Home for Horny Monsters Ch. 083

"Tink!" Kisa didn't dare let go of Holly, and could only watch helplessly as Tink vanished inside one of the bubbles. Growling, she squeezed Holly's waist as they collided with a bubble of their own, and the darkness washed away from them to reveal an old kitchen with a woman standing at a stove, stirring something in a pot.

The colors of the room were washed out like someone had wiped them away with a wet rag before they could dry completely. When the woman turned, it was to reveal that her face was missing. Where her features should have been was just smooth, dark skin. Her jaw moved, as if she was speaking, but no sound emerged.

A small girl walked into the room carrying a stuffed owl that had seen better days. Kisa stared, mouth open, as the child climbed onto a nearby chair and took the spoon from the woman. Other than the occasional clink of the spoon against the pan, the scene was silent.

The girl was unmistakably a younger version of herself. This completely human version of Kisa laughed in response to something the woman said, then continued stirring while the woman started chopping vegetables.

"Who is that?" Holly stood on wobbly legs, then grabbed Kisa by the wrist. "Where's her face?"

"I don't know," Kisa replied. Was it her mom? Or someone else?

"It's your grandmother." Christmas Past's voice was little more than a wheeze from the corner of the room. The spirit was splattered across the wall, its body a mess of limbs. Their face rested in the center of their torso near the floor. It had tilted sideways, light shining out of only one eye. "That's all I can tell you for certain. Your past, it's...I can't..."

"Shh." Kisa shushed the spirit and moved closer to the little girl. The child leaned away from the pot so that the old woman could dump extra veggies into the soup. She stole a carrot from the cutting board and munched on it casually as her grandmother pulled out a bowl of flour. It was a memory that was almost in reach, if she could just remember a bit more, maybe she would know who she was.

The spirit coughed, and the scene rippled as they were transported to another room. The woman and Kisa were sitting under a small tree in the living room, with only a couple of presents underneath. Pictures adorned a nearby wall, but any people inside the frames had been smeared away.

"Why am I with my grandmother? Can you tell me her name?" Excited, Kisa moved away from Holly and toward the woman. Her face was still missing, but Kisa felt the tug of familiarity when she got a look at the woman's hands as she playfully shook a gift. They were covered in calluses and old scars, hands that had been used for hard labor. Despite this, Kisa somehow knew that they were gentle, and would feel like the softest leather if she could touch them.

"I...can't..." Ink leaked from the corner of the spirit's mouth. "Your past is... broken."

"What's wrong with you?" Holly knelt down by the spirit and took one of their hands in her own. "Why are you trying to hurt us?"

Christmas Past sighed, then squeezed Holly's hand. "He's taking over," they replied. "He wants Christmas to... himself."

"Are you dying?" Holly went to touch the ink flowing out of Christmas Past's eyes, but they slapped her hand away.

"The past cannot be killed," they whispered, then looked at Kisa. "But it can be lost." They wiped the ink off their face and contemplated it on their fingertips. "Don't let his foul magic taint you, Holly. Don't let him...change who you are. Or change Christmas."

"We need to help the spirit," Holly declared. "This isn't what they're supposed to be like, they're meant to help people. I think...I think they're dying."

"I'll be fine...by next Christmas." Their weak smile became a frown as the ink reversed course and flowed back into their eyes. The light in their eye flickered like a candle in the wind. "Shouldn't have taken...all three of you. Was already hurt, but...so angry. Couldn't...control...sorry..."

"Where is Tink?" Kisa demanded.

The spirit looked up. A large crack appeared in the ceiling above them, and another version of Christmas Past fell through it. It crumpled like a leaf on impact with the floor, then crawled toward its duplicate letting out a wail of agony. The two of them flowed together to form a slightly more cohesive spirit filled with sparkling lights that soon dimmed.

From the crack, a figure hopped down, murder in her eyes. She clutched an ink-soaked screwdriver in one hand.

"Tink!" Kisa hugged her friend, but the goblin ignored her.

"Stupid ghost fuck stay out of Tink's head," she growled, pointing her tool at Christmas Past. When she swore, cracks appeared all around the room. "Piece of shit read Tink's thoughts, broke their fucking head! Now let Tink and friends go, or else."

