The Bride Of Krampus (Yandere! Krampus x Shy & Mute OC)

I First Christmas Miracle

^^ Picture is of Sophia North... I only did the Photoshop additions to her hair and eyes, the model has all the credit for this photo. Anywho enjoy the story

It was only a few days away from Christmas, many rampant civilians trampled through the stores like madmen just to rush through the aisles and get what they desperately wanted for the holidays. In the middle of the holiday horde was a frail girl with silvery blue hair that flowed down her back, her tattered, used army jacket too thin and too big on her small frame to survive in the blistering cold of the towns winter and her sneakers only covering her heels while the rest was exposed to the biting snow. She rested her icy blue eyes on the freshly baked bread resting on cooling racks in the bakery of the grocery store; her stomach growled loudly and angrily for not having anything for the past three days, but, she knew she wouldn't get anything here -not while the holiday nightmare was going on- only to rest for a brief moment in the bakery's sitting area while tracing invisible circles along the slick wooden table.

She wrapped her arms around herself tighter from the cramps her stomach was going through, she had tried to ask for only small amounts of money just to buy food, shiver in the cold while a box rested in front of her for any kind of used clothing to protect her from the freezing wind.

Above all the things that she'd wished for Christmas as a child, she now wished she could have the ability to speak. She wished she could not be as scared as a mouse whenever someone came up to her or for her to have the bravery to ask for someone to help.

But, of course, she knew that wishes would only remain just that.

Sophia was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't see a hot bowl of soup, some bread and hot chocolate being placed in front of her by a young boy with brown curly hair and chocolate brown eyes with a smile to match the kind spark residing in his sweet brown hues; along with him, a sweet older lady sat across from her with a small smile resting on her face. "Bitte schatz Esse zu deinem Herzen Inhalt,"[Please sweetheart, eat to your hearts content.] she spoke with a gentle voice towards Sophia, the kindest gesture and act that she has ever received during the crazed holiday rush. Without hesitation, she grasped the spoon in her shaky hand and slurped the hot heavenly soup, crunched on the hearty veggies and meat that was harbored within the dark red broth; she ripped apart the large portion of the buttery bread to be able to eat heartily with her soup. As she ate half of the soup she put down the spoon and reached for the hot cocoa, smelling its sweet hot aromas before taking a small sip of the chocolatey goodness, a thin line of whipped cream resting above her lip.

The older woman's smile only widened as Sophia finished the last pieces of her given meal. She had wondered why such a frail and innocent child would be dressed so poorly in this kind of whether; she was shivering like a leaf while her eyes were decorated with dark circles and small bags under her eyes. The old woman was reminded of her childhood when she saw the poor girl sitting alone with ripped rags of clothing and barely any shoes to protect herself from being frostbitten. She new that she had to help the poor girl with a small miracle of her own.

And a hot meal would be a good place to start.

The kind old woman then looked to her once more, seeing her rosey cheeks slightly colored again and her shivers decreased greatly, though, still noticed small amounts of it still there. "War die Suppe gut?" [was the soup good?] she asked the girl once finishing the chocolatey warm drink, adding some color to the girls pale cheeks. The girl looked slightly confused as to what the sweet older woman said, she understood some parts as German -thanks to her late grandfather- but still needed help to understand what was asked until the boy responded with a perfect translation for her. The young boy introduced himself as Max Engel and the older woman to be his grandmother, or Omi as he liked to call her mostly, both only waited several minutes for her to respond before she brought out a tethered and worn out notebook with barely any wooden pencil left to write with.