"I need your help! Last night, demons broke into my house, plundered everything, and before they left, they took the souls of my three children!"
The giant, grasping his eyes so much that it almost seemed as if his orbits were about to come out, rose up and, grasping the heavy bishop's staff with one hand, swirled him whirling in the air, thundering his disappointment.
"What? What were you waiting to tell me? Come on, lead me in haste to those children, and on the journey pray to God that he will come in time to save them, or I will vent my wrath upon your empty and useless heads with this stick!"
In a hurry the three of them left the temple, while the Bishop, still incredulous of the stupidity of the two peasants, grumbled with narrow teeth.
"Unconscious lunatics! There are children in mortal danger and they get lost in useless shacks!"
When they reached their destination, signs of devastation from the raid were clearly visible. The hiccups of the mother of the children could be heard distinctly, bent over their bodies lying in thatched beds and immersed in a deep sleep.
"Here they are, Your Excellency. They are wrapped in an endless sleep..."
The Bishop bent over the children and, as he did, unfortunately, those who had already seen such symptoms began to examine them.
"It's just as I thought... the souls of the boys are relegated to limbo halfway between life and death, we must act soon or... the worst will prevail."
The door suddenly opened wide and sneering monstrosities appeared on the threshold, maliciously peering at them.
"Oh my God, the demons! They're back!" cried the man.
Everyone gasped and fled back in terror. All except the holy man, furious at the mere sight of intruders. Foreboding what was going to happen, he grabbed his stick and prepared himself for the fight.
The monsters, whose leader of the pack was supposed to be the biggest, came boldly and showed the worst intentions.
"Nicholas! You finally fell into the trap! The time has come for you to pay your debts to our master, with your blood!"
The other hideous creatures, snickering, foolishly echoed their leader's last words.
"Eh! Eh! Trap! Trap!"
"Your blood... your blood!"
Nicholas, revealing his perplexities, frowned upon his forehead.
"And you think a shabby bunch of Krampus can really bother me?"
"You're a regular loudmouth! However, while we will tear you to pieces, the souls of the little angels you wanted to save will fly straight to the lands of my Lord, slaves for eternity, and you will not be able to avoid it!"
Anger took hold of Nicholas and the hand guided her.
"No more words!"
Swirling the stick in the air, he struck a violent blow on the muzzle of the first Krampus, who, unfortunately, had inadvertently crossed the threshold of safety distance. The jaw, broken on impact, distorted the creature's face in a comical grimace. The creature, pirouetting on itself, headed at great speed on the opposite wall. The others, without further delay, threw themselves screaming at the enemy trying to knock him down, those with nailed clubs, those with spears or sharp sickles. Every attempt to hit him generated skilful parades and quick responses that at first disarmed and then inflicted painful blows. Nicholas alternated the use of the crosier with his fists and slaps, settling them with great satisfaction and with all the power that his enormous bulk made available to him. Whenever one of the evil creatures was put out of action for good, it would dissolve, leaving a greyish dust and disappear forever into the limbo of evil. Much of the furniture was destroyed in the fight, used mainly by Nicholas both to defend himself and to put the enemy out of the game. During the clash, the Bishop had the impression that this group of Krampus was not particularly trained for battle, given their lack of ability to coordinate with each other, and it did not add up. This was also confirmed by the ease with which he disengaged from attacks and how easily he managed to bring them down. One after the other all eleven demons were sent into the underworld, leaving only their wounded and crawling head in the corner of the room under the threat of the giant's coup de grace.
"You think you've won, don't you?" the Krampus insisted.
"Correct me if I'm wrong: you're alone, unarmed and on the ground, what do you think?" replied the man with the confidence of the winner.
Panting despite his condition and panting for his wounds, the creature spat a blackish mush into the ground.
"I may disappear from this world to the underworld, but you, dream man, will never find the way to bring the children back in time!"
The Bishop bent over the demon, grabbed him by his lapel, lifted him up to threaten him more closely.
"Indeed, I believe you will lead me down the right path."
In a grimace the being expressed all his hatred.
"I wouldn't swear to it, Your Excellency!"
