The Devil Behind Me

by Christopher Fulbright

  Aghast, Alex took a moment to recover. He covered his face with both hands, exhaling loudly.

  “When you say, abomination,” Gerd asked, “what do you mean? Was the baby deformed in some way?”

  “The baby ate its own mother, for god’s sake!” Alex said. “My sister!”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” Gerd rested a reassuring hand on Alex’s shoulder, “but the baby? What did it look like?”

  Alte Hexe exhaled. “Before Ilona died she told me who she was: Ilona Brandt. The woman gone missing during the Krampusnacht Massacre. She confessed that she was chosen to bear the child of Krampus and that she was impregnated that night in the woods. The other woman was a blood sacrifice to assure Krampus got a child upon Ilona.” She closed the book with a loud thud. “Ilona said that Krampus was not finished with you and she begged me to protect you. I told her you no longer lived in Germany, and she seemed happy to hear that.”

  Alex was too stunned to speak.

  “I threw a towel over the hideous creature and swaddled it so the ferocious thing could not move, eliminating the danger to myself. It went straight to sleep, sated on the blood and flesh of its poor, dead mother, Ilona.”

  “What happened to this hell spawn?” Gerd asked. “Did you kill this … monstrosity?”

  The old hag shook her head. “I was too afraid to kill the child of a demon, so I left it in the woods near the spot where the monstrosity was conceived. The child was taken in and raised by priests – and lives amongst us today.”

  “Perchta,” Gerd gasped. “Oh, my god, woman. As I feared, you speak of Perchta!”

  12

  “Krampus is not finished with you yet, child,” Alte Hexe Adalwolfa said, pointing a bony finger in Alex’s direction. “You got away. No one gets away from Krampus. Perhaps he sends his daughter to finish the job, ja?”

  “This is ridiculous,” Alex said.

  “Why ridiculous?” Alte Hexe asked, her tone sharp. “Any more ridiculous than Krampus killing all those boys in the woods so many years ago? Remember everyone think everything you tell is also ridiculous.”

  “Well, you’ve got a point there,” Alex grumbled. “I don’t get why he’s waited until now to finish me off.”

  Alte Hexe threw her hands into the air. “Who knows? Am I a demon to know what goes on in Krampus’s head?”

  “So how do we stop him?” Gerd cut to the chase in a very official tone. “Obviously, since we’re dealing with a supernatural creature, conventional methods of protection are not going to be effective.”

  “Ja, you are right.” The old hag rocked herself rhythmically in her chair. “The only thing that can protect you from Krampus is birch plated in gold.”

  “How can birch protect me? According to the myths, he passes out birch switches to bad children, so he’s touching birch all of the time.”

  “There are many trees of protecting natures once known to the ancients, but lost now to this modern world: yew, oak, birch. Birch drives out evil – that is why it is used in switches to smack the ass of bad children. It is also used in the broom handles of witches,” she paused to laugh. “Gold reveals untruths and protects against evil spirits and evil forces. Combining birch and gold creates a powerful weapon that can be used against Krampus.” Alte Hexe stood and crossed the room to a dusty cabinet. She opened the door and removed three red pillar candles.

  “Take these. They are blessed candles. You must construct a protective circle from gold-plated birch switches, remain within the circle and burn these candles. We will summon Krampus and ask how you can be released from his vengeance.”

  “Hell no. We are not summoning Krampus. I am trying to avoid meeting that bastard again. Why the hell would I purposely summon him – to invite him to tea?” Alex jumped from the bench and paced.

  “Krampus, like all evil beings, has a price. We don’t know what his price is until we ask him.”

  “There’s no other way?” Gerd asked.

  The old hag shook her head. “Nein.”

  “So how do we get gold-covered birch switches? We don’t have the equipment to melt gold. You don’t have any in your cabinet, do you?” Alex said with bitter sarcasm.

  Gerd leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I have a friend, a juwelier, his name is Claus. He can make them for us.”

  “There’s a start,” Alte Hexe said.

