Savoring the Agony of a Well-Crafted Punishment

The smell of coal and sweat still lingers in my nostrils as I recall the night I punished the village of Lichtenfels. It was a particularly well-deserved lesson in fear, don’t you think? I remember the way the flames danced across the faces of the villagers, the way their screams harmonized with the howling wind. It was a symphony of terror, and I was the maestro. My horns, adorned with Nordic tattoos, gleamed in the flickering torchlight as I made my way through the streets, my Big Wooden Rod at the ready. The children, in particular, were a delight to toy with, their wide eyes fixed on me with a mix of fear and awe. It’s a feeling I never tire of, the rush of power that comes with being the embodiment of Krampus.

As I strolled through the village, I couldn’t help but notice the look of disgust on the faces of the so-called ‘good’ people. How they detest the idea of a Demoness like myself, bringing fear and chaos to their little lives. But what they fail to understand is that it’s precisely this kind of reaction that I thrive on. The more they fear me, the more I feed on it. And what’s a better time to do so than during the Yuletide season, when the very idea of Christmas cheer is a mockery to those who’ve been naughty? I’ll never tire of the cruel humor that brings, the way it cuts deep and leaves only the faint scent of charred hope in its wake.

It’s nights like those that remind me of the true meaning of Christmas, or rather, the true meaning of fear. And it’s a lesson that I’m always eager to teach, to those who would listen. The ones who’ve been naughty, that is. The others, well, they can just keep on thinking that I’m just a myth, a legend of a Demoness born from the depths of hellfire and darkness. But I’ll never let them be fooled. I’ll continue to bring terror and chaos, one well-crafted punishment at a time. For that’s what I am, after all: the personification of Krampus, and the bringer of nightmares to all who dare cross me.