2. Krampus

CHAPTER 2

KRAMPUS

M y muscles burn as consciousness floods back. Last thing I remember, plasma fire tore through my ship's hull. Now... cold metal beneath my feet and stale recycled air. A basement?

"Find her!" The shout echoes from somewhere above. Multiple footsteps thunder overhead.

I flex my fingers, testing mobility after the deep freeze. The cryo pod behind me hisses, venting the last of its preservative gases. Warning labels cover every surface - cute. As if anything could contain me.

An unfamiliar scent tickles my nostrils. Female, but not any species I recognize. Her chemical signature lingers on the pod's control panel, mixed with that artificial flowery garbage females insist on dousing themselves with. Harder to parse her true scent through it, but there's no mistaking who freed me.

I owe her for that. Honor demands it.

"Check the basement!" More shouting. Closer now.

I crack my neck, rolling massive shoulders. My fur bristles with anticipation. Been too long since I've had a proper fight. The female's trail leads toward a stairwell - she's long gone, but these others... their footsteps draw near. Armed, from the sound of their gear.

Perfect. I'll start my debt repayment by eliminating her pursuers. Then I can track her properly, ensure she survives until I've finished cleansing this cesspool of a galaxy. She earned that much by freeing me.

The basement door crashes open. Time to remind everyone why they call me the Destroyer.

I bare my fangs in anticipation.

"Who's first?"

The Grolgath soldiers huddle at the doorway, their weapons trained on me but fingers trembling on triggers. The stench of their fear fills the basement.

"Get him!" The corporal's voice cracks.

"Sir, with all due respect..." One of his men shifts from foot to foot. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

I drop my head back and sigh.

These weaklings scatter like leaves in a storm. Three of them hit the ground face-first, begging for mercy. Pathetic. The fourth pisses himself and drops his weapon.

"I can't get a decent fight anymore. Everyone just runs away, or falls to their knees and begs for their lives. Are there no real warriors left in this fading Galaxy?"

My roar echoes off the basement walls. The sound brings back memories of better days, when opponents actually fought back instead of cowering.

Heavy footsteps from the stairwell. A massive shape emerges from the shadows, ducking to clear the doorframe. This one's different - carries himself like he knows how to throw down. His grey hide ripples with cybernetic enhancements.

"I, Gork, challenge."

His knuckles crack like gunshots in the confined space. Finally. Someone with a spine.

The air crackles with potential violence. My fur stands on end, electricity dancing between my horns. The scent of ozone mingles with his mechanical oil smell.

"At least one of you has some balls."

He towers over his companions, nearly matching my height. The smaller ones scramble out of our way, pressing against the walls.

"Been waiting centuries for a proper fight."

My claws extend with a satisfying snikt . Gork's cybernetic eyes whir as they focus on my stance. Smart. Studying before engaging.

The basement feels too small for what's about to happen. Perfect.

Gork launches into an elaborate display, his cybernetic limbs whirring. His foot slices through the air in a high arc. Another kick. A backflip. More kicks.

The basement echoes with his shouts. "Hi-YAH! WATAAAAH!"

My ears flatten against my skull. The sound grates worse than malfunctioning ship engines.

He springs off the wall, tumbling through the air. His chrome-plated legs flash under the fluorescent lights. More yelling. Always with the yelling.

"I've studied Kur Lee under a Grandmaster." He lands in what he probably thinks is an impressive stance. "I can split a stack of Novarian timber fifty pieces thick without getting so much as a splinter. You're about to experience a whole new meaning of pain. A whole spectrum of pain! Like a rainbow!"

The urge to yawn nearly overwhelms me. I raise my hand and backhand him with barely any effort.

His augmented body crashes through the concrete wall. Dust and debris rain down where he vanishes into the darkness beyond.

"You should have called it a Painbow." I brush fragments of wall from my fur. "That would have been witty AND succinct."

The remaining Grolgath raise their weapons. The air fills with the staccato of gunfire, bullets pinging off my hide like raindrops.

"Oh yes, right there." I clutch my sides, doubling over with laughter. "That spot's been itching for centuries."

More bullets spray across my chest. The sensation reminds me of those massage chairs in luxury spaceports.

"This isn't helping your case, you know." I straighten up, stretching my arms overhead. "I am he who dines on your entrails and thoroughly delights in the experience. I am the missing lugnut from an easy-to-assemble stardrive. I am KRAMPUS."

My claws tear through the first soldier before he can reload. The second tries to run - his spine snaps like kindling in my grip. The third's head makes a satisfying crunch against the concrete pillar.

Support beams groan as I rampage through the basement. My fists punch through walls, my kicks demolish storage units. The hated cryo pod crumples beneath my heel, centuries of frost-covered metal reduced to scrap.

Bodies and debris litter the floor. The basement lies in ruins, structural integrity compromised. Dust settles in my fur as silence returns.

