"Nothing evil happens on Christmas, right?" Buffy asked as she toted in her last haul of Christmas presents. "I mean it hasn't in the four years I've been here, so far. Not on the day, anyway. Is it like a Halloween thing? Where even evil takes a day off?"
Rupert Giles guided her to his carefully chosen Christmas tree, then knelt on the floor and helped place the presents underneath in an orderly manner. He performed a quick, cursory delve into his memory banks of demons who were active on Christmas and came up . . . empty. "Not that I know of," he replied, taking one of Buffy's presents and hearing liquid sloshing within. Inspecting the nametag, he smiled when he saw his own. It looked like he was going to add to his liquor cabinet. Excellent. "Odd though it may be, I think some demons practice the exchange of gifts as well. Though I imagine the contents of those gifts are drastically different from our own. At least, I hope."
"Oh darn," Buffy snapped her fingers. "You figured me out. I got you the bottled soul of a virgin." She pushed herself up. "Where did Xander and Willow go? I thought we were all bunking here for the Eve of Christmas."
"They should be here shortly," Giles checked his watch. "They ran off to procure some snacks. Apparently, mine were . . . lacking." He sniffed at that. His imported Lovehearts were not disgusting! They were a staple in his Christmas celebrations. And just because he didn't have potato chips lying about . . . honestly.
Buffy turned on the TV, plopping down onto the sofa and lounging. Xander and Willow arrived not long after, toting bags of terrible snacks and unhealthy food. "Buffster!" Xander exclaimed, dropping the bags onto the counter unceremoniously and jumping onto the sofa beside her. "Merry Christmas! So, how many presents did you get me?" he asked, eyeing the pile under the tree hungrily.
"Right to the dirty, huh? You'll find out tomorrow morning," Buffy told him.
Willow joined them, squeezing onto the sofa with them. "Since I'm the best friend, it only makes sense that I got the most presents," she said. "Right, Buffy?" she slung her arm over the Slayer's shoulders. "And the fact that I'm Jewish and am breaking all sorts of rules set by my parents to celebrate with you all tonight, obviously means I should be laden with gifts as well."
"I am suddenly starting to feel the pressure of every parent at every Christmas ever," Buffy snorted.
Giles watched them, amused. His three unofficial children. Each one was utterly ridiculous in their own way. He held a fondness for them all. Yes, even Xander . . . at times. Settling into his armchair, he cleared his throat. "I-I . . . thought we might do a bit of caroling later," he suggested. "I've picked out—"
"And on this warm Christmas Eve, we want to remind everyone to take the necessary precautions this evening," the news report broke through all conversation. "As we all know, this marks the fifth year of the Christmas Killer's attacks. The police have been—as of yet—unable to catch him, or even identify a suspect. So, while you watch your Christmas movies and spread that Christmas spirit, please just remember to keep an eye on one another, and to report any suspicious behavior immediately to the police. Have a good night, Sunnydale, and Merry Christmas."
The report ended, and the four of them stared at one another. "So, research?" Willow asked.
"The reports are everywhere," Willow said, looking through the computer. "Not just in Sunnydale either. All over the world." They crowded around her. "And the reports go back . . . for as long as someone's been reporting."
"And it's the same case each time," Buffy said, her brow furrowed. "The parents wake up and find the child has been missing. No signs of a struggle. No break-ins. It's as if they've vanished in thin air."
Xander scratched his head, looking over at them. "I'm just going to point out the obvious here. A lot of these kidnappings . . . they happen all across the world . . . on the same night. It's either multiple people, or—"
"A demon," Giles finished. He remained on the sofa, a book in his hands. It was one of fairytales. They had used it earlier to battle against The Gentlemen. Now, it seemed they were up against another fable. He cleared his throat and stood. The others immediately took the sofa instead, listening. "It's Krampus." The three of them sniggered at the name. "I wouldn't laugh. Krampus is an ancient demon. Perhaps one of the first ever created." Giles rubbed the back of his neck, feeling very tired. This was going to be a hell of a fight. "In Austro-Bavarian Alpine folklore, Krampus is mentioned frequently. They write him as the nemesis of Saint Nicholas. The . . . anti-Santa, if you will. Where Santa Claus rewards well-mannered children with gifts, Krampus punishes wicked children. The origin of the tale begins here, but it has been recorded by other cultures throughout time."
"Get to the good part, Giles," Buffy said. "Where is he, and how do I kill him?"
"W-well," Giles scratched his forehead, "he resides in his Hell dimension most of the time. Save for one night of the year . . ."
"Lemme guess . . . it's not Kwanza," said Xander.
