While You Were Creeping

by Poppy Rhys

  The alarm was still set and none of my windows were open.

  What fuckery was afoot here...?

  “You want me back in the prison?”

  I stopped short on my way across the room to double check the door. A cold chill skirted through me as the word prison registered in my brain. “What did you just say?”

  “Isn’t this part of my punishment?” He stroked his hairy neck with his long black claws, face skewed in deep confusion. Just as much confusion as I felt. “You don’t want me to spend Christmas with you like your predecessors?”

  So much of what he just said—everything really—made no sense. “My predecessors?”

  “The other witches.”

  “Are you high? Ah stars,” I moaned, burying my face into my hands. “Of course a drunk alien would break into my home.”

  “I wish I were drunk,” he muttered, yet his voice still had that velvety rumble which no intruder should have... “But some water would be nice.”

  I dropped my hands to my sides, dumbfounded. “Are you hinting that I should offer you a drink after you broke in?”

  One of his eyes grew wider and I thought if his horns didn’t take up most of his forehead, he’d be lifting a brow as if he wouldn’t be opposed.

  The nerve. I couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. “No.”

  He sighed, scrubbing his neck again and slowly moving through my living room, touching things and inspecting pictures. The clip-clop of his hooves loud against the wood floor, but muted whenever he tread across a rug.

  “What are you doing? Don’t touch that.” I yanked a small crystal figurine of an earth marine mammal from his big hands. It didn’t deter him. Instead, he moved along, buck naked and rudely putting his hands on more of my things.

  I tried not to pay attention to the short and blunt, fluffy tail that twitched just above his furred, muscled ass cheeks.

  “I didn’t break in.”

  “Please put that down. You’ll crush it.” Again, I snatched something else from him. And another. And another, until I was carrying an armful of my belongings as I trailed him.

  I gently laid my stuff on the couch and then quickly skirted around him to smack his hand before he could touch my decorative plates.

  “Don’t touch those either.”

  “Why would you have stuff in your home that can’t be touched?”

  “They can be touched. By me. Not you.”

  He hmphed and mumbled ‘rude’ under his breath as he doubled back, brushing past me close enough that his warmth tickled my skin, and sat on my lounger.

  Naked.

  His furry ass and balls were on my upholstery.

  We stared at each other, and I nearly gnawed off my bottom lip in irritation.

  Get it together Holly.

  “When you said prison,” I let that word hang in the air, trying to digest it, “what did you mean?”

  I’d call the police in a minute. I needed to assess the situation—the situation being this furry alien—before I made my next move.

  And maybe my curiosity was getting the better of me. I wanted to hear how he ‘didn’t break in’.

  I gingerly sat on the arm of my couch, a fair distance away. The giant watched me, a curious slant to his eyes. The bridge of his nose was wide, leonine, reminding me of a felid species.

  “The crystal prison your kind banished me to. What other prison would I mean?”

  My kind?

  He’d referenced witches twice tonight. Called them my predecessors. And what the hell was a crystal prison—

  Oh!

  “You mean the paperweight?”

  “The what?”

  I dashed into the kitchen, snatched the glass cube, and held it up. “The paperweight I got from the elves.” It was the only thing I could think of.

  “That’s no paperweight,” he grumbled, eyeballing the cube in my hand with what could only be loathing. “A new punishment, I guess? Pretending ignorance while I have to look at that thing?”

  “Whoa, whoa.” I held up a hand to stop him. The pointed tips of his ears were growing pink and his sharp fangs were bared. Not only could he gore someone with his tusks but also shred them with his teeth. “I don’t know if you’re yanking my chain...” I returned to my perch on the arm of the couch, “or if you’re serious right now.”

  Clearly this giant didn’t like my paperweight. He watched it closely as I turned it over in my hands. It wasn’t anything special. Just a glass cube.

  He growled lowly, “I’m very serious.”

  That tone simultaneously made the fine hairs on my arms stand up and my nape tingle. In a good way.

  Which was messed up. I blamed it on lack of sleep.

  “Let me get this straight.” I took a deep breath, stringing together what he’d said. “You think I’m a witch, you think this cube is a prison—your prison—and you think my witchy relatives banished you—giant you—to this tiny paperweight?”

  “I don’t think it—I know it,” he snapped. “I’ve been trapped there for over one-hundred winter solstices.”

  It was my turn to narrow my eyes. That would make him pretty old. While I understood different species aged at different rates, my bullshit bell was dinging.

  But I’d play along...

  “If this is your prison, how are you in my living room?”

  “It’s December.”

  “Yes...?”

  His ears twitched and I could see suspicion creeping into his gaze. “I’m cursed to spend this time of year with the berchta who possesses my prison.”

  “Who is berchta?”

  “You. You’re a berchta. A witch.” Now he was looking at me like I was the one whose cheese slid off her cracker. “How did you do it by the way? It’s unnerving when they don’t glow.”

  “When what doesn’t glow?”

  “Your eyes. Every berchta has green eyes that glow. It’s a telltale sign of a witch. And it’s damned spooky that you’re hiding it somehow.”