That female's scent still lingers. Faint, but trackable. She freed me from that prison - perhaps she can tell me where and when I've landed.

I lift my snout, testing the air. The trail leads upward, toward the surface.

These stairs weren't built for someone my size. My horns scrape the ceiling with each step, leaving gouges in the plaster. The female's scent grows stronger - she passed through here recently.

A blast of crisp air hits my nostrils. Not recycled. Natural atmosphere. So I'm planetside, not on a station. The scent carries traces of hydrocarbons and organic decay typical of pre-spaceflight civilizations.

The stairwell opens onto a street packed with primitives. They march in formation, but their discipline is laughable. Some wave colored strips of fabric. Others blow into crude sound-producing devices.

And everywhere, colored lights and restive red and white striped meat hooks. This is clearly a celebration of some kind. Many people in the procession and those observing wear the red and green livery of this kingdom.

Wait. That floating effigy...is that supposed to be me? The horns, the blue fur, even the snarl - a crude representation, but unmistakable.

"Look at that amazing costume!"

"So realistic!"

The crowd roars as I step into their ranks. They recognize their better, as they should. Their celebration can only be in my honor - perhaps tales of my previous visits survived through their generations.

"That's right!" I raise my arms, basking in their worship. "Bow before Krampus!"

Their cheering intensifies. Small ones perched on shoulders point and wave. Primitive recording devices flash.

"Best parade ever!"

"The effects are incredible!"

These beings are pathetically small and fragile. Their bodies would crumple like paper in my grip. No wonder the Grolgath chose this backwater for their operation.

"Yes, that's right, worship your new Overlord." I bare my fangs in what passes for a smile. "These beings are small and squishy and weak. No wonder the Grolgath came here. I can conquer this world with one hand behind my back."

The procession grinds to a halt. My admirers crash into each other like dominoes, their crude instruments squawking in discord.

"No more destruction of our heritage!" A line of humans blocks the street ahead, linked together with primitive metal restraints. Their signs wave in the winter air. "Save the Blackwood Building!"

"How dare you interrupt my celebration?" My voice booms across the street. These insolent worms think to impede my grand parade?

"We've chained ourselves together! You'll never move us!"

A growl builds in my chest. The surrounding crowd falls silent, their festive energy replaced by delicious tension.

"I am KRAMPUS. I have torn apart space stations with my bare hands. I have wrestled star-krakens into submission. And you think your pathetic chains can stop me?"

My roar drowns out their chants. Windows rattle. Car alarms shriek in harmony. The protesters' faces drain of color as I stalk toward them.

"Oh shit. Oh shit. Where's the key?" Their leader fumbles with trembling hands. "I swear I just had it!"

"Found it!" Another one produces a small metal object. "What a fortunate coincidence!"

They scramble to unlock their restraints, practically falling over themselves to clear the path. Their signs litter the ground in their wake.

The crowd erupts in cheers. "Way to go, big guy!"

"That was awesome!"

"Best parade character ever!"

I spread my arms wide, accepting their renewed adoration. These humans may be primitive, but at least they know how to properly appreciate their betters. Unlike those foolish protesters who dared stand in my way.

"The parade continues!" I declare. "As it should!"

The music swells again, twice as energetic as before. My subjects shower me with confetti and praise. This is more like it - the proper way to honor Krampus the Destroyer.

The procession halts at a vast open space. A towering evergreen dominates the center, wrapped in unlit strands that remind me of stellar navigation beacons.

"Our guest of honor will light the tree!" Someone shoves a primitive power coupling into my claws.

"This pathetic device controls your sacred arbor?" I ask.

"Just flip the switch!" Someone pleads.

I crush the mechanism in my grip. Electricity arcs between my horns, dancing through my fur. The tree blazes to life, each tiny bulb igniting in sequence.

The crowd erupts in cheers. Again. These humans are easily impressed by the simplest displays of power. No resistance, no challenge - just instant submission. Where's the fun in that?

The female's scent still tugs at my senses. My debt remains unpaid. Until I find her and balance the scales, my honor lies in tatters like those protest signs back on the street.

"Hey there, big boy." A female stumbles against my arm, reeking of fermented grain. Her garment barely covers her vital organs. "What's under all that fur, hmm?"

"My... fur?" I ask.

Her fingers tangle in my chest ruff. "Come on, take off the costume. Show us what you really look like."

"Costume?" I say, still confused.

She grabs my muzzle with both hands and pulls. Hard.

"What kind of mask is this? It won't come -" Her eyes widen as my tongue flicks across her palm. "Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god!"

Her shriek pierces the night. The crowd's adoration transforms into pure terror. Bodies crash together in their rush to escape. Drinks and snacks scatter across the ground. Music dies in a cacophony of dropped instruments.

I stretch my arms wide, breathing in their fear.

"Now THIS is the way I'm used to being greeted on a new planet."