunched in the snow as he strolled through the woods. He was glad to have gotten out of that last awful city. He didn't actually hate humans -strange to say, given his role in their course on this planet, but hey, everyone had a job to do- but he did absolutely loathe their cities. The toxis scent, the awful din, the stark, constant opressive light. It was no wonder humanity behaved the way it did, living in an environment like that. He had certainly not been as busy back then as he was now. Not for the first time, not even for the first time tonight, he cursed that his true power had been limited by that cursed pact, that he couldn't really turn himself loose and drag their false monuments, their gaudy stone towers back down into the Earth.

He took a deep breath, walking in no hurry. The woods were quiet. Of course they always were, when he was around Nothing dared stir, in his presence. lest it catch his wrath. He was approaching the cabin there, moving in a slow circle as he walked. He had no need to rush about like the humans. Of course, he *did* have to make it all the way around the world in a single night, a condition of the pact that bound him to Saint Nicholas. But by virtue of the same magic, he also had all the time in the world to do it. Time didn't have the same grasp on the Krampus as it had on those who cowered at the mention of his name. Or, who used to, before he'd been relegated down to a childrens' bedtime story.

Yes... This was the right cabin. He smiled a little. It was not a pleasant expression. He didn't hate humans, no, he was just doing his job... But sometimes, he really enjoyed his job. This was something of a personal matter. The woman inside, one Kirsten Kringle -no relation, he assumed- had been... avoiding him... for her entire life now. Something that shouldn't have even been possible for most humans, but she'd been protected by another. One who knew magics as old as he was. One that was no longer at her side. Removing a scroll from a pouch on his belt, he whistled a little tune, as he studied it's contents. <i>*He's making a list... He's checking it twice*</i> he whistled, much to his own amusement. It was that very list in his hands now. Ironic that the children who sang that tune so merrily alsways assumed they were singing the praises of Saint Nicholas. Everyone always seemed to think all the old Yule tunes were about the Saint, when in fact it was just the opposite that was true. Those catchy tunes weren't songs of adulation and happiness. They were warnings, set to music so they'd be better committed to memory.

Brushing a few errant snowflakes off of hs fur, he let the hood of his cloak fall down to his back. And then it was time. His time. Krampusnacht. He swept his hands about his sides, allowing his cloak to flare out, inhaling deeply as he fired up the old magic. The sound of bells ringing, echoed across the night sky. But this was not a harmonic sound. It was a discordant, cracked rattling like the jingling of a thousand broken, misshapen bells, rather than the happy chiming people normally associated with this time of year. Bending hs knees, he lept, launching himself into the air, and landing easily atop the roof of the cabin with a *THUMP*. His hooves clicked against the shingles as he made his way toward the chimney. Yet another Christmas tune that had been misinterpreted over the years. He waved a hand over the mouth of the chimney. Still a little warm. No matter. He flicked his forked tongue, and quickly vaulted into the old smoke stack. Granted, he was much too large to be able to maneuver in such a tight space, but that was just another aspect of the old bond, and it's powerful magic. Within a few seconds, he was ducking his head, and stepping out of the hearth, and into the quaint cabin.

"Merry Christmas..." He hissed, almost maliciously, to himself, as he dusted the soot off of his fur.

[KathyKane]

Sitting straight up in bed, she gasped and held the blankets to her breasts. What was that noise? The door? A car? She considered for a moment running downstairs and giving Casper a hug and a sweet, deep kiss, everything forgiven. But he'd been the one who'd canceled, he'd been inconsiderate and hadn't called till she was already undressed and waiting for him. With a snort of her prim little nose, she lay back on the bed and pulled the covers over her, she'd let him come upstairs and apologize, he was in the dog house till he made it up to her. The time off from work, her parents old cabin, them having the whole week to themselves, he had a lot to benefit if he apologized well.

She reflected that she'd gone to bed in her tight little onesie, she thought it was kind of dumb, but he always really liked it when she wore it, it was bright red with greed plaid, and even had a flap that opened in the back like a real pair of PJs kids had used ages ago, but it had a zipper in front so she could slip out of its easy, and it was snug and accentuated her voluptuous form quite nicely. Wouldn't matter if he weren't charming, if he wasn't practically groveling for all the emotional trouble he'd put her through. She snuggled down in the blankets and waited.

