Krampus Cheer

CHAPTER 2

The smell of peppermint cookies permeated the air.

The wooden door opened with a loud bang as Krampus sighed deeply. His black, beefy chest was covered in snow and blood. He hung his snow-drenched red coat over the roaring fireplace in the living room. Where two green recliners stood on opposite ends, seating Mr. and Mrs. Clause.

The Messiah- And the Glory of the Lord played softly on the radio, along with a home decorated with Christmas lights and statues.

He lumbered to the bathroom, throwing hot water on his face, and took a deep breath. His tail hung tiredly behind his furry, muscular legs.

"HO! Hey Krampus! How are ya, buddy? Cold out there, huh?" shouted the jolly man in red sitting at the kitchen table, reading texts on his cellphone. He donned red pants and a green sweater with his trademark white beard and glasses.

Like a moody teenager, the anthropomorphic goat merely grumbled as he went to the clear, expensive cabinet in Santa's kitchen and poured himself a glass of rum and coke.

"Feeling okay?" Santa put his phone away, looking at his employee with concern.

"Shut up." Krampus mumbled, heading to the living room, which held a beautiful couch and a flat screen TV.

"Krampus. You can tell me anything." The fat man slowly got up from his chair and leaned against the doorframe of the living room, arms crossed like a concerned father. His belly was rounded and noticeable. Red suspenders held up his pants.

Krampus sipped his drink, flicking the TV on to hardcore porn, just to make Santa wince.

Grabbing the remote, St. Nick swiftly turned off the moaning woman with huge breasts lying on an enormous bed with a muscular man over her. "You didn't kill any kids, did you?" The old man sighed, stepping in front of the goat who sat, legs spread lazily. "You know you're only supposed to teach them lessons, right?"

"I'm just tired, okay? Tired of trudging through snow, tired of whipping. Tired of being out late. I get no respect." He took sips of his strong, warm drink.

"You're my most dedicated worker. Even more than Rudolph, who shows up late half the time. You do the work no one wants to do." Cringle assured him, sitting by the much taller beast. "I mean come on. You're the demon of Christmas. Not like kids are gonna be rushing to sit on your lap." Chuckled Santa.

"Last thing I want is little morons hugging me. I want love. I guess."

Santa wrapped his arms around Krampus. The beast flinched. "Hate to tell you, Kramp. You've got one more kid to deal with." The old man nodded. "After, I'll let you go wherever you want. I won't tell the wife you're out partying."

"Promise?" The goat asked, standing up, a tinge of hope in his voice. Barely noticeable but Santa noticed it. After thousands of years, the bearded man could read his demonic employee like a book.

"Promise, pal. I'll even drop you off on my way to delivering gifts. Since you've had a rough night." Santa smiled, gathering his magic bag of toys and trademark jacket and boots.