"Get her away from me!" Christmas Past's voice altered in pitch as if two of them spoke. "Don't let her touch me, she's broken!"

"Tink show you what broken means." Tink slid out of Kisa's arms and reached for Christmas Past. The ghost let out a weak cry of agony as it tried to slap her away and failed. Tink stabbed Christmas Past in the face, her hand and screwdriver passing harmlessly through the spirit to strike the wall behind them.

The room shattered like glass, falling away from them to reveal that they were now somewhere else. Kisa felt her heart sink as the vision of her grandmother vanished, trying hard to get one last look at those hands that had raised her. She could almost feel them caressing her cheek, or wiping tears from her eyes.

They now stood in a dining hall, adorned with scraps of wrapping paper and broken decorations. Although the lights were off, large windows along the ceiling allowed the Northern Lights to stream in, providing plenty of illumination. On the floor, Christmas Past was nothing more than a shrinking ink blot with a face the size of a baseball.

"He's coming for you," they whispered, and then sank through the floor with a burbling sound like hot oil.

"Good," Tink spat. "If Tink see stupid horn head, Tink smash dumb fuck face!" She looked over at Holly, whose features had gone pale. When she addressed the elf, her tone softened dramatically. "We go now. Find room with screens. Watch for husband. Tink hate stupid Christmas ghost, make Tink see too much bad from childhood."

Holly nodded, then stood. She rubbed her eyes like someone who had been asleep for a long time, then walked toward the door of the dining hall. Adjusting her outfit, she turned to face them.

"Let's do this." Despite her determination, Holly's voice squeaked at the end.

"Hey." Kisa grabbed Holly by the hand. "You're not alone. We're with you."

Tink grabbed Holly's other hand, then smirked. "Pretty elf owe Tink big thanks. Maybe give Tink special kiss later, use lots of tongue."

"Tink!" Kisa looked at the goblin in shock. "Are you serious right now?"

Holly's face was so red, she looked like a Christmas bulb about to burn out.

"Big serious," Tink added. "Holly very good kisser, treat Tink like candy cane." She winked at Holly. "Tink remember. Big fun, many hours. Way better than hammer."

The tension broke when Holly laughed and shook her head. "You really are trouble, aren't you?"

"Trouble for some. Fun for others." Tink licked her lips lewdly. "Both if Holly lucky."

Holly laughed again, then led them out of the dining room. They were in a large building built like a lodge with criss-crossing beams everywhere. Kisa lost track of the long hallways and huge rooms, and was baffled when they came to a large set of wooden doors that led outside. The northern lights glowed ominously on Holly's skin as she turned to face them.

"If we cut across the courtyard, we'll save ourselves hours," she said. "But that does mean going outside. I suspect it may be colder than usual."

"You don't say." Kisa gazed at the ice-frosted windows. "As compared to what? This is the arctic."

"Yeah, about that. We vent excess heat from the furnace to keep the North Pole from freezing over, it's actually quite pleasant. The sunstone is essentially a tiny star, not sure if you were aware. Plenty of energy to provide heated walkways, hot cocoa stands every couple of blocks, we even tried a waterslide one year, but had to shut it down after a couple of reindeer got stuck." Holly gave the door a shove, but it was stuck. "Sprinkles, we might not even be able to--"

Tink kicked the door hard enough that the glass cracked as it burst open, sending ice skittering across the frosted walkways away from them. The icy breeze that blew in chilled Kisa through her fur, and she pulled her hood up.

"Guess we're headed outside," Kisa muttered as Holly led the way. She looked over her shoulder, feeling Mike shift away from her once more. Even worse, the memory of her grandmother's hands were already fading, her memories much like snowflakes on hot steel.

Together, they ran out into the cold, Arctic air.

Jack Frost stood before a bank of monitors, staring intently at the screens beneath the Workshop category. One of the displays was overrun with shadows and static that shifted around as the Krampus tore apart one of the many woodshops. The demon's presence couldn't be properly displayed by the monitoring system, a quirk of his unnatural existence, and so it appeared that dark static was ripping apart a drill press right now, metal and wood alike being tossed through the air with abandon.

When the Krampus left the camera's view, the screen returned to normal as the next feed scrambled.