There it was, a creaking stair, and then another, he must be trying to be so quiet. She smiled despite herself, and wished she'd reapplied her makeup before he'd gotten back. Was that him? Out in the hall? She heard something scrape against the wooden support beams outside her door, what would be tall enough to reach them, those beams were a good seven feet up!

She held her breath, and then realized she was holding her breath and tried to effect a slow regular breathing rhythm. The doorknob was turning, and she could swear she heard something musical. It was Casper! He was humming something, sounded like "Old Saint Nick." she frowned, he shouldn't be in a good mood, even if the meeting had gone well, he'd upset her. She rolled over with a fake yawn, turning her back toward the door where he'd entered from, he was going to have to BEG her to take him back now!

He was still humming, and there was a smell, something earthy, and pine sweet, but also something almost smokey and menacing. Had he been smoking at the meeting? She resolved to wait until he came up and whispered in her ear, nuzzled her neck, all the thing she liked. Then they would talk. She waited, her heard the boards creak as he crossed the room, and again, something scraped the support beams above her, was he carrying something with him? Warm air at her neck, she smiled and waited for his touch...

Something course and hairy touched her neck, along with a outtake of hot, musky breath, she screamed, turned about in surprise, and screamed again at the sight.

[guardianjohran]

It didn't take him more than a few seconds to survey the cabin. He wouldn't exactly call it small, for he'd visited smaller. Cozy, he thought, was the word they used to describe a place like this. The downstairs was all about the more public rooms. That must mean the bedrooms were upstairs. So if his prey was no longer sitting in front of the fireplace -she must have been relatively recently for it to have still been warm- then she must have gone to bed. Visions of sugarplums dancing in her head, no doubt. She was due a change of scenery. He strolled up the staircase, that list still in his hand. Her name was on there for sure. Her list of misbehaviors practically had earned her a list all her own. He actually had to unroll the scroll a little longer to be able to keep counting up her history.

He stopped at the top of the stairs, sniffing the air. The bedroom down the hall. That made sense. It was the largest of the bedrooms. He set off down the hallway, easing the door open, oh so casually. Still humming his little carol. His horns drug across the top of the door frame as he stepped inside, leaving two menacing rake marks carved in the wood, the tiniest whisp of smoke rolling off of them for an instant until the material cooled. He had never actually gotten so near to this particular quarry before. He was surprised she seemed to be sleeping so peacefully. Certainly he hadn't made any effort to be subtle, and he had been fairly certain he'd have woken her up, and found her cowering in the corner. One could only hope.

The old floorboards sagged and creaked as he made his way across the room, another of those support beams getting in the way of his horns, but it didn't matter to her. She was sleeping like a stone. He leaned down to inspect her. She really was no child anymore. He had trouble keeping track of human ages, their lives pased so fast. But she'd been on his list for most of hers, and he'd forgotten how she would have changed in all that time. She had become quite pretty, as they went. He snaked out his hand, brushing the backs of his fingers against her neck as he watched her sleep. And finally she stirred. More than that, she screamed. It was a sound of sheer terror. It was a wonderful, beautiful sound, and he drank it in like the finest wine.

For her to have come about so suddenly, she must have only been feigning sleep. So she'd heard him coming. But then, to not have turned toward his approach, she must have been expecting someone else. She wheeled around to look him in the face, and let out another blood curdling wail.

"Merry Christmas Kirsten." He laughed. It was a sound more like stones rattling in a kettle than any real joyous noise. As he stood back upright, he breathed another deep breath. "The sound of your fear, Kirsten. It's a symphony. You have a uniquely beautiful sort of terror." He flared his cloak out again, freeing up both his hands, which he rested by looping his thumbs into the belt at his waist. "Do you know who I am? Why I'm here? You haven't been a very nice girl, Kirsten."

((Okay so I know I didn't add much. Talky posts will probably be shorter and faster in between, so I didn't want to assume any dialogue from you))

[KathyKane]

Kirsten had been feigning sleep, and so didn't have the luxury of imagining she was dreaming. She'd heard the cottage floorboards creaking beneath the creatures weight, felt his hairy fingers at her neck! As nightmarish and dream-like the experience seemed, she knew she was awake. Stifling another scream, her wide eyes swept up and down her unearthly visitor.