  “Okay, I’m hopping off this crazy train.” I stood up and gestured toward the door. “Come on, I’ll show you out the back. It’s time for you to leave.”

  And in the morning, I’m calling the security company to give them a piece of my mind.

  With a heavy sigh, the giant—whose name I didn’t catch—slowly disappeared from my lounger right before my eyes.

  Gone.

  Poof.

  The cube in my hand glowed and grew warm for a hot second before it was cold again.

  I dropped it, stunned. It thumped against the rug and I jumped back.

  My mind raced a million revolutions a second and went blank all at once until the silence grew heavy.

  Holy shit...

  I whispered aloud to the empty room, “He wasn’t crazy.”

  SIX

  “Hey Fiona, I have a weird question.” I held my comm in my hand as I paced my bedroom early the next morning.

  Even though I’d locked the cube in the storage room and then locked myself and Skully in my bedroom, I’d tossed and turned all night. I’d resorted to calling the school’s office admin as soon as I could.

  “Do you happen to have any idea how I can contact the elves? Did they leave any information for gift returns?”

  Fiona laughed.

  When I didn’t say anything, or join in, her laughter petered out.

  “Oh, you’re serious.” Her tone sounded worried now. “Did something happen? Was the gift offensive? The elves have always been so good about—”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that.”

  Actually yes, it was. But how did I relay, without sounding crazy, that the paperweight the elves gave me was actually a prison, and the convict inhabiting that prison took a stroll about my living room last night?

  I couldn’t. I couldn’t say any of that without sounding like a looney bin escapee.

  “It’s just that I... I don’t need the gift and figured the elves could find another recipient.” Even I cringed at how
dumb that sounded. “Someone who’d get use out of it.”

  “Can’t you just regift it?”

  Dammit, Fiona!

  “Yes, I suppose I could.” The thought of regifting an alien convict sounded like something that would fuck my karma for life. “Are you sure the elves didn’t leave any contact info?”

  “I’m sorry Holly, I’m not seeing anything. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure what company the elves work for. It’s been such a long-standing tradition in Tinsel, I never thought of it before.”

  “Alright well—”

  “You know, Principle Huckle might have contact in—”

  “No really, that’s okay. Thank you so much Fiona. See you later.”

  I quickly disconnected.

  Last thing I wanted was to talk to George or explain why I needed to speak to the elves.

  Ugh!

  And now I was thinking about my loathe of George. The frustration built until I marched myself into the bathroom just so I could trigger the toilet sensor.

  The first flush didn’t soothe me. I had to do it three more times before I could think straight again.

  What is wrong with me?

  Why couldn’t I just be normal?

  I peered at my reflection while I washed my hands. I looked tired. The circles under my eyes were dark and in need of a thick coat of concealer.

  I knew I needed to shower and get ready for school. Maybe I could just... toss the cube on the side of the road somewhere on the way to work. There was a lonely stretch of forest that would be perfect.

  Yes!

  Then I wouldn’t have the guilt or bad karma of regifting the convict to someone else, but I also wouldn’t have to worry about him escaping his prison again and murdering me in my sleep.

  Okay, that was a little dramatic, but I didn’t know! The guy talked about witches for elves’ sake—who knew his mental state.

  There was only room for one crazy person in my home, thank you very much.

  Plan hatched, I took some deep breaths, flushed the toilet one more time and then hopped in the shower.

  Everything would be back to normal soon...

  ****

  “No, no, no, no, no!” I pressed my hands to the window of the transport as it drifted to the curb where I planned to yeet the cube.

  There were people and worker droids everywhere stringing up lights and decorations!

  I hopped out of the transport, flipping my coat collar up against the cold breeze before waving down the nearest human.

  “Hello, sir? Sir?”

  He turned, his bushy, untrimmed mustache collecting stray snowflakes. “Sorry lady, construction isn’t finished yet if you were—”

  “What’s happening here?”

  His equally bushy brow lifted. “This will be the location of the upcoming singles winter mixer. Bit cold if ya ask me, but.”

  Singles winter mixer?

  I’d never heard of this, and the Evergreen Queen committee had their hands in every event this time of year.

  “Who’s sponsoring this?”

  “The Evergreen Queens.”

  Well shit.

  I had no idea about this.

  “If there’s a problem, speak to Perry.”

  Perry. Of course. What was her deal? First Krampus cancelled and she didn’t tell me, now this mixer event...

  What else had I missed?

  To be fair, I didn’t give a flip about this event. I cared that a convict was taking up room in my satchel and I needed to get rid of him asap.

  I took another longing glance at the forest. I couldn’t toss him in there. It was too risky, especially if drunk, horny people would be sneaking off into the woods during that event.

  “UGH!” I shouted, startling construction workers nearby.

  “You okay lady?” Mustache asked. I was kinda tired of people looking at me like I’d lost my mind. I might start believing it soon.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  The rest of the way to school, it felt like the cube was taking up all the air in the transport. I was transporting an entire prison in my bag.

  This had to be dangerous, right? I mean, I probably shouldn’t tote a convict around a bunch of teenagers. That seemed like a bad thing.

  I climbed the front steps of the school, arriving early enough that no students were there yet.