Jack's eyes flicked across the monitors, hoping to see any sign of that man from earlier, Mike. The odds that the human would pose a problem were slim, but still existed. When Jack had returned to the main level, the Krampus had been waiting in the central hub for a full report.

It was surmised that an elf must have brought the man and his friends here, so the Krampus had left Jack behind to hunt them down. Apparently an elf had gotten away by fleeing into the vents, which had sent the Krampus into a rage.

Jack shivered at the thought of all that unbridled fury. The damage to the exterior of the furnace had been extensive, and would have been worse if the Krampus had not needed to use it later for his own reasons.

The floorboards behind Jack groaned as a heavy figure pushed the top of her bulk through the doorway.

"Has he found them yet?" The deep voice had a hiss to it that reminded Jack of escaping steam.

"Not yet, Grýla." Jack turned and saw that the giantess had only squeezed the top half of her massive bulk through the door. Her face was misshapen and her hair dull with grease and filth. Gnarled fingers left gouges in the floor as she shifted her weight from one hand to the other. "Any news from your sons?"

"They still seek the sleigh." Grýla licked her lips anxiously. "There were...complications."

"How so?"

When the Krampus had taken the North Pole, he had become enraged to discover the sled was missing. Luckily, Jack had the foresight to place a tracking beacon in Santa's bag. The Yule cat was capable of tracking it, but Jack had learned long ago that you never rely on a cat for anything of importance.

"The sleigh has been discovered by someone else." Grýla grimaced, then flexed her torso. The frame of the door cracked, then splintered. "My sons chased them, but they escaped by flying away."

"So who has the sleigh?" With the entire world frozen, there should have been no competition for the sleigh. Were these allies of Santa? If so, then why hadn't they just helped him defeat the Krampus? What did they want with the sleigh?

At the thought of Santa, Jack looked at the monitor in the far corner of the console. The camera there overlooked an unfurnished room with a crystalline mirror set in silver. Fog swirled just beneath its surface, but the bulky figure of a man in a red coat trapped on the other side of the polished surface could be seen.

It was the same mirror the Krampus had been trapped in up until this morning. If not for Jack, the Krampus would still be there, slamming fur covered claws against his shimmering prison.

Jack picked up the large snow globe that sat beneath the monitors. With a quick shake, sparkling snowflakes swirled around the interior. As they parted, it revealed a bony figure in Santa's robes, sitting next to a woman clutching a thermos. As the scene shifted outward, it revealed a massive three-headed dog pulling the sleigh through the air.

"What in the world?" With another shake, the scene vanished, revealing the Earth. A tiny golden light was now over the Pacific with a golden arrow pointed at Australia. "It looks like they're taking Santa's usual route."

Grýla bowed her head. "These are formidable adversaries. We need your help."

"I am unavailable." Jack looked once more at the monitor where the Krampus was. Until the human or the elf was found, there was simply too much at risk. "Do you not have other allies?"

"Bah!" Grýla spat on the ground. "My children are many, but they are stupid. The cat is no match for the hellhound, and my lazy husband is of no use to me."

"Fine. Here." Jack summoned a handful of ice crystals and approached the giant. Grýla bowed her head in reverence. "When they land somewhere cold enough for snow, have your children sprinkle this on the ground. It will summon the help they need, but they need to actually participate. They say that opportunity only knocks once for a reason, so make sure your sons actually put in the effort."

"You are too kind." Grýla pulled a small bag from her belt and held it out for Jack to tilt the crystals inside. "I will see it done."

"Good. There is too much at stake. A chance like this will never come again." Jack looked back at the monitor with the mirror.

"Why doesn't he just smash it?" asked Grýla. "And seal away the Saint for all time?"

Jack had pondered that same exact question hours ago. Santa's capture had been a private affair for the Krampus, but it had required that Jack lure the big man himself to the mirror room. Great pains had been taken over the last six months to brainwash a group of elves into complying with the Krampus' plan to free him. They had been taught to lie, to conceal, and most importantly of all, to obey Jack and the Krampus.

Nobody knew why the protective wards around the North Pole had weakened earlier in the year, but it had allowed the Krampus to reach out to Jack and the others using some type of astral projection. His arguments had been very persuasive, and they all stood to benefit from a change in ownership. Tonight was supposed to be the culmination of all that hard work.