  Gerd stood. “Let’s not waste time. We must cut switches, find gold, determine how many switches are needed to create this circle, and talk to Claus.” He motioned for Alex to follow him, and then took out several bills and placed them on the old hag’s table. “Danke, Alte Hexe Adalwolfa. I will let you know when we require your services.”

  The old woman smiled and hobbled along beside the two men, opening the door. “I will be waiting.”

  13

  Alex hiked into the forest to cut bundles of birch switches. Earlier, they made a model circle using strips of paper to determine the length of the switches and how many would be necessary. Gerd scoured Uncle Henrik’s house to find gold to use in the plating of the switches. While Alex cut, Gerd met with Claus to discuss how much gold would be needed to cover the switches and to bring the jeweler what he had found so far.

  Choosing a tree with low hanging branches, Alex chose thin sections, and then cut those to precise measurements. His stack began to grow.

  “Shit,” he cursed. His hands were ribboned with cuts from the wood. He had forgotten his gloves. “There should be enough fucking blood on these switches for a sacrifice.” He tossed another switch onto his pile.

  Pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow, Alex sighed. The forest was relatively quiet save the wind blowing through the branches and the occasional rustle of birds taking flight. He was reaching for his water bottle when a loud crack snapped the silence.

  He froze.

  He heard quieter movement, more wood and leaves crackling and breaking beneath someone, or some thing’s, feet. Alex looked over one shoulder. Nothing to the right. He looked beneath his outstretched arm, to the left. There -- someone in the forest.

  A blur whooshed by his ear and he swerved to one side, instinctively ducking the object responsible for the sudden movement. His eyes followed the path of the hurtling projectile straight to the tree before which he’d stood a mere split second ago.

  Twack.

  An arrow rooted itself firmly into the tree trunk, just level with his head. Its shaft quivered with the impact.

  “Shit,” he whispered and didn’t know whether to run or remain frozen. He quickly reasoned that a moving target was harder to hit than one remaining still. Alex cast a glance at his bundles of birch switches, and then heard the whurl of another arrow passing by his right arm. He ran for the clearing, across which lay the road that led down into town.

  Alex ran until his feet met cobbled stone once more and the forest was uphill behind him in the distance. He kept running, down into the village, until his breath rasped in his lungs, huffing in the unaccustomed altitude and thinner air. He collapsed in the doorway of the bakery, leaning against the wood frame, panting. The baker peered through the open Dutch door, but didn’t say anything and then went about his business.

  “Damn!” He punched Gerd’s number into his cell phone. It rang. “Gerd?”

  “Ja?”

  “I finished cutting the birch switches--”

  “That is good.”

  “No, no it’s not good. They’re still in the forest. While I was up there someone tried to use me for target practice.”

  “What?”

  “Someone was shooting arrows at me!” Alex watched the road to the forest, waiting for the hunter to pursue.

  “Did you see who it was?”

  “I sure as hell wasn’t going to hang around and find out,” Alex said, shaking his head. “Is there someone we can send to get the switches? I’m not going back up there.”

  “Ja, ja. You are sure they were arrows?”

  “Sure as Tonto.” Silence
. “You know, The Lone Ranger? Tonto?”

  “Oh, ja. Cowboy and Indian. Old television show.”

  “Right, that’s the one.” Alex sighed. “Okay, well, I’m guessing a police report is just about useless, so I’m going back to Uncle Henrik’s. We can’t do anything until we have the birch switches.”

  “Don’t worry. I will send someone to get the birch. You went to the three trees?”

  “Ja,” Alex said. “One bundle was tied, the other was stacked. I didn’t get a chance to tie it up yet, but I should have enough cut for what we need.”

  “Go on home then. I will see you tonight,” Gerd said. “Guten Tag.”

  “Auf Wiedersehen.” Alex put the phone in his jacket pocket and stood to leave.

