“We’re supposed to meet some people,” Henry says, taking a step toward the door. “In the village. So. We should go.”
“If you’re going to play, did you want a mask?” Wilhelm asks, gesturing toward his morbid collection with the point of his newly sharpened knife.
“Thanks for the offer, sir,” Henry says. “But I don’t think so. Not one of these.”
“Creepy mask seller is creepy.” Henry’s walking too fast for me to keep up.
“Your legs are longer than mine. Slow down.” I catch him and tuck my hand in the crook of his arm.
“Did the concierge send us there as a joke? I feel like I’m in a horror movie.” He tightens his arm around mine and imitates a movie trailer voice-over. “Innocent tourists led to the slaughter in a snowbound paradise. The demon must be fed! Rated R for sexual situations and nudity.”
“You wish.”
“Yes, I do.”
I let go of his arm, and we crest the hill that leads to the pub just as the sun sinks behind the mountains.
We step into the warmth to find it more crowded than the night before. Several people have masks, but nothing like what we saw at the shop today. Less demon from hell, more Oscar the Grouch.
There’s a girl behind the bar instead of Kit. I think he’s bailed on me until he and Elke walk through the front door. Button Nose is missing.
“Hey! Where’s your friend?” I ask.
“Hi.” Kit slides his arm around my waist and pulls me close to his side. “She didn’t want to be a tagalong.”
I nod and put a half inch of space between us. Fifth wheel is always a bummer, but her absence has left us in the most awkward situation: an unintended double date.
We head toward the same table as the night before. Elke must be a regular, because even though the place is packed, the booth is empty. We’re getting ready to sit when the murmur starts at the front of the pub.
The sounds are more menacing tonight. The crowd is a little slower to move toward the door, and some don’t get up at all. Kit and Elke have an easy task as they lead us outside.
The masks we saw at Wilhelm’s shop are baby toys compared to what we see now.
There are at least twenty Krampus trolling the crowd, wielding whips as well as switches. They have heavy chains, too, and they slam them repeatedly against the cobblestone streets.
A lone, piercing howl, full of malice, bounces off the sides of the dark stone exteriors of the buildings in the town center. I move closer to Kit. I really want to be close to Henry.
The crowd dances around the monsters in spite of the terrifying masks, laughing, flirting, even bending over to receive spankings from switches. I don’t understand the lack of terror. The people in the street must be loaded.
“This looks nothing like the brochure,” I yell to Kit over the crowd. “Nothing like last night at all.”
“No,” Kit yells back, holding on to my arm tightly as we move toward the street. “And this isn’t even the real thing. Krampus uses the walk as a distraction to pick off one or two victims for his dinner.”
“Stop messing around.” I fight a full-body shiver. “It’s not funny anymore.”
He smiles.
As we get closer to the action, I see that the monster’s skin colors range from moonlight to crimson to ebony. They all have glowing yellow eyes. They’re adorned in clothing made of animal pelts, and claws extend from their fingers and toes.
Kit lets me go and I’m sucked into the center of the action. Their furs stink of death and rot. Most all of the figures have thick limbs and yellow nails in the beginning stages of curling into claws. If these are the fakes, I don’t want to get anywhere near the real thing.
I’m losing my mind. Monsters aren’t real.
They form a ring around me, and I lose track of Kit.
The slamming of the chains against the cobblestones becomes a song, and their movements become a dance. I can hear low grunts issuing from their throats. I am jostled and shaken and almost knocked down, and my heart beats with desperation. I want out. And I can’t get out.
I’m halfway to a panic attack when I bounce off Henry’s shoulder.
I grab the front of his coat. “Henry! What the hell is going on?”
Around us, the Krampus continue their dance. The circle closes, tighter and tighter.
“Elke disappeared.” He takes my hand and holds it tightly, as if he’s making sure he won’t lose me. “I think they’re playing a joke on the gullible tourists.”
I take stock of our surroundings. The crowd has surged away from the pub, and I’ve been too busy looking for rescue to notice which direction. “Where are we?”
“Look!” Henry waves his free arm. “Over there.”
Relief is sweet. Kit and Elke.
As we push through the crowd of monsters, I realize how incredibly fast they move. Their horns are razor sharp, and every beast holds a wicked-looking stick in addition to the rusty chains.
I look toward Kit again and see that he and Elke have their arms wrapped around each other. And not in a friendly way.
“Henry.”
We’ve fallen into a ridiculous trap. Whether the monsters we see are real or the plot of ill-intentioned humans, we’re in trouble.
“I see them.” He grunts in frustration. “We can switch dates and kick ass when we get out of here. But let’s just concentrate on actually getting out.”
Miraculously, he finds a way through the chaos.
We run hand in hand, and Henry jerks me into an alley. I try to catch my breath and figure out where we are. I don’t think we’re in the town center anymore.
“Why would they do that to us?” Henry looks up and down the street while I lean over to relace my boots. “Just for a sick joke? Is this how they treat tourists? Henry?”
I turn around.
Krampus.
What I would’ve thought was a mask five seconds ago has become skin. Strings of saliva pool around teeth attached to red gums. A long tongue leads to a wide-open mouth and gullet.
The smell is like being locked in a hot car with pounds of rotted meat packed around you. And he’s holding an empty sack.
“We’re going to die,” I say, grabbing Henry’s arm and backing up. The monster does nothing. Just stares.
“Don’t say that.” I’ve never heard Henry so scared.
“You’re my best friend.”
“Don’t do the whole last-words thing, Bex.” Henry pulls me behind him, putting himself between the monster and me. “We could be hallucinating.”
The monster roars so loud, it blows our hair back.
“Listen to me.” Tears form, but I swipe them away before they roll down my cheeks. “I have to say this. I’ve played so many stupid games.”
“We both have.”
The monster is starting toward us now.
“I love you, Henry. I’m in love with you.”
“I love you back. Even after you peed in your pants.” He stumbles over a piece of trash. Krampus stills and tilts his head to the side.
I steady Henry. The end of the alley is so dark. Stacks of wooden crates lean perilously against the wall. No one can see us from the street. Krampus just has to knock us out, stuff us in his sack, and then blend in with the crowd until it’s time to go home.
If a lair is considered a home, rather than a place to cook people for Christmas dinner.
“The next time we want to fight our feelings for each other, let’s do it in our own backyard instead of crossing several time zones and into the Twilight Zone?” Henry sounds hopeful.
“The next time?” I bark a harsh laugh. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re about to be dinner.”
Krampus takes two huge steps forward.