Blood For Santa: Day 4

 

Christmas Eve has arrived. That's exciting news for boys and girls all across the world. Children everywhere are rapidly unraveling as they compulsively stare at their festive holiday-themed clocks which slowly tick away the seconds until the big event, sweat dripping from their foreheads into their bulging, bloodshot eyes. How are they ever going to get to sleep knowing that The Red One is coming?

For most, Christmas is a time of joy and celebration. But most forget about Krampus.

Do you know about Krampus? He's the Yule Lord, sinister counterpart to jolly ol' Saint Nick, the benevolent gift giver's twisted shadow. Santa Claus rewards good boys and girls with shiny new toys, but Krampus delivers lumps of coal to naughty children. Some of them. For others, he delivers a more severe punishment in the form of a brisk beating with a birch tree branch. And for especially bad kiddies, he just gathers them up in his sack and drags them to Hell. What fun!

Children in the United States have no real concept of Krampus, because the Christmas holiday has been whitewashed, picked clean of all potentially frightening elements. Our children are weak and unprepared for the likes of Krampus, and this is a dangerous thing. They don't know that the man-goat lurks in the shadow of Santa's gift-laden sleigh, ready to punish any child who break the rules.

I think if more of this country's kids knew about Krampus, they'd be more liable to behave. It's not enough to say that your son won't get any presents for Christmas if he doesn't stop trying to push his little sister down the stairs. Tell him Krampus will steal him away from his warm bed and deliver him to the Lord Of The Flies if he doesn't straighten up. Tell him that neither mommy nor daddy can do anything to save him if he crosses the dread Pelzebock, and only he can ensure that his own behavior doesn't lead the terrified lad to an eternity writhing in hellfire.

No child would dare risk the wrath of mighty Krampus. We would have a nation of Stepford Children, too frightened of the horned one and his ruten to step out of line.

Tonight, when you tuck your cherubic little children into their cozy little beds, remind them of the cruel beast-man that also travels the world on this magical night. Open the curtains on the bedside window and point out what may or not be a series of hoof prints in the freshly fallen snow. Ask them if they smell the faint odor of brimstone carrying on the crisp winter breeze. Did they hear that? It sounded like the crack of a tree branch, perhaps the cries of a struggle and the rustling of a burlap sack.

Maybe little Timmy down the street won't be back at school in January. And if you're not good next year, you may find out where that little troublemaker went. Then wish them a merry Christmas, steal their nightlight, and close the door. It'll certainly make for an interesting Christmas morning.

Guess what? Podcast!

Lies My Podcast Told Me returns today with its eighteenth episode, entitled A Silver Fox (In A Sun Hat). This installment is all about Hawaii, which fits right in with the holiday theme. Once upon a time, my cousin Ky spent a great deal of time in this island paradise, and he returned with many fascinating stories to tell. This episode represents one of those stories, and a particularly memorable one at that. It involves a missing lighter, a nude beach, and a mysterious guitar player. That's all I'm going to say on the subject. Just listen:

Chapter 18: A Silver Fox (In A Sun Hat)



Tomorrow this nightmare concludes. Until then, keep your eyes peeled for a demonic figure carrying a particularly large (and possibly squirming) sack over its shoulder. And if you do see this creature, offer it a cold beer, for goodness sake.

Child snatching is thirsty work.