2016

Krampus—

As ordered, I have infiltrated the family Thurman. Theirs is a wretched lair, a paragon of all that you feared. My mission—the one I described to you as "pointless" and "a huge mistake"—has proven to be more important than even you expected, and more perilous than I have experienced in my long career as your loyal minion. I have taken on the appearance of a harmless mouse, and now realize I should have taken a better form. Like a Tasmanian devil. Or a Komodo dragon. Maybe a Siberian Tiger. Something with horns. A way to defend myself against these humans and their tyranny.

The children are as vile as you claimed. The one called Zoe is in something called “kindergarten,” no doubt a training ground for those who would see you and our kind eliminated. Her teeth keep falling out, which the mother says is perfectly natural, but I fully expect long tusks to take their place so she may feast on our entrails. Her "teacher" claims Zoe is an excellent student. And if wishes were reindeer, I would never hunger again. Zoe revels in torturing the other two smaller children, dragging them from room to room so they can have something they call tea parties, (but which my research indicates is a political party based upon fear and mutual suspicion of outsiders). I have yet to be taken to one of these propaganda rallies, but will report back once this happens. She is the children's leader, and a more sinister megalomaniac I have yet to encounter. She may make a fine ally in our cause if we can find suitable blackmail material.

The one known as Willa is dangerous. She is much smarter than children of her age group should be, which confirms your suspicions that she might be a genetically altered elf sent by your mortal enemy Claus to prevent us from going forward with Krampusnacht. Her minders at the reformatory they are taken to every morning have expressed satisfaction with her progress, which is code for "she will make an excellent destroyer of Krampus and his loyal legions." I have plans to deal with her as she sleeps, but each time I am foiled by her night terrors, something the mother also claims is natural. These human children are very, very strange creatures, and should be treated as immediate threats to our survival. Willa will need to be monitored, but she is wily, and we would be best served to simply prepare for her inevitable future domination of the world.

The halfway house the one called Alexa spends her days at is nothing short of a torture chamber. Lots of small children running around, wiping nose excrement on one another and coughing into one another’s ears. The illnesses she returns home with! I have never been so feverish. She delights in playing with the other little monsters in attendance, even going so far as to befriend them. Sickening. But she seems to enjoy this bonding with others, and has a maniacal laugh that even you would find delightful. Like her sisters, she will make an excellent ally to our cause, but we will need to bribe her with something, like M&M’s, which are small candy coated chocolates. Claus enjoys these treats as well, which may mean he has a better chance of recruiting her. We should intervene before he has this opportunity.

Which brings us to the mother. She demands that the children refer to her as "Mommy" or "Mom" or "Lord High Executioner." After she abandons them at the hellmouth—or “preschool” as she deems it—she heads off to her place of business. She claims it is a medical office and that she is some kind of doctor, though I have my doubts. Any medicine she practices is one of the dark arts, possibly witchcraft or demon sorcery. I have tried on multiple occasions to follow her so I may observe her Wiccan ways, but I have yet to escape the feebleness of my mouse body. At home she demands obedience from the three children and punishes insolence with her sickeningly sweet words of encouragement. A fiercer evil I do not know. Her "cuddling" and "snuggling" terrify me in ways no other potential human interaction has in my storied career.

Then there is the father. A more useless lump of coal I have yet to meet in my four-hundred and eighty-seven years. He delights in raising the children from their slumber in the wee hours of the morning, forcing them to consume something the humans call yogurt, then cramming them into delightful outfits of their own choosing that he says "look ridiculous" but to my keen eye appear to be excellent camouflage for the environment at the detention center. I've no idea how he spends his days. Most likely in congress with Claus and his other elves, plotting our demise. The look in his eyes...I tell you, sire, he is not right in the head. A lunatic parading around as a buffoon, fooling no one and confusing everyone. I've heard him speaking on his communication device to someone whose codename is "The Pharmacist," discussing unspeakable things involving kidney stones (a primitive weapon) and migraines (some kind of mind altering magic I've yet to encounter in my travels). He is a rube, but a dangerous one. When Krampusnacht comes, he should be the first to be dealt with, lest he reveal his true self and destroy us all. Dispatching him will not be easy, as he is fast for his size, and his skill at something called "tickling" is second to none. I have witnessed the children fall prey to his maniacal fingers on more than one occasion, and I would wish this torture on no one, demon or human.

My only solace in this purgatory are my thrice-weekly meditations in the small hours of the morning, when I am able to flee the confines of the basement and feast upon the cereal that is kept in the cupboard. But it is becoming more difficult. I fear the adult humans are becoming wise to my presence, and they periodically lay traps for me to become entombed in. I fear it will not be long before they discover my treachery.

Please, I beg of thee, commence Krampusnacht immediately, before they discover me. I'm scared.

Yours in the eternal punishment of wayward children,

Möpse von Hodensack