Athudfrom somewhere in the cabin confirms my suspicions. Louis is here, somewhere.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. I don’t want to see him, but I need to.
It’s hard to locate the exact source of the sound, but I have a suspicion, so I head to the lounge. Just like the rest of the house, there’s no sign of the chaos that happened here last night. None of Krampus’s spilled blood or the destruction he wrought. Even the record player is back in its normal spot, intact, after being smashed. When I start it up, it begins playing “O Holy Night” again.
I return to the desk and bend down to press the button hidden on the underside. The secret door behind the bookcaseclicks open, and I follow a spiral staircase down into the panic room in the basement.
The space is small and plain compared to the rest of the house. The metal walls are lined with shelves stocked with necessities like canned food, water, and old-fashioned weaponry. My throat tightens at the sight of a crossbow, and I shift my gaze to the map of the area pinned to one wall.
Beside it, there’s also a fucking Christmas tree. Beneath the pine tree with its colorful winking lights is my tied-up fiancé, bruised and bloodied, with a gag in his mouth and a garish red bow on the top of his head.
Louis whimpers when he sees me and stops struggling. The stillness of prey when it sees a predator.
I ignore him, and take my time poking around the panic room. It’s downright cozy here, with bunk beds along one wall and a small bathroom attached. The Kohlers really were well-prepared. Just not quite prepared enough to deal withme.
On a table against one wall, I find the book that started all of this. I pause, staring at it before slowly approaching. But I no longer feel the strange pull I did last night. Still, I’m careful as I crack it open and start flipping through the pages. My eyes skim over the oldest entries, decades and decades ofKohlersmarked in ink and sealed with blood, but I slow as I reach fresher pages. Now that I know the truth, I pay particular attention to the names I don’t recognize, scrawled alongside Louis and his family. Names that never appear again. Even afterAnna Kohlershows up, there are others.
“I’m not the first one you did this to,” I say, “am I, Louis?”
Not even close. I count them as I flip through pages. Five different women brought as sacrifices for Krampus.
My brow furrows. After my experience with Krampus, I find it difficult to believe that he would have killed those women overminor sins. Even I survived my encounter. How is it possible that Louis would have brought five women deserving death?
Then I remember a comment I overheard from Adrian:“You’ve always been picky. Hardly ever bringing girls here, and even when you do, they never come back…”
Picky, he said. Like it was Louis’s choice.
I sit cross-legged in front of Louis and pull the gag out of his mouth.
“I—” he starts immediately.
“Shh.” I press a finger to his lips, and he shuts up, his eyes wide. “I’m going to give you one chance to answer me honestly. How many girls did you bring here before me?”
He gawks at me as I remove my finger from his mouth. A swallow. His eyes dart to the ceiling as he thinks. “Five.”
As I thought. “And what happened to them, Louis?”
His eyes flicker. He opens his mouth and then shuts it. “Krampus,” he says.
“I know he didn’t kill them,” I say.
Louis lowers his head. “No. But he… he whipped them.” He licks his lips. “I… I wanted someone better. Someone purer.” His eyes flick up to me. “I thought that was you.”
I smile without humor. He thought he was better than those women, but look at him now, beaten bloody in his own family’s game. “Hilarious. But you haven’t answered the question. What happened to them?”
He shifts. Looks away. “I would drive them home and cut ties. Our lawyers handled it if they tried to tell anyone what had happened. Not that anyone would believe them…”
So he left them with the scars and trauma. That sounds about right. But as a seasoned liar myself, I smell something off. “So all of them lived?”
He hesitates. “One of them…”
“One of themwhat, Louis? You know I can just leave you here to starve if I’m not satisfied by your answer, right? Nobody’s going to come looking for you out here.” I lower my voice, softening my expression. “I just want the truth. Then I’ll let you go.”
Louis shuts his eyes. “One of them froze to death. But I didn’t kill her, I swear.”
I remember how it felt when he dragged me into the snow. When his family locked the door. “You left her to die.”
His silence is all the answer I need.