Pressing a claw on the abdomen, the Krampus self-inflicted the fatal blow and dissolved in the hands and astonished glances of those present, while a last malignant giggle echoed in undefined points of the room.
"No! Damn him!" he yelled at Nicholas.
While not fully understanding what had happened, others did not escape the concern that appeared on the Bishop's face. Breaking the silence created, the father of the children dared to express his fears.
"Your Excellency, can you still do something for my boys?"
The holy man, although he sought concentration by squeezing with his thumb and index finger the area between the bridge of the nose and the eye cavities, had to surrender to the evidence of the facts: he had fallen into the trap! That group was only sent to slow him down.
"I... I'm sorry, but that thing was right, I don't think..."
As he was about to announce his defeat publicly, the unexpected solution arrived from the front door: a last Krampus burst in, upset by the long wait.
"So? How long does it take to... to..." the little dark demon abruptly suspended the sentence when he entered the room. Noting the absence of his companions and the presence of the Bishop towering imposingly, he sensed that something had gone wrong and decided to improvise.
"...to sell those branches? Yes, good cleaning branches! But I can see you're all very busy, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get out of your hair and..."
Nicholas' heavy stick fell to the ground a few inches from the demon, as a clear warning not to move.
"The next shot will go straight to your ugly face."
The black leprechaun began to sweat cold and, swallowing with difficulty, tried to pity the man with the furious look by kneeling at his feet.
"I beg you, Excellency, show mercy and magnanimity for an unfortunate being who begs for mercy! I'm a simple, pointless mistake! I shouldn't have become a Krampus, I'm too cowardly and incapable, think that they never let me take part in any armed confrontation!
The master only recruited me because there was one missing to form the group of thirteen and I was looking for mushrooms that day. It's the truth, I swear!"
The giant grabbed her by the lapel of his shirt and gnashed his teeth like a furious mastiff and pulled against his face.
"No one can become a filthy Krampus unless he has first soiled his soul, but you're right, leprechaun, your gaze is that of a coward. Relax, your arrival was providential, and I need you, so I won't eliminate you. Not yet at least..."
"Oh, thank you, mighty and wonderful lord, I will do anything you command me, you'll see, you'll trust me, I'm just a lost sheep and..."
"Oh, thank you, mighty and wonderful lord, I will do anything you command me, you'll see, you'll trust me, I'm just a lost sheep and..."
"Now, little monster, you must sleep" he warned him.
"Huh? I beg your pardon? Sleep? I don't mean to be irreverent, but I'm having trouble sleeping at this hour..." he tried to apologize for not understanding, but he knew there was nothing good in those words.
"No problem, I'll gladly help you," the bishop made clear in his own way.
A well-aimed fist in the head was enough to knock the creature out.
"Well, sleeping pills administered, now it's my turn."
Noting that another bed had been set up next to the children, probably for the night vigil of the mother, he lay on his back holding the forehead of the Krampus with one hand and the crosier with the other. A white patina covered his eyeballs: a sign that the journey had begun.
Those present watched in silence without commenting, but confident that the Bishop knew what he was doing. Despite this, however, apprehension and anguish weighed on the hearts of the parents, only partially relieved by hope and prayer.
Chapter 2
What the Krampus saw when his consciousness was activated was a fairy-tale and surreal landscape, however incredibly realistic. With open mouths he contemplated the panorama that surrounded him without the slightest awareness of what was happening to him. He was awakened by the weight of a large hand on his right shoulder, which shaken him insistently, but it was the owner of that hand that made him grow weaker.
"You're not dead, don't worry. Now, demon, hurry up, we've got a long way to go." Nicholas urged him.
"To go where? Could you be less cryptic and make me understand what's going on, please? If you brought me with you, it means you need my help, but if I don't know what to do, how can I ever help you?" he demanded to know the Krampus.
Nicholas sighed, he had no desire to talk with a demon, but he recognized that necessity required a sacrifice.
"You will be the polar star that will show me the way to reach the kidnapped boys," he acclaimed.
"Sorry to disappoint you, my friend, but I have no idea what you are talking about!" was his sincere answer.
