On the Winds of Midwinter

Sunshine’s Journal, Winter 1896, Evelyn “Sunshine” Darling

Winter isn’t harsh enough for some. Frost can only cut so deep. Nights can only get so long. The wicked can sit by the fire, same as anyone else. That’s where Krampus steps in. To drive the monsters back into the cold dark. Strike them with the bark of birch and the bite of fear.

They say <i>we</i> brought Krampus across the ocean with us. That he wanted in on the fun. That he’s nothing more than a broken man with a taste for breaking others. Another sideshow joining our doomed troupe. Twelve souls to claim back the circus.

I don’t think we brought him here. The season did. These winter spirits are more than costumes. Madness with sails to the wind.

They’re proof that there are powerful things other than the Corruption. Devils that dance to the clatter of chains. I don’t know if that gives me hope, or fills me with dread.

Sunshine’s Journal, Winter 1896, Evelyn “Sunshine” Darling

The Strongman, Bradley the Brutal, had suffered for his sins and his scars were his pride. So, he went out to prove himself stronger than winter itself. Maybe add another wound to his collection. Or take a punishment he felt he deserved.

But Krampus found him first. They would test their strength on the High Striker. Whoever rang the bell loudest wins. A crowd gathered to watch. Krampus went first, lifted the hammer, and delivered a huge blow. The bell rang out. Then Bradley swung, and it rang louder.

They took turns, The Strongman winning every bout. He’d won. Krampus conceded defeat and handed over his hammer. It was light as a feather.

Bradley was outraged, and Krampus too. He called Bradley a cheater, said that he’d given Krampus the lighter hammer on purpose. Bradley was furious. He’d never needed to cheat. But the crowd didn’t believe him, hungry as they were to see a giant fall. They jeered.

Krampus offered him a rematch, but there was a catch. A punishment for Bradley’s treacherous ways. This time, Damon the fire breather would be lain with his head on the machine. Any blow would go through his skull. Our troupe would have an open role.

Brutal Bradley still had something to prove.

Sunshine’s Journal, Winter 1896, Evelyn “Sunshine” Darling

Grace Kim, The Sharpshooter, didn’t want to face Krampus. But she would never shy away from a challenge. When she heard his rattling chains, she shouldered her rifle and went after them.

A shooting contest, this time. Krampus had set out the targets in advance. Dummies, lit by candles, flickering like will o’ the wisps on the marsh.

The Sharpshooter took aim and proved herself. Three shots, three kills. Clean through the heads. Done in seconds.

Krampus remarked his surprise that she would so quickly kill her own friends. That those were no dummies, but Fast, Maggot, and Creaky. Our jugglers. Our doomed troupe now three lighter.

For the first time in her life, Grace was forced to curse her own skill.

Sunshine’s Journal, Winter 1896, Evelyn “Sunshine” Darling

In winter the crowds come in families to the circus. You become painfully aware of what you’re missing. That your troupe are your family. And we’d just lost Damon, Fast, Maggot, and Creaky. For pride.

We were the doomed troupe, and they’d known what they’d signed up for. Bradley was the fury. Fire and anger. But Grace just slipped away. Couldn’t take being reminded.

I wouldn’t wait around for some cruel irony to make me kill them. I was out for blood.

But he wouldn’t face me. I thought he was afraid. But Giggles guessed the truth. I was here to fight the Corruption and take justice for my friends. In his eyes, he had nothing left to punish. Despite everything I’d done, I was good. The thought made me sick.

That was when I stopped believing that Krampus was just a madman. He was driven by his own code. And I had my own duties to the rest of the troupe. To destroy that cursed circus.

I followed his cloven tracks through the howling wind and biting cold. But there were only Thorn Wreath’s thickets. Scraps of Frau Perchta’s fur. Coal Bearer’s soot. Bells scattered by the Devil’s Advocate. Shreds of paper left by Skinflint. They were hunting together now. Or each other. Season’s bleedings.

Next year, I’d earn my right to face Krampus. His bells would toll a funeral.