Smutty's One-shots

Immediately we were on him, slicing at his back and legs hard and fast. Though bullets were more effective, they were off the table with the bait in line of fire. Initially Krampus hardly seemed to notice our attacks, and he dunked the kid in the barrel of schnapps with a burbly laugh. He was trying to drown him!

Sandra, ever the quick thinker, charged at the barrel and knocked it over. The boy gasped and choked, still in Krampus’ grip, while the monster’s focus turned to Sandra. She didn’t have time to evade when he raised an immense hoof and stomped down on her chest, audibly crushing her ribs and sending bright red blood spraying like an exploding water balloon.

Tears stinging at my eyes, I radioed for a medic. Though I knew in my gut that it’d be too late, I had to try. The flood of emotions clouded my perception, and before I knew it, Krampus was bounding out the door with a soaking wet junior sociopath in his basket.

I screamed at the others, “get that kid!” Against all my training, I stayed behind and ran to kneel beside Sandra. I bent close to her and gently touched her face, afraid to move her. There was so much blood. I could see bone. “Sandra?” Was she…

To my shock, she opened her eyes, and she looked more pissed than painful. Bloody foam came out with each word, but I could still hear her, the only other sound Marilyn’s sobs. “Get. Kid. Now.”

I nodded in unhappy comprehension. If that was her last wish, I would make it happen. Without another word, I rose and ran out the door.

Luckily we had done enough damage that Krampus had left a crimson trail for me to follow. With vengeance filling me with adrenalin and impairing my judgment, I sprinted, full-bore, after that piece of shit demon. He would pay! Somehow, he would pay!

By the time I caught up with the others, acid was rising in my throat, I could barely breathe, and my legs felt like lead. They looked to me, clearly impressed I was able to catch up, but said nothing. I thanked Jules internally for convincing me to start working out and quit smoking.

Ash moved to jog beside me, “he’s slow, *huff*, we slowed him down, *huff*.” I nodded and tried to weigh our options, but the desire for retribution still distorted my thoughts. We had to get the kid, we had to make him pay. We had to get the kid, we had to-

I noticed that the blood trail was starting to taper out. Soon it would be a lot harder to track him directly, we’d have to rely on intel from the other teams and Central. I checked in with the Director; the other teams were still too far out to help.

I swallowed back the bitter taste in my mouth, stopped jogging, and made the call. The four of them noticed right away and huddled around me.“ We split up for the nearest portals. Krampus won’t go far when he’s in such rough shape, he’ll want to run home.” I gulped air, exhausted from running. “Ash and Ceese, take the Rainbow. Jake and Jinxx, take Cheetah’s. I’ll take the sign.” It might have seemed cocky to take on the furthest portal of the three on my own, but it was only logical. I was the best with knives, and guns were off the table with the kid in the basket; out of the five of us left standing, I’d fare the best on my own. When I remembered that it was more than likely also out of the five of us left alive, I choked back a sob and made my first real effort to stubbornly bury my emotions. Sandra wanted us to get that boy back. Team 5 would save that piece of shit if it were the last thing we ever did. That meant I needed a clear head.

Ceese shot me a questioning look at my hastily formulated plan, but all of them followed my lead. Within moments, ubers were conveniently routed there to pick us up. Taking an uber might not be how the layman would imagine the pursuit of an undying, supernatural evil, but anyone from L.A. knows there’s no parking regardless of how noble your cause. And, like I said, the Winter Hunt was underfunded. Thank you Trump.

Minutes later, I was tearing ass up the rough, steep terrain of Griffith Park via the Bronson Canyon entrance. As I got further up the south slope of Mount Lee, the going got more difficult. The Director reassured me that the motion detectors and security system around the HOLLYWOOD sign had been disabled; the last thing we needed was the police showing up while we were demon-chasing. There had been no trace of Krampus on satellite. That didn’t really surprise me- digital recording equipment sometimes had trouble with the supernatural.

Ash and Ceese had just radioed in that there was nothing at the Rainbow but the beer one would expect when I heard the distant sound of a bell. It was out of place in the empty park- the origin was easy to guess. I started running towards the noise as I readied my machete, “I think I’ve got him! Ash and Ceese- to me; Jake and Jinxx- target Cheetah’s.”

A couple minutes later I was approaching the restricted area around the sign and starting to get worried. I hadn’t set eyes on him yet, and the jingling of bells hadn’t been repeated. Shit. Had I been mistaken?

I was about to radio in my mistake when I caught the smell of schnapps and blood on the wind. Ah. Here we go. “Almost certain he’s here. I’ve got eyes on the sign. Jinxx, Jake- make a cursory check of Cheetah’s then get your asses over here.”

I swapped from gung-ho mode to stealth, planning to cut that fucker off at the proverbial pass. Going a short ways around while staying downwind, I made my way behind and above the sign, then over the fence into the restricted area. I jumped through the dry, winter brush, then found a solid vantage point to lay in wait behind the scaffolding for the ‘O.’ If Krampus was here, that would be where he was headed. Everyone knew that the ‘O’ of the sign had been a hotspot to and from Hell since it was restored in 1978, before I was born. I still had no idea what had happened during the renovation that had made it such a popular portal.

Turns out I had been just in time. Krampus stepped into view not five minutes after I had found my hiding place. He had bound his wounds with strips of his disgusting loincloth but he was clearly in very, very bad shape. He was dragging his hooves, snorting with the effort of each step. His hide was ragged and torn all over, revealing the purple meat beneath. Though I couldn’t see the inside of his basket and I didn’t hear any screams, I had no idea if that was good or not. The odds that Krapmus had had time to eat him or kill him seemed low, but-

A tween’s cracking voice came from the basket, “no, terrible demon. Don’t take me to Hell. I’m very scared.” Though he definitely didn’t sound scared so much as taunting, his timing sure had been good! I had to slow Krampus down until we could extract the kid to safety. Then the little freak could run on home.

