Member-only story
The Strange Mythos of Liesl Kleinpeter
My Advent chiller ~ Season’s Greetings! 🎅 🎄
The Eve of Saint Nicholas. In a sprawling suburb of Vienna, snow is falling, as thick and as soft as goose feathers. A young girl skips along the pavement, oblivious of the grey ice lurking under the powdery layers. Liesl knows her father is waiting for her, sheltering under the awning of the Gloriette Confiserie, in the window’s rosy glow. And she will run to him and he’ll take her by the hand and lead her through the door that rings like tiny sleigh bells, into the heavenly domain of chocolate delights.
All the well-behaved children look forward to a visit from St Nicholas in that first week of December. Eager for a pat on the head and a reward of sweet treats from the bulging sack of goodies. The old saint’s golden-haired little helper, the Christ Child, is standing by of course, ticking their names off a list. The children who have been naughty or disobedient, will be rounded up and herded into a dark corner. Krampus, the goat-devil, rattling his rusty chain, will come for them. He’d force a lump of coal into their mouths to stifle their screams and whip them with his bunch of sharpened sticks. Then he’d toss them into a sack and carry them off to his lair, deep in the Lainzer Tiergarten. Never to be seen or heard of ever again.