"Quite. In the early mornings of December 25th, Krampus reportedly opens a portal to this world. Though I'm not sure if it's true or not, he takes the children who have misbehaved the most and . . . brings them to his Hell Dimension. Reportedly to . . . eat them and trap their souls in his Hell dimension. It grants him immortality . . . but only so long as he steals enough children." Now, to the tricky part. "Baiting him is near impossible, but—"
"Someone needs to misbehave," Buffy answered.
"You mean like . . . drink a bunch of alcohol, make hit up a strip club and graffiti someone's house?" Xander asked. "I volunteer!" he shot his hand up.
Giles gave him a withering look, closing the book with a loud SNAP! "If we want to appeal to Krampus, we need to use someone who has otherwise been pure . . . quite behaved for most of their life. The sudden change will interest Krampus . . ." he drifted off, and all eyes turned to Willow.
"M-Me?" Willow cast them an anxious look. "Oh boy."
Giles parked his car outside of the unsuspecting victim's house. Buffy sat in the passenger's seat, and she turned to look at Xander and Willow in the backseat. "You ready, Will?" she asked her.
He looked back at her as well. Willow was giving them an uneasy look. "I mean . . . but they've never done anything bad to me. I don't feel right—"
"That's good, Willow. We need you to do wrong now," Xander said, patting her hand. "And all we're doing is egging the house. Not robbing them or anything."
"Though burglary would likely catch Krampus' attention quite quickly," Giles murmured. "But this . . . is a start. Go on," he urged them. They opened their doors and grabbed their baskets of eggs. Willow walked after them, her shoulders slumped. Giles' heart went out to her. Willow was at her very core, a good girl. There wasn't a true evil bone in her body, and he quite appreciated that about Willow. Her simple goodness had a quality of pureness to it. Someone with a dark past like himself found the light she gave to be healing. This experience wouldn't taint her . . . he hoped.
Willow reached into her basket, holding the egg in her hand. She hesitated. Giles could see the tension running through her. Finally, she lifted her arm and threw the egg at the house. It splattered right across the siding. The others threw their eggs afterwards, spurring her on. Willow threw a few more . . . and even started to laugh after awhile. All of a sudden, a light turned on. "Retreat!" Giles shouted at them. "Get back in!" They bolted for the car, diving in. Just as the front door was opening, Giles stomped his foot on his car's gas petal, and they lurched forward down the road. The teenagers laughed, relief obvious that they hadn't been caught.
"Okay, so," Willow wiped her eye, "that was actually kind of fun. What do we do next?"
Their next stop led them to the main campus of University of Sunnydale. After sneaking along the grass, they took out their paint cans and defaced school property. Willow spray-painting mathematical equations against some windows. Xander was spray-painting the standard penises. Buffy was drawing peace signs and crosses. Giles, feeling quite like he had taken a trip back to his Ripper days, was attempting to recreate The Creation of Adam famously painted by Michelangelo. It was atrocious. Spray paint hardly had the same effect as wet plaster.
"Oh man, we should have done this ages ago at the high school!" Willow said, examining their work. "Let's go do something else! Why don't we find some books and rip them up!?" Giles gave her a wounded look, and she quickly shook her head. "Whoa. Evil is powerful and seductive. No wonder Darth Vader fell in so hard."
"I . . . I think we've done enough," Giles said. Talk of ripping books had nearly given him a heart attack. "I suggest we return home and await to see if Krampus stops by. He prefers to use the chimney, so we might be able to set some sort of trap." They returned to the car, Willow slumping behind. Giles drove them back to his home, and they prepared a few traps. Giles wasn't entirely sure what could kill Krampus. He was, after all, an ancient demon. Surely he had faced Slayers and others before. Yet, he still lived. It was an anxious thought.
As time ticked by, they decided all they could do was wait. Willow slept on the sofa, the closest to the fireplace. Giles rested in his bed in the loft above, able to see below quite easily. Buffy and Xander lay in wait in the kitchen, hunkered down behind the counter. They waited . . . and waited. Hours went by and nothing stirred, not even a mouse. But then . . . all of a sudden . . . there arose such a clatter. A scraping sound came from the fireplace. Giles, who had nearly fallen asleep, woke with a start and peered down. It was dark, but he could just barely make out a set of hooves sticking out of the fireplace. Giles watched the creature take one step out of the fireplace, starting to stoop, and he shouted, "NOW!"
Willow pushed the button on the remote that controlled the fireplace. It lit up, the creature lighting on fire. There was a hissing sound, but the creature came out of the fire all the same. He was hairy, and though some of his hair singed, for the most part, the fire didn't seem to irritate him and soon went out. He was a large creature. His body was rippled with muscle beneath the hair. A pointed tail was the last to come out of the fire. He was winged, the wings currently tucked in against his body. The head was large and reminiscent of a bearded goat and bull. It had large tipped horns that had obviously been the cause of the scraping sound from within the chimney. Smoke came puffing out of his nostrils. His teeth were set in a growl, long and pointed. Though he had humanoid hands, both clenched chains.