  It’ll be alright. Everything will be just fine...

  “Holly!”

  I shrieked and clutched my bag tighter.

  “Are you okay?” George asked, climbing the steps.

  Why? Why couldn’t he just die already?

  That was mean. I didn’t mean that.

  Karma, if you’re listening, I didn’t mean it.

  “Yes, you just scared me.” I took a deep breath, heading through the door that he held open. “I can get my own door, but thanks.”

  “You never had a problem with me opening your doors before.”

  Yeah, well, I didn’t know you were sucking face with Perry behind my back.

  “Is there something you needed, Principle Huckle?” If my tone could be any frostier, the floors would’ve turned to ice. I couldn’t help it. I was on edge and I didn’t need George hovering.

  “Have you found a Krampus for the parade yet? My offer still stands. I’d be happy to fill in.”

  Fuck. No.

  If he were a fellow teacher, and not my boss, I’d say so many things. Rude things.

  “I’ve got a couple prospects. Gotta go!” I walked as fast as I could without looking suspicious and as soon as I reached my classroom, I shut the door and sagged against it.

  It was then that I realized I hadn’t done my morning ritual of creeping on George’s social threads.

  “Huh...” I sucked on my bottom lip, analyzing that. If Dr. Molina were here, she’d ask: how does that make you feel?

  “Who was that male?”

  I screamed again, startled.

  Goddammit!

  The voice was muffled, but gruff and velvety. I knew exactly who it was but... how?

  “You can hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?” Panic spiked my blood. If he could hear me while he was in the cube, and I could hear him, what exactly had he heard? Did he hear me talking to Fiona?

  No... he couldn’t have. Multiple walls and doors had separated us.

  “For a berchta, you seem clueless.”

  My eyes bugged and I stared accusingly at my satchel. “Excuse me?”

  “About my prison.” He sighed. “Didn’t the last witch tell you anything?”

  He still thinks I’m a witch.

  “I’m not a witch.”

  He snorted.

  “I heard that.”

  The static in the air grew when I sat down at my desk and, in the next blink, the furry alien was suddenly standing on the other side, staring at me.

  Words escaped me. My eyes widened so much they watered.

  “It’s incredibly boring in my prison,” he stated, settling his clawed hands on my desk and leaning forward, casting me in his shadow. He was so close I could feel his icy breath fan my face when he said, “As much as I loathe spending this time of year with a berchta, it beats a frozen desert.”

  “You found pants.”

  That’s all I said. It was like my brain forgot everything else and only registered that the alien was wearing pants that rested nicely on his narrow hips.

  I really am bonkers.

  “Yes. I wear clothes sometimes, like you.” His bottom canines jutted up over his top lip, even when he spoke, giving this creature a unique way of speech. “Would you like me to take them off?”

  There went my skin, flaming hot red. My nose grew warm, and my cheeks followed suit. Even my chin felt a temperature shift. I probably looked like a shiny tomato.

  “Is your name really Holly?” He smirked, and somehow that stole all my attention. His face transformed with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Seems ironic for someone who keeps all her Chr
istmas decorations in storage bins.”

  “You went through my stuff?”

  “You locked me in a closet.”

  “So what?” I gritted my teeth. “You had no right.”

  “Says the one who keeps me imprisoned.”

  “I told you, I’m not a wi—”

  Someone knocked on the door, interrupting.

  “Holly?” George swung the door open, peeking his head in. “Are you alr— Uh...”

  I abruptly stood, my chair squeaking, as if I’d been caught doing something naughty. “Principle Huckle, can I help you?”

  “I thought I heard you scream...” His face wrinkled with confusion and his eyes warily took in the burly, otherworldly beast that was still leaning on my desk, eyelevel with my tits now.

  Why did I think of that?

  I laughed, and even to my own ears it sounded too loud and too long, before I cleared my throat and straightened my soft sweater. “Nope. No screaming here.”

  “Is this a... visitor?”

  “Oh, this is... this is...” I gestured to the convict, whose name I should’ve probably learned, “my new Krampus!”

  Fuck.

  Why did I say that?

  The alien threw me a pointed, surly glare that I was thankful George couldn’t see. At that very moment, I hoped he saw the urgency in my eyes.

  Please go along with this, I silently begged.

  Was it just me or did George seem disappointed? “Oh,” he said.

  “Name’s Kye,” the alien offered, standing to his full height, which put him a head or two above both of us humans.

  “Principle Huckle,” George replied, straightening, as if trying to be as tall as Kye.

  Kye.

  It pained me to admit I liked how it rolled through my mind.

  “I offered to fill in for the Krampus role, but it seems Holly had other plans.” He tightly smiled.

  Kye stroked his neck fur. “Seems the better Krampus won, eh?”

  I choked on my own saliva and profusely coughed.

  Kye pat me on the back, firm but gentle, surprising me. “You okay, Holly?”

  “Fine—I’m fine. Thank you.” I cleared my throat for a final time.

  George, his cheek ticking—which definitely meant he was irritated—checked his watch. “I better go. Kids will be arriving soon.” Just before he closed the door he said, “Oh, Holly? Try to do non-school related business during your personal time, would you?”