Krampus’ horns still had pieces of the failed net tangled in them, and his left hoof was caught up in the stuff. The breeze blew his fetid odor towards me, and he stank of a foul mix of soot, gore, and schnapps. His left side, which had been facing our snipers, was peppered with oozing holes. When I noticed his left eye had been punctured, I thanked my lucky stars. Krampus’ sight hadn’t been good to begin with, and now he was at a considerable disadvantage until he could heal. Though I considered taking out his other eye, that was a bad idea. We wanted him to be able to go back to Hell, just empty-handed.

Now I had more of a proper plan. It was simple, which I had learned was a good thing for the Winter Hunt. Silently, I made my way to the side of the ‘O’ opposite Krampus’ bad side. Not for the first time, I was glad the HOLLYWOOD sign wasn’t lit- it would have given me away more easily.

I watched and waited for the moment I was waiting for. Slowly, so slowly, Krampus approached the giant ‘O,’ before kneeling on the ground. Clearly having trouble with only one eye, he began to trace the symbols in the dirt to open the portal. He scowled with frustration, all of his focus on the complex, layered patterns. Bingo.

Like lightning, I shot out from behind the sign and was on Krampus’ back before he knew what had hit him. Before he had a chance to rise, I stabbed him twice in the side of the neck with my Bowie knife before tossing it away. For Sandra.

With that he started bucking and roaring, trying desperately to reach me as I worked. All he managed was to lick me repeatedly. Disgusting, but I ignored it. This was quite literally not my first demonic rodeo. I could never cut the chains binding the basket to him. Instead, with my right hand I hacked desperately at the massive, wicker latch on the basket with my machete, careful to maintain a good hold on a thick chain with my left.

It seemed to take forever. Krampus screaming inarticulately, tearing at my armor, bells clanging, and my whole world shaking violently as I clung to the very chains I so hated. Every blow with the machete had to be careful and precise, but forceful. It felt like hours before I had finally landed three clean slices and the top of the basket sprung open.

The form of the kid was outlined in the moonlight, the whites of his eyes shining as he looked up at me. I chucked my machete away and used my right arm to scoop under his arms awkwardly, then released my hold on Krampus and leapt, pulling the kid out of the basket with me. I landed and rolled, holding the kid against my chest. He stank of alcohol and was unresistant in my arms.

Dumping the kid unceremoniously, I screamed at him, “Run!” before pivoting to face Krampus and reaching to rearm myself with the knives I had left. I had miscalculated, and my machete was too far off to recover. Oh well, here we go…

Gore ran freely from his face onto the ground as he stared me down with his one remaining eye. Purple blood and saliva ran down fangs and his long tongue, phlegm pulsing with each harsh breath. He pulled his whip from his hip and roared at me, an unnatural sound that brought it home to me that I was about to die. Even so, I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

I tensed, ready to charge the creature, when shots rang out, knocking he beast backwards! I couldn’t immediately identify the source so I stayed focused on Krampus. The demon stumbled, struggling to stay upright and wailing in frustration before turning back to kneel on the ground before the sign’s ‘O.’ He was giving up; he was going home!

Seeing Krampus start the second phase to open the portal (repeatedly warbling a grotesque, wordless sort of song), I risked a quick scan behind me. Ash and Ceese rose from behind some dried bushes, rifles drawn and targeting the demon. And the kid was standing behind them, appearing unharmed.

I grinned! We had won!

As the portal opened in the center of the sign’s ‘O,’ thrumming and pulsing with an unnatural light, Krampus shot us a nasty look with his single eye. Unhooking one of the Ruten from his belt, he flung it at the kid (though it fell far short) before leaping through the portal, gone until next year.

As I radioed it in, the hollowness of the victory hit me. Sandra was gone.

The Ruten had rolled to a stop a few feet to my left. I picked it up, planning to burn it rather than leave it for the sign’s custodians to have to clean. I turned to walk with Ceese and Ash down Mount Lee. I figured Central could take care of the boy; I wanted nothing more to do with him. We’d done our part. Now we needed to mourn one of our own.

Then shit got weird.

The kid blocked our path, smiling widely and pointing at the Ruten in my hands. “You don’t deserve that.” The three of us stopped, confused but mostly irritated. We had lost our friend for this son of a bitch. “You’re good boys. Good boys get gifts.”

With that, the kid grabbed the Ruten, nodded his head, and disappeared! For just an instant, a blinding, golden light flashed, leaving behind the afterimage of a tall man in a bishop’s vestments. Saint Nicholas!

Following my gut, I radioed the Director, “How is Sandra? Where’s the bait?”

He chuckled. “She’ll make it. She’s hurt, she’ll need to retire from Guardianship, but she’ll pull through.”

Ash and Ceese and I exchanged high fives, unashamed to be tearful over something so amazing and unexpected. Sandra was alive! Sandra was alive!

Over the radio, Jinxx reiterated the other question to the Director, “but where’s the kid?” After some discussion, it was revealed that, somehow, the kid had never been picked up. He was still sitting at home.

We were standing, facing each other and grinning like fools over our own, special, holiday miracle, when Jake piped in over the radio, “Hey Andy.”

“Yeah?” I could hear the music of Cheetah’s in the background if I listened carefully.

He chuckled softly, “check your watch man.”

It was only 7:45pm. I had won my bet.

Notes

Happy Holiday season to all!