The giant once again showed off his intimidating look on the little creature, sure that he would have all his attention.
"First: I am not your friend. Second: you don't need to know more, just walk in silence and in front of me."
"Yes, but where to? Come on, I have the right to know something, don't I? I don't even know your name. By the way, what is your name? I am Pétros the Moor, in case I want to use an appellation other than: monster, demon, goblin..." I will enumerate.
Nicholas was not accustomed to mistreating people he considered inferior, but that was not a person, but a diabolical Krampus, and that raised a wall of contempt that was difficult to break down.
"Pétros is enough for me. Then I do not judge by the colour of the skin, but by the colour of the soul. Anyway, this is the world of dreams, the infinite roads that unravel can take you everywhere, including the way to Hell, and this is what we are looking for, to recover the kidnapped boys before they reach it. Finding the right path is almost impossible, but you, as a demonic entity, are naturally connected with that path: your nature will guide us without you realizing it".
For the first time, Pétros found himself speechless and continued to walk the path that magically formed under his feet.
"Nicholas launched the bishop on the plate of education.
The leprechaun looked banned the giant.
"Sorry?
"My name: Nicholas," he said dry without adding anything else.
A smile of satisfaction appeared on the face of the Krampus.
Every now and then, at the roadside, objects of the most disparate shapes appeared, which changed quickly depending on the perspective or intensity with which they were looked at. Monkey-shaped fountains erupted bananas that suddenly became flying cobs that croaked words backwards. Wavy palaces that grew out of all proportion until they were lost above the sky. Streets of coloured pebbles with junctions in every direction, including the sky and the subsoil, or ending in dark puddles.
Pétros walked regardless of where he went, letting his feet lead him, just as he had been told, and at every step the bricks were coloured bright red.
"This place is...crazy! It looks like the delusions of a madman!"
"In reality they are: your mind is unconsciously producing them, they are your fantasies, while I am only a guest."
"Incredible! Are you saying that if I concentrate enough and think about a wineskin, this could materialize?"
"It's risky to make explicit requests in dreams, you have to deal with your emotions: fears, anxieties, hidden desires..."
A large barrel materialized in the distance in the air, only to fall and crumble ruinously to the ground, sprinkling the road with wine, immediately sucked by a gutter that ended the work with a burp.
"Here is an example, if you had been more agitated the risk would have been greater and the fact that this place is a mental projection doesn't mean that we can't die".
The demon watched helplessly the wicked scene he was performing before his eyes.
"I doubt there is anything worse than the loss of an entire barrel of wine..." he found disconsolate.
Pétros' confidence was lost when he came across a fork in the road that led to a dark dirt path.
Nicholas, noting the indecision, thought to question him.
"Why did I hesitate? Is something wrong?"
"I don't know... I feel I must continue along that path, but at the same time I have unpleasant sensations, as if entering there was extremely dangerous, if not deadly..."
The big hand of the man fell amicably on the back of the small being, which for the movement advanced several steps forward and risked falling to the ground.
"Then it means that we are in the right place! Come on, let's take that road and keep our eyes open, from there on we'll get out of your mind and into the hellish meanders!"
"Hell...ish? Listen, I don't think I'm suitable for such a journey, after all, I've done my duty and you've found the way, so my presence should no longer be necessary and I..." he hesitated in fear.
"I still need you. You are an indispensable catalyst to get to our destination, so you will travel the road with me. Come on, move!" he was abruptly exhorted by the holy man.
This time the goblin received a less friendly and more eloquent push than the previous one, which spurred him on to continue in spite of himself.
The surrounding landscape was less surreal than the previous one, there was only a path that crossed a barren and barren area, rarely approached by shrubs and brushwood, immersed in a semi-shade that immediately gave little visibility, and then darkened until it became impenetrable as one looked away.
"You didn't bring flashlights with you, did you?"
"No. I only have my rod2."
Reading the misunderstanding painted on the face of the creature, he gave further details.
"The ribbon, the crosier...in short, the sacred stick!"
"Ah! Well, it would have been more useful to have at least a flashlight..."