He took one quick look at the room, and when his eyes alighted on Willow, they remained. Krampus swung his arm, and the chain wrapped around Willow, locking her within its embrace. She cried out in pain and terror. Giles shot up and fired the crossbow he'd been holding. The bolt pierced through the Krampus' shoulder, embedding deep. Though the Krampus grunted in pain, he merely tugged the bolt out and swung his other arm towards Giles. The chain came crashing through the top of his bed and through the loft's railing. Giles managed to roll off of the bed in time, hitting the floor hard.
Buffy and Xander swooped in then. Xander threw a net over the Krampus. It disoriented the creature for a time as he fought to free himself of it. It gave Buffy enough time to run forward and pierce the demon with a sword forged from silver. The Krampus roared in agony, and only then did they see blood. Black blood. "Silver!" Buffy cried. "Silver kills it!" The Krampus whipped his tail against Buffy, sending her flying back into the wall. She grunted and fell on the floor, momentarily dazed. The Krampus freed itself from the net after disentangling it from his horns.
Clearly, the demon was now pissed. It focused on Xander and lowered its head, intending to charge. Xander made a noise equivalent to a six-year-old girl and turned heel. The Krampus charged after him, his horns lowered to damage. Xander leapt over to the other side of the room. He shoved the Christmas tree behind him. The Krampus hit the tree instead and tripped, falling to the floor. Xander turned back around and leapt onto the Krampus' back. "Silver me!" he shouted. Buffy whipped open the weapon's chest and tossed him a dagger. "Oh, nice," Xander scoffed.
"Size doesn't matter!" Buffy shouted, grabbing some silver bolts and tossing them up to Giles. Xander stabbed his dagger into the Krampus' back. Giles grabbed the silver bolts and loaded his crossbow, taking aim and shooting at the Krampus. The creature was truly agitated now. He threw Xander off of his back as he stood back up, scrambling. Blood was running down his body. It turned its head to Buffy. "Come on, big boy," she said, holding her sword at the ready. "You're on the list. The Slayer list." She winced after that. "Could have been better."
The Krampus used his free chain to whip at Buffy. She dodged, the chain digging into and destroying the floor. Giles made a sound of dismay at that. He'd fixed his house how many times now? He shot another bolt, this one landing in the Krampus' neck. The creature roared in agony, distracted long enough, so that Buffy could run up his arm and shove her sword through the Krampus' chest, right into his heart. Since they weren't too clear on Krampus anatomy, Giles thought that they were quite lucky that his heart was in the same place as most humanoid creatures.
The Krampus choked on blood, his body falling to the ground. Buffy jumped back. The Krampus dissolved into black ash, the chains clinking, the only things remaining of the Krampus. Giles lifted his head, peering out at the destruction of his living room. "Well . . . I didn't get knocked out. I consider that a Christmas miracle!" he beamed.
After they had freed Willow from the chains, they fixed up Giles' sitting room the best they could. He was already tallying up the costs of a new floor, bed, railing, as well as the damage to the walls and fireplace. It hurt. He didn't suppose any of them had gotten him some rental insurance for Christmas. Lounging once more, they shared a bowl of popcorn whilst watching The Muppets' A Christmas Carol. The tree, now split in half, was sitting up against the wall. The presents remained mostly untouched, still neatly stacked.
Sunlight started to filter into the room. It was truly Christmas morning at last. As they began to sort out presents and open them, Buffy came up to Giles. He was smiling at the present he had just opened from her. It was a photograph of himself laying sprawled on the ground after a training session with Buffy, who was standing over him with a quarterstaff. Xander was laughing in the background. Willow had been the one to take the photo. He'd almost forgotten this. On the frame was written: #1 Watcher. "Hey, Giles, so—"
Giles didn't give Buffy the chance to finish. He shot up from his armchair and pulled her into a tight hug. "Oh!" she said in some surprise.
The show of emotion was odd for him as well, being the reserved Englishman that he was. Pulling away, he smiled down into her surprised face. "Thank-you, Buffy. This is lovely," he said, nodding to the photo in his hands. He'd been so unsure of his place in her life this year, of where he stood with the Scooby Gang . . . if he was truly needed any longer. Those thoughts and worries remained, of course, but this photograph reaffirmed his standing with Buffy.
She looked away bashfully for a moment, then shrugged and smiled lightly up at him. "Couldn't find any tweed ties, so . . . Besides, all my money went to textbooks this year."
"It's perfect," he assured her quietly, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Now, what was it you were going to say?" he asked, sitting back down and proudly putting the photograph on the end table beside him.
"Oh," Buffy gave him a look, her nose wrinkling, "so, nothing evil happens on Easter, right?"
The End.