Hooves, black as pitch, fangs set in a human face that sport many canine qualities, and a luxurious pair of horns that swept back from his temples, her first thought, that she was being visited by the Devil, seemed plausible. But there was also something earthy about him, something mortal. His worn cloak, the Celtic patterns on his belt, the course black fur that covered his legs. He was a Satyr, no, he was the Krampus. Her grandmother had always teased her with stories. Always warned her that her naughty habits and willfulness would net her a visit from the anti-Claus. And now he stood before her larger than life and oh-so-real!

"Y-your even taller than I imagined...I mean..." She cleared her throat and tried to find a confidant or a at least defiant tone. She now felt very silly in her snug Christmas colored onsie, like a little child, not sexy at all. "My Grandma told me about you...don't you...punish kids? Why are you here?"

She felt stupid interrogating a seven foot Satyr, but for the moment, curiosity was overcoming her terror.

[guardianjohran]

When he'd asked her if she knew who he was, he was expecting her to ask if he was the Devil. Almost everyone asked him that. Poor fools wouldn't recognize Satan if they encountered him on the street. Wouldn't believe him if he introduced himself by name. But th-

Well. She didn't seem to make that common mistake. The question about punishing children was a clear enough indicator she knew exactly what was going on.

"Not only children Kirsten. And even still, not all of you who behave like children are short in your years. Yes?" He had answered by reflex. Though, now he stopped to think about it... "You're questioning me? That isn't how this works. I'm not here for twenty questions girl. And if anything needs to be asked, I'll ask it." He stepped closer to the bed, leaning over her.

"You heard about me from your Grandmother. She warned you about the consequences of your actions, and you continued to behave as you had. Did she never tell you the whole story? Yule isn't some grand celebration. Not exclusively. There are powers that govern this realm. And this time is a reckoning. As each of your years ends, and a new begins, you humans start with a clean record. Your various goods or evils punished or rewarded. You've not seen me before this day have you? And yet you *know*how you've conducted yourself. How you've treated those you interact with, supposedly care about. Tell me Kirsten, what do you think that says about the state of your fresh start every year? I'm out of room on your list. And without your dear old Granny here to weave her old magics, there's nothing standing between you and the gates of fire."

[KathyKane]

Her fear, caught for the moment in her throat like a stifled scream by her curiosity began to rise again as her otherworldly visitor mentioned both hellish damnation, and the fact that he didn't just dispatch children. "I-I didn't know you were...I mean..."

Memories came flooding back to her, of warnings, and punishments given by a loving grandmother, a multitude of scary boogie-man stories with the Krampus starring in every one as the creature bested by good behavior and the dawn of Christmas morning. "She-she talked about you all the time...dozens of scary stories. She said you beat naughty kids, *gulp* took the really bad ones downstairs to be tortured...I was terrified of you, but-but she also painted you as a interesting, clever sort of villain."

She pulled her covers up to her neck to try and protect her body, which suddenly felt far too exposed in the skin-tight little onsie she'd thought to seduce her fiancé in. "Wh-when she punished me with the birch or paddle she always said, just so Krampus doesn't come to give you worse Krissie..." She pushed her bottom lip out in defiance. "B-but I'm adult now! I don't answer to you OR grandma's old fairy tales, I'm a asleep right now I bet, out of sorts over my crook of a boyfriend, I'm probably dreaming this WHOLE thing!"

She pointed a accusatory finger at her invader as she said these words, but felt warmth coming from his general direction to caress her bare skin. Like Scrooge before Marley, Kirsten was beginning to realize how much trouble she was in...

Her next question came out in a smaller more frightened tone. Tears standing in her deep blue eyes. "I...I've hung holly on the door, and...and mistletoe, isn't that supposed to keep you away or something?"

[guardianjohran]

He laughed again. Gods but that was not a kind sound. And he spread his arms wide as he spoke, almost more like he was mocking any kind of grand gesture, than actually making one himself.

