“Ope, we have one more!” Anders says, clapping. “Merry Christmas, Krampus.”
From the left of the room, a large . . . creature appears. Both Locke and I leap to our feet, our weapons in our hands instantly. I’m not sure what we can do. We can’t stab the creature without repercussions from the safehouse, but this thing is large.
He’s covered in fur from head to toe. Funny enough, he doesn’t have toes. He has hooves that he carefully clomps in on some sort of creature type legs. There are horns sprouting from his head that curl up and back. He’s completely black and he’s so tall, his horns scrap the ceiling.
“Sit down,” Anders orders us. “He may look scary, but he isn’t going to hurt you.”
Krampus is carrying a large sack on his shoulder as he walks in. He drops it on the ground with a thud before he takes a seat across from us. His large black eyes take me in first before looking over at Locke. Whatever he sees doesn’t seem to please him. The sound of gentle crying coming from the sack contradicts Anders’ words.
“Uh . . .” Locke says, staring at Krampus.
“Merry Christmas,” Krampus says. I’d expected his voice to be deep and burly. What I don’t expect is the very high-pitched, nasally voice that comes from his lips. “We opening gifts, or what?”
“Are you a player?” I ask, confused. I’ve seen Luxe Guards who have wings or other strange modifiers. I’ve never seen one look quite so . . . monstrous.
Krampus meets my eyes. At least, I think he meets my eyes. There’s no way to be certain. The entirety of his eye is black. No pupil. Only the shine of the bright light strands reflecting in them.
“Do I look like a player, Snitzel?”
“So . . . you’re an NPC?” I press.
The cries from the sack get louder and it starts to move, something in the bag squirming. I reach over and touch Locke’s leg. Anders doesn’t miss the action.
“Open your presents,” Krampus says instead of answers. “Santa gives the best presents.”
Part of me wants to just throw the presents at them and run away. With this beast of an NPC sitting threateningly across from us and Steve, the biblically accurate Ophanim, glitching between fast rotations and slow, the aura in the room feels so heavy, I could choke on it. What exactly is happening here? And why is every single eye on me?
I pick up the gift on top and slowly tear the metallic paper off. Inside is a box. When I open it, I find a small Christmas ball inside. When I pick it up, my menu opens.
BAUBLE BOMB; RARE ITEM
This festive ornament can be thrown, causing each creature within a three-meter distance to take damage. Christmas this year is positively explosive!
My brows shoot up. “Wow. Thank you, Anders.”
“I didn’t get it for you,” Anders says, shaking his head. “Santa brings the gifts. Not me.”
Somehow, that feels like a lie, especially since I’d watched him procure a present for Svetlana out of nowhere, or better described as his pocket.
Locke grabs one of his two presents and tears it open with more gusto than I expect. When he opens the box and frowns, I lean over to get a look. He picks it up and reveals a sprig of green leaves with three tiny red berries on it.
“Mistletoe, common item,” he reads from his menu. “Now kiss. You know you want to.” He glances at me and the item disappears in his inventory. “Okay then.”
Svetlana slices her package apart and rips the small box open. She stares at the pair of socks that clearly were made for a human and not a praying mantis when they fall from the package. She looks at them in disgust before glancing up at Anders. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Anders’ eye twitches. I almost miss it. I would have had I not been looking at him. “You’re not being ungrateful, are you, Svetlana?”
“Ungrateful about a gift that is not made for me?” she says, tilting her head. When she looks at me, I know she understands the situation a little more clearly. “Of course not,” she lies. “I love them.”
Anders nods. “Now you again, Vesper.”
I pick up the second gift and unwrap it. This time, when I open the box, I don’t immediately pick up the item. I stare at it where it rests in the large box. Surprisingly, I know what it is. I close the box.
“What is it?” Locke asks.
“Nothing,” I murmur, setting it aside.
“Hold it up!” Anders says gleefully. “We all want to see.”
