Krampus

Chapter Nineteen Yuletide

BOONE COUNTY, WEST VIRGINIA

One year later

The night before Christmas

Excerpt from the Boone Standard, December 24

by Contributing Editor Bill Harris

Nashville up-and-comer Jesse Walker played to a packed house Saturday night, headlining the first-ever annual Krampus Festival held at Horton’s out on Route 3, near Orgas. Horton White, the proprietor of Horton’s and festival organizer, says that the festival is a celebration of Winter Solstice and ancient Yuletide traditions. Participants engaged in folk dancing, body-painting, chanting and drum circles, with the highlight of the evening being the massive Yule Log bonfire. Prizes were awarded for best costumes. Activities continued on well into the morning hours.

The festival was not without controversy, as the sheriff’s office received several complaints claiming a group of intoxicated revelers dressed in furs, wearing chains, bells, and horned masks, arrived in town and chased bystanders with switches. Sheriff Wright confirmed reports of public intoxication and nudity, but stated rumors of deputies joining in on the festivities are greatly exaggerated. Reverend Owen condemned the event, calling the festival a sinful and shameful display of pagan heathenism and a pathway to eternal damnation. He warned that all God-fearing Christians should stay away.

The Krampus Festival is just the latest in the growing local fascination with the little before known mythical spirit of Krampus. Ever since the notorious and as-yet-unexplained incidents of last Christmas season, interest has spread statewide. But Boone County has all but claimed Krampus as their own, with souvenirs of the devilish character to be found in most local gift shops, including switches, cheap knock-offs of those infamous triangular gold coins, and T-shirts and mugs sporting cartoons of the fiendish Krampus, bearing such notable taglines as “I Believe in Krampus” and “Krampus Is Coming to Town.”

Heavy clouds rolled across the hills as twilight turned to night. A string of Christmas lights came to life, blinking along the gutters of a small ranch home on the edge of town. A boy of about ten and his little sister, no more than eight, came out onto their porch. Their mother came along with them. The children each held a pair of old shoes and carried a sack of candies. They set the shoes on the step and carefully arranged the candy.

When they were done, the boy looked up at his mom. “You think Krampus will really come?”

“Might,” she replied. “Might not. That’s what they say. Right?”

The children nodded.

“Josh,” the boy said. “He said that Krampus came to his house last year, said he actually saw him.”

“Yep,” the little girl added. “So did Charles. Susie said she saw him, too, but I don’t believe her. She’s a big fibber. But I believe Charles, because he had one of them funny gold coins.”

“Yeah,” the boy said excitedly. “So did Josh! He brought his to school and I actually got to hold it.” He looked up at his mother again. “Mom, do you believe Krampus is real?”

“Well, it don’t hurt none to believe. Now does it?”

“Nope, but it might not to. Josh said if you don’t put out candy, Krampus will put you in his sack and give you a beating.”

“Yeah,” the girl said. “All the kids at my school said they were putting out candy, y’know . . . just in case.”

Their mother grinned. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re putting out candy then. Wouldn’t want either one of my children to get put in a sack and beat silly.”

“I think he’s real,” the boy said.

“Me, too,” the girl agreed.

“Well,” the mom said. “If enough folks believe in a thing, I guess it becomes real enough. Don’t it?”

THE SNOW FELL the whole night long that Christmas Eve, fell all across Boone County, across Goodhope and the surrounding hills. The snow blew about the entrance of a small cave cut into the rugged mountainside, swirled inside, and a few flakes even drifted far back to a mound of rocks surrounded by dried mistletoe.

From beneath the rocks came the sound of laughter, at first as light as a whisper, but as it grew in volume a small patch of snow about the entrance of the cave began to melt. A single flower poked its head up through the winter snow. The flower bloomed, fluttering to some unheard pulse, and the laughter swelled, deep and booming, echoing out from the cave. The wind and snow carried the sound down the valley and there were those the next morning who swore they heard it, swore it was Krampus, the Yule Lord. And they told their children they better be good, because Krampus . . . Krampus is coming to town.