  He made his way back toward Uncle Henrik’s home. He followed the main road through the village, looking over his shoulder occasionally to make sure he wasn’t being followed. As he passed a small shop that sold primarily wood toys, he saw Perchta through the window. He stopped dead in his tracks and whirled around. He threw himself around the corner of the stone building into the alley and stood frozen, hoping she hadn’t seen him.

  Alex leaned his head back against the cold wall, looking into the sky, his heart pounding in his chest. “This is stupid. I’m hiding from a mutant.” He tried not to let the description that Alte Hexe had given them of the gory demon child creep into his imagination, but it did so nevertheless. Shit. I’m hiding from my own niece! The thought made him shudder with revulsion as he looked into the street and then in the other direction, to the end of the alley.

  A man in a priest’s robe stood there, motionless, head bowed so his face was concealed.

  Alex felt something catch in his throat. He cleared it. “Guten Tag, Vater.”

  The man did not acknowledge him. He simply stood there, as if waiting. Waiting for whom? Alex cast a worried glance back to the street.

  “Shit!” Alex bolted from his alley hiding place, straight into Perchta and her bundle of wood toys. He screamed like a girl. Toys flew into the street, onto the sidewalk, over his feet. She grunted loudly, motioning in anger. Alex looked back toward the robed man, who was now moving toward them at a quick pace.

  Perchta tried to speak in a garbled voice, her big fat tongue protruding from her mouth in a grotesque display. Alex shoved past her, kicking the toys from his path, and ran up the hill toward home.

  When he slammed the front door behind him, he bent over, grasping his knee with one hand and his side with the other, panting for air from the run.

  Gerd walked from the kitchen, holding a cup of steaming coffee, and stopped, looking at Alex. “Trouble?”

  “It couldn’t have been Perchta shooting arrows at me in the forest!”

  “Oh, did you think it was?”

  “Well, yeah. But it couldn’t be her. She was in the toy store selling some of her wood things. I ran into her in the street and knocked all her toys everywhere. Pissed her off.”

  “Ja, that would do it.”

  Alex’s heart slowed to a normal pace and he sat on one of the chairs meant only to be looked at beneath a big gold framed painting. “It was an accident. I was running from a priest.”

  “A priest?” Gerd’s eyebrows went up sharply. “What priest?”

  “I don’t know what priest. I saw Perchta in the shop, ran into the alley to hide from her, and there was this priest standing at the end of the alley, just waiting. I said hello, and he didn’t reply. Then I got to thinking about how you said Perchta was raised by priests, and then thought he must be waiting for her, so I ran away – and right into her.”

  “What a mess.”

  “She was pissed. Waving her hairy arms around, trying to talk.” Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Then the priest started coming toward me--”

  “What happened then?” Gerd seemed more interested.

  “I got the hell out of there is what happened then. I felt like it was the devil behind me.”

  “You don’t take care of things by running away,” Gerd said.

  “Worked in the past.”

  Gerd thought on that for a moment. “Ja. I suppose it did. But that was when you were a boy. Now you have to stand and fight.”

  “So, you’re saying I should have kicked Perchta’s ass in the street?” Alex laughed as much in amusement as to relieve the tension that had built up in him since he’d been shot at in the woods.

  Gerd laughed, too. “Nein. Of course not. Maybe the priest was only helping Perchta pick up the scattered toys, ja?”

  Alex shook his head. “Well, whatever. One thing’s for certain, it doesn’t seem likely that it could have been Perchta trying to kill me in the forest, so that means she--”

  “Isn’t working alone,” Gerd finished.

  “Exactly. Not very comforting.”

  Gerd took a sip from his cup. “Come to the fire. It’s drafty out here and I’m an old man.” He walked into the parlor. Alex followed. “There is another factor we haven’t considered yet.”

  “Krampus?”

  “Nein. The rest of the robed people you saw in the forest at the ritual involving Ilona.”

  “Damn. I hadn’t thought about them. There were maybe twenty people there that night, besides us, Ilona and the other woman. And Krampus.” Alex covered his face with his hands. “There’s no telling who they were – if they were local people or there just for the ritual.”

