“Krampus was in a rush,” I said, my voice quiet as I took in the scene.
Victor nodded, his arms crossed as he surveyed the body. “I agree.”
Eve stepped closer, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. “Why change his M.O. now?” she asked, glancing at me.
“Maybe he has a schedule to keep,” Nishi said, her tone dry as she leaned against a shelf.
“Yeah,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes as I studied the body. “And I want to make sure he misses his next appointment.”
Aurora crouched beside the man, tilting her head as she inspected him more closely. Her gaze swept over his features before moving to the scattered contents of a bag near his feet. “This isn’t the shopkeeper,” she said, glancing up at Victor.
Victor nodded grimly. “You’re right. This guy slipped in through the back. He has a candle in his bag and two toys. We think he was stealing them. But he didn’t touch the cash register, which is… odd.”
“Shop owner?” Tegan asked.
“In the smoking area near the forest,” Victor explained. “Forgot to lock the back door.”
I exhaled sharply, glancing at the stolen items in the bag. “So Krampus caught a thief in the act, decided it was worth stopping, and skipped his usual punishments.”
“Which means he’s losing focus,” Eve said, her brow furrowed. “Or he’s discarded Dagna’s plan and has his own agenda.”
“Either way,” I said, my voice tight, “we need to figure out where he’s heading next. Because if this was him in a rush, we can’t afford to find out what he’ll do when he’s got more time.”
Victor’s phone beeped, cutting through the uneasy quiet of the shop. He pulled it out, his face tightening as he glanced at the screen. After a moment, he let out a long sigh, shaking his head. “Damn.”
“What is it?” I asked, already bracing for whatever bad news he was about to share.
Victor slid the phone back into his pocket. “We got his prints back. He has no criminal record. But he recently lost his job as a security guard due to budget cuts.” His voice was unwavering, but I could hear the frustration beneath it.
I crouched beside the man’s bag, reaching in to pull out the Barbie doll nestled against the stolen candle. Turning it over in my hands, I exhaled slowly. “The guy lost his job,” I said, my voice quieter now. “He wasn’t some career thief. He probably took the toys for his kid. And the candle…” I turned it over in my hand, feeling the smooth wax under my fingers. “Probably for his wife. He didn’t touch the cash register because he never intended to.”
Victor nodded, his expression grim. The others fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
I stood, gripping the Barbie tightly in my hand as anger bubbled up in my chest. “Krampus doesn’t care,” I said, my voice cutting through the still air. “He’ll look for any excuse to kill. A man down on his luck, trying to give his family a Christmas? That’s all this was.”
My free hand curled into a fist at my side as I glared at the lifeless body, the rage simmering just beneath the surface. “He doesn’t just punish the guilty. He punishes the desperate. And Dagna unleashed him here like it’s some kind of game.”
“Because to her, it is,” Victor said quietly, his tone laced with disgust. “But to him? It’s a hunt.”
“And we’re going to stop him,” I said firmly, setting the Barbie down on a shelf with a soft thud. “Before he turns this whole town into his playground.”
A scream pierced through the air, severe and chilling, cutting straight through the thick tension inside the shop. My heart seized, and without a second thought, I bolted toward the door, my boots pounding against the floor as I ran. The others called after me, but their voices barely registered over the blood rushing in my ears.
Outside, the night felt colder, sharper, as though the scream had stolen the warmth from the air. I scanned the street, my breath coming in quick bursts, until I spotted a commotion near the ice rink. A crowd had gathered, forming a tight, shifting ring around the edge of the rink, their murmurs blending into a low hum of concern.
I pushed through the crowd, weaving between worried faces and craning necks. “Excuse me,” I muttered, shoving past a couple who were clutching steaming cups of cocoa. My pulse quickened as I reached the center of the chaos, bracing myself for whatever horror Krampus had left behind this time.
But it wasn’t a demon I found—it was a boy, no older than eight, cradled in his mother’s arms. His face was streaked with tears, his small hands clutching at her coat as he sobbed. Blood dripped from a deep cut on his leg, staining the ice beneath them, his skate lying discarded to the side.
The mother’s face was pale with worry as she rocked him, whispering softly to calm him down. The boy clung to her,his cries muffled against her shoulder. My chest tightened as I watched the scene, the tension slowly melting into something closer to relief.
I glanced up as a man with a first-aid kit threaded his way through the crowd, his expression calm and focused. He knelt beside the boy and his mother before he opened the kit and pulled out gauze as he began to assess the wound.
I stepped back, turning to see the others standing at the crowd’s edge. Their faces were tense as they waited for me, and I shook my head as I approached.
“It’s just a boy who fell and cut himself,” I said softly, the weight of the moment still pressing on my chest.
Aurora let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah,” she said, her voice low, “but Krampus has us on edge. We’re jumping at the slightest flicker of danger.”