Now, though, Jack had doubts. At first, the Krampus had been singularly focused on the elves, dragging them to an unknown location beneath the Workshop. They had largely obeyed him, though Grýla had been forced to hunt down a few stragglers with strong enough willpower to resist the Krampus' commands.

But then, instead of solidifying his victory by banishing Santa to the void, the Krampus kept him as a trophy. In fact, he had been visiting Santa when Jack had called up to let him know that mortals had been tracked to the furnace room. It was as though the demon couldn't help himself, he was consistently dropping by to torment Santa, but to what end?

"Grýla? Out of curiosity, what did the Krampus promise you?" Jack looked back at the monitors to check that the Krampus was still tearing apart the woodshop. He could move surprisingly fast when he wanted, and the last thing Jack wanted was for the Krampus to show up unannounced and interrupt Grýla's answer.

The giantess blinked as if processing the question, then grinned. "A return to our former glory," she said, the bag now tied to her belt. "No longer will my family be trapped in the ice, our legacy mocked and forgotten. Santa found a way to bind us here in the name of protecting his precious little believers, and we want out."

"To do what?" Jack asked.

Grýla started to say something, then smiled instead. "To live as we would," she replied. "No more, no less."

"Hmm." Jack frowned, wondering what that even meant. Grýla was being coy, which wasn't something the giants were known for.

Grýla coughed into her hand, as if aware of Jack's sudden scrutiny. "And what does the Krampus have to offer Old Man Winter himself, I wonder?"

An icy wind blew through Grýla's greasy locks, causing the giant to cry out in surprise as she bowed her head. Frost formed along her flanks and spread across the wall over the door.

"I am neither old, nor a man!" Jack retorted, grinding her teeth together. It was a centuries' old misconception, one that angered her to no end. There had once been a period when winter had been ruled by the old gods, mighty beings across the world who could steal the heat from a summer's day with a single breath. But their time had long passed, leaving behind others in their stead. Once a minor deity, Jack Frost had outlived those ethereal beings and risen in power to rightfully claim the mantle of winter's ruler, only to live in the shadow of those who had come before her.

It didn't help that her body lacked feminine curves, nor that her hair was short. She kept most of it tucked beneath her hat to keep the ends from becoming brittle. Once her hair was past shoulder length, it lost whatever natural protection her body had from the cold. She definitely wasn't about to wear a dress to clear up any confusion either, and she would often spend so much time in the ice that a beard of frost would form along her chin. The misconception was understandable, but nobody seemed to care when she corrected them. Jacqueline Frost wasn't even her real name, but it was still the one she had chosen for herself upon becoming winter's mistress.

The worst offenders were all those stupid movies and cartoons about Santa that had depicted her as a man. The Krampus had promised her that things were going to change for the better, that he would ensure that the world would properly recognize her for who she was. Christmas would mean something again and not just be a commercial holiday intended to bail corporations out of debt.

She fondly remembered the old days, before Santa had donned the red suit. The two of them had been friendly, and she had even ridden in the sleigh with him a few times to deliver gifts. She would ice the roofs over to ensure a smooth landing for the sleigh, and he would bring her spare cookies and treats that had been left out for him.

Now, though, he was so concerned about his own image that she was ignored, relegated to ensuring the North Pole was adequately frozen when Christmas came rolling around. At some point, she had become background noise, just like Grýla and her kin. Unlike the giants, she still had a job to do, but received no compensation or appreciation for it.

Jack wasn't dumb. She knew that freeing the Krampus would be seen as a betrayal. But the demon had known all the right words to say, and she had jumped into this mess with both feet, thinking there was no other choice. Impulsive decisions were rare for her, but she was simply full of them these days.

"Leave," she commanded. Grýla groveled for a moment longer, then forced her bulk back through the doorway. The floor creaked as Grýla moved down the hall away from the monitor room.

"Fuck." Jack turned her attention back to the monitors and noticed that Santa was staring at the camera, as if he could see her. He nodded knowingly, and she was half tempted to go down and shatter that mirror herself.

Instead, she turned off that monitor. With the Krampus still digging for that last elf, there was nothing to do for now but act as his eyes while he threw a tantrum. The silence gave her plenty of time to consider the ramifications of her actions, and even more doubts began to surface.