  “No way to know. No evidence was ever found. I, personally, poured over every scrap.”

  “Those robed people remind me of the Klan back home. Faces covered. Everyone dressed uniformly. All identities concealed to anyone watching, to anyone not within the circle,” Alex said. “Those people could be anybody. They could be selling groceries or beer right in town.”

  Gerd drank his coffee. “Well, there is good news about the gold and switches at least.”

  “You sent someone for the switches?”

  “Claus sent his boy. Got the switches, took them back to Claus. Right before you burst through the door there, Claus called to say he was melting the gold and would give me a call when the work was finished.”

  Alex nodded. “That was almost too easy.”

  “Claus is getting paid and business is slow.” Gerd laughed. “The faster he works the sooner we can summon Krampus and finish this business once and for all.”

  “I’m not so eager, really.”

  “It’s been a long time coming. Loose ends are never gut. It’s like your girlfriend said, everyone needs closure. This shouldn’t have taken all these years to wrap up.”

  “Well, assuming things go off without a hitch, I would like to move on. If this is what I have to do to get to that point, then I’ll do it,” Alex said.

  Gerd nodded.

  “Is the coffee still hot, do you think?”

  “Sure. I left the maker on warm.”

  “Oh good.” Alex went into the kitchen and found the coffee. As he poured a cup, he was suddenly reminded of Henrik’s death. The absence of the man was a strong as his presence had been. He was a good man and had not deserved what he had gotten.

  I brought this on him by coming back. Alex stared into the coffee, feeling the sting of loss, the weight of guilt. Gerd was right. He could not run. This must end here.

  1 4

  Night fell outside the windows of Uncle Henrik’s mountainside abode as they prepared for the ceremony. To do so, they had to do some rearranging in the bedroom where Alex had been staying.

  “Here, help me move the bed,” Alex said to Gerd and seized the left side of the headboard.

  “Over there?”

  “Yeah. The bed’s partly where I want to put the circle.” With Gerd’s help, Alex pushed the bed out of the way.

  Carefully he removed a single gold-plated birch switch and placed it onto the wood floor. One switch at a time, Alex lined them up in a circle, end to end.

  Alte Hexe Adalwolfa handed him the red candles. Alex placed them near the center of the circle a
nd placed a box of matches beside them. The old hag nodded, pleased with the results.

  “This is gut,” she said, a gap-toothed smile curling her wrinkled lips. “You will be safe here.”

  “I sure as hell hope so.”

  “No hell, boy. Do not wish hell upon us!” she croaked.

  “Sorry.” Alex stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. He surveyed the room to make sure everything that could be moved out of the way, had been.

  Alte Hexe pulled the drapes shut and the room grew dim. “Light the candles.” Then she crossed into the circle and there placed a curved, jeweled dagger. The silver blade glowed in the reflected candlelight.

  “Now?”

  “Why wait, boy? You want this to be done with? You will ask Krampus what it will take to get rid of him.”

  Alex looked at Gerd who just shrugged.

  “I will be in the hall making sure Gertrude stays out of the room,” Gerd said.

  “You’re not hanging around for this? Come now, Gerd. You don’t take care of things by running away.”

  Gerd laughed. “Excellent point, but this is not my business to conduct, young man. Besides, you’ve got Alte Hexe. You don’t need me. I’ll stand guard so no one comes in or out of the house.” Gerd walked to the door and twisted the knob. “If I don’t see you again, it was nice to see you after all these years.”

  “Oh, thanks. Makes me feel much better about this insanity I’m fixing to engage in,” Alex said, and stepped into the circle. The old hag stepped in beside him and sat on the floor near the red candles.

  When Gerd closed the door, Alte Hexe lowered her head and began to chant in some ancient tongue. The words lulled and calmed Alex, but he wished he knew what she was saying. Her eyes rolled backward so all that were visible were rheumy whites. Her head rolled in a drunken manner. Alex watched her with mingled fascination and terror.