Book Six: Chapter 196

The acoustics of the stairwell ensured that there was nowhere safe, so the Krampus reappeared and threw himself free. Once on the floor, he fought to rise, his limbs distorted.

Mike unleashed another banshee’s cry, constantly backing up into Santa’s old workshop. The Krampus was shouting something, but Mike couldn’t hear it. His own ears were ringing, yet he didn’t dare let up. He almost tripped a few times, but he managed to make it next to the North Pole.

He unleashed one more scream, then coughed into his hand. Blood spattered on his palms.

The Krampus rose, now standing nearly twelve feet tall.

“And now, Caretaker, you’re out of tricks.” The Krampus sneered, then snatched Mike’s foot and yanked him into the air. “It’s time to claim what is rightfully mine!”

“About that.” Mike turned his attention to the North Pole. There was a tiny sliver of golden light at the very bottom, likely all that was left of Christmas. The light it cast threw ominous shado