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, Kirsten." He pointed a finger back out at hers, letting the heat of his being flow outward and tingle her hand as she gestured at him. "Though, I guess I can skip the bible quotes with you. Since you didn't actually accuse me of being Lucifer. But no. You aren't safe from me. Magic is about intent. You hung holly, and mistletoe. But you didn't believe in me. You're still not sure you believe in me and I'm right in front of you. Your wards only function as wards if you *mean* to place them as wards. You just decorated for Christmas - Why am I explaining this to you?" He scoffed at himself, and put his hand down.

"I suppose it is refreshing to deal with someone who can actually understand. Though you don't understand as much as you think, if you call me a villain. Even a clever one. I'm not a villain. I am consequence, personified. I'm only a villain because I keep you from doing whatever you want. But I don't exist unless what you want, is to treat others unkindly. So really isn't it *you* who's the villain, 'Krissie'?" He mocked her Grandmother's nick name for her. "Where is that old hag this year anyway, come to think of it?"

((Sorry this one isn't as horror-y. I didn't realize that until it was written and posted. I had just written another RP and was in kind of a different character mind-set. I'll dial this one back in, it'd just been a while on him and I've been so active on my other site I had gotten used to writing as that character.))

[KathyKane]

His use of her old nickname, and the mention of her grandmother caused a tear or two to escape her damp eyes. "That old HAG is dead now, you...you terrible creature! G-get out of her cabin, go! GO!" She hoped everything he'd said about belief becoming true was worth something, she tried to tell herself the demonic faun was just a dream, or at least she could control or banish him.

His self assured chuckling at her attempt made her go cold again however, and defeated, she collapsed back against her pillows. "W-what do you want then? You've come to...to take me to hell?"

Her mother had been a devout believer both in old world ways and religion, Kirstie hadn't really thought of it once she'd grown up, growing up a punishment from her strict grandmother had been the only thing that could put the fear of god in her, after her Grannie had passed when she was in her 19th year, her idea of "god" had pretty much died with her. She tried to imagine a literal, non-metaphorical hell, and her head filled with the boogiemen, tortures, and flames her grandmother had told her so many gruesome tales about...

Tales of naughty boys and girls who'd become Krampus victims if they didn't behave. She held back a sob, and stood up on her knees, clasping her hand together as if about to pray. "Ok, look, I didn't take my Grannie's warnings seriously, I'm sorry! I'm sorry alright? Can't you just leave? I've had a fight with my boyfriend, Christmas is going to be horrid, can't you just leave?"

[guardianjohran]

He actually stopped speaking, at her mention of her grandmother being dead. She'd notice his posture sag a little. He took the finger he had been pointing at her, and then Krampus himself even made the sign of the cross across his chest.

"That is... Rather sad. My, how the years get away. I didn't mean Hag as an insult to the old woman, in the sense that your vile society has bastardized the language into. It's a word older than you. She was a Hag. It's a title. A witch. One of the last few of your kind with a knack for the old magics. And as much as she frustrates me in my efforts to take you and your family to task as is my job, she has my respect." He spoke about her in the present tense. As if he had a different idea of life and death, and their relation to past and present.

"Yes Kristin. I did come in here to drag you down to Hell. You're not a child anymore. And the rules change when you get older. But, out of respect for your grandmother, and in memorium of her passing, I'll make you an offer. I'll make it one time. And you will answer it right away. You will not be allowed time to think it over. Out of respect for her legacy, I'll grant her the ability to save your life one last time. You will willingly receive the punishment you should have taken for your behaviors previously. I will punish you here and now. As I should have when you were a child. Your account will be settled, and you will have the chance to make right your misdeeds, and become the kind of woman your Grandmother would want of you, rather than this awful brat you're acting like now." He had dropped the devilish act. But to replace it was a certain kind of absoluteness in his voice. He wasn't trying to scare her anymore. He was speaking in plain terms. There was something inherently more mortal about him now. But on the other side of that, it made the reality of him, there, real, that much more impossible to deny.

"Decide." And with that he dropped the bag off of his shoulder. Not a bag of toys like old Nicholas would carry. This bag struck the floor with a thump, and fell open just enough for a tongue of fire to escape out the opening, and a low wail to be heard emanating from inside.