KRAMPUS KEEP
Lair of the Goatbeast
Enter Ricven and the Three Elves of Christmas Hands
The maniacal cackle of Krampus sounded like a lunatic goat-man of dark fur with coal-black horns and laughed like a jackal. If one such as yourself could put words into sound. And hear the irritating laughter hailing from the throat of some hairy goat-man demon hybrid that very much could pass as the Jeepers Creepers of Christmas horrors. Then chances are, you just might be batshit crazy your damn self.
"It's been a while there since you've gotten your ass beaten good, eh, Santa Hog?!"
Insulting to no end, Krampus jumped into the air; his powerful goat legs sent him whipping a big squirming sack that groaned and raged with pain and spite. The groan was more like a howl, though. A hardy howl. The kind that sounded like somebody smacked the shit out of Santa with a hardwood two-by-four.
Santa may have wished that it was a long piece of thick wood (now that I think about it, that did not come out well. Fuck it), for Krampus' merciless tail felt like a killer whip that no safeword could be better used to remedy the scar one was left with it.
The beating continued until Krampus granted Santa a break. But not before hitting him one more time. Another good whip to the sack that trapped the Santa Claus.
"You promised me! The naughty face misfortune while the good and wholesome rejoice in joy and merriment come this Christmas. But no. Giving the naughty a chance at Christmas goodness?!" Krampus snarled. "Insane!"
"Children deserve a good Christmas," said Santa. "Their minds know no better. Who are we to judge the chidren when it is ourselves who should be ultimately judged?"
"Because all mischief should be judged!" Krampus leaped up to whip Santa again. "The adults get their up and comings. The same must be done for their offspring. Apples never fall far from the tree. If the little shits continue, they will know no morals and do as they please. Too much freedom brings chaos. I exist to keep them crotch goblins in line!"
The Claus himself struggled out a few pain-induced words. "Mischief? Too much freedom? How about— You let me down, and I'll give you a free lesson in the meaning of mischief!"
Krampus chuckled. That crazy laugh plunged into a deep, sinister snicker. "You think I'm that stupid? You're a fool to feed into that. And I should know. I feed on the flesh and bones of children, after all!"
It got real quiet in that Santa sack. Krampus's violence pumped the breaks as confusion and concern took the wheel. The creepy goat-mongrel leaned in to hear if Santa still breathed, seeking some kind of movement. He brought his ear to the sack.
A laughing storm of Ho Ho Ho's crashed into Krampus, throwing him back in shock, irritation, and a little bit of pee. Krampus actually thought that Santa was about to bust out of his bag for but a second. Krampus almost wanted to crack Santa's skull, but he needed the fat man alive.
"Laugh. For now that I give you joy, it shall all be taken away from you soon, as the tears of many children far and wide will fill my mug as I feast upon their fresh, succulent—"
"You're still on with that empty threat?!" Santa kept on laughing and ho ho'ing, in pain. "Oh, Krampy—! Everyone knows that you're a vegan!"
Krampus' left eye twitched with embarrassment. It was about to get a whole lot more embarrassing from here on out.
"Somebody spread me a line of fairy dust so I can snort it off of a unicorn's ass—Krampus is vegan?!" Ricven shouted.
Nearly skittish, Krampus spun around to face Ricven and the three elves covered in the blood and guts of the slain. The elf with the most jewelry on him took two quick jingly steps forward, half-desperate to liberate Santa, though common sense phoned in, saving his ass from potential doom.
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FantasiWARNING! This novel is an unconventional work of fiction. Anything you may read in the following episodes is solely created out of sheer satirical coincidence and is NOT to be taken out of ANY context OTHER than it being RIDICULOUSLY entertaining as...
