Читать книгу Nikolaos The Man Of Dreams ...and The Legend Of Santa Claus - Armando Lazzari - Страница 9

Prologue

In the village the noises had been gone for several hours and the silence of the night would not be interrupted for much longer at least until the roosters gave their consent the day to rise.

But that was not one of the usual cold winter nights. It was decreed by a chilling howl that broke the quiet.

Everywhere large and small suddenly arose with their eyes wide open and their hearts throbbing with terror. Then chaos!

Those who had dared to look out from the dark, had seen their nightmares incarnate and walk the streets, sweeping and raging everywhere, taking possession of everything they encountered as they passed. The glow of the high moon in the sky left no doubt: those hideous monsters that raged through the streets were Krampus! Hairy and cuckolded demons, as invincible as they were cruel.

Merciless and swift as the worst storm, they grabbed almost all the supplies and disappeared swallowed up by the darkness of the woods from which they had come, leaving the poor inhabitants only the terror still nestled in their minds and the hope of a mild winter to survive.

Beyond the woods, on a hillock far away among the low grass of a clearing, the loud laughter of a group of men made their way through the crackling flames of a bonfire. On the ground, piled up, worn and shabby furs were thrown, painted black and red, adorned with chicken feathers, while some terrifying masks of horned demons were performed in mocking ballets.

"Did you see how they shit their pants?" said one.

"All whimpering and calling out for Mummy!"

"It was like seeing a bunch of chickens flying crazy in the yard! Cluck, cluck!"

The parody of frightened people generated even more hilarity than the imitation of the animal that man exhibited to his audience, no doubt due to the large quantities of wine swallowed. The least sober of all was also the only one to notice the anomaly.

"It's okay that I'm used to seeing double, but weren't we thirteen? Who the hell is that?"

Then the eye slipped where it shouldn't have.

"Look at his legs! He has legs shaped like a goat's hoof!" he shouted bewildered.

Everyone stopped celebrating and turned to the hooded figure who hadn't yet taken off his mask.

"Exactly... you mentioned me, my name is Pelznickel!"

Having discovered its face, the being showed its true horrifying nature and so, trembling with fear, men understood that what they saw was not a human being, but a demon.

"I've been watching you guys for a while. You've done a fine job in the village, I'm glad you did, and since your souls are black enough, I decided to give you a gift."

One of the scoundrels, a chubby little dark-skinned, sniffing out the imminent danger, tried to sneak away, but a bewitched hand, made of smoke appeared from the demon's body, was quicker than he was, and stretching too far, took him up unnaturally.

The man, incredulously, wavered furiously suspended in mid-air begging for help among the petrified glances of the others, who remained motionless.

"Let me go, let me go! "Please don't hurt me, I didn't even want to come tonight! They told me there'd be drinks and I'm just a drunk by vocation!" he begged.

"Don't worry, I don't want to hurt you, on the contrary, you will join my special army: real Krampus!"

Other twelve other offshoots, similar to the tentacles of a gigantic octopus, came out from the supernatural being to grab each one its victim and creep into its mouth.

From that moment on, those men stopped being such and their eyes became as black as the night that had enveloped them.