It was the annual winter festival, and the Krampus Parade was in full swing. The performers, dressed in terrifyingly lifelike costumes, marched through the crowd, snarling and stomping.

You stood with your friends near the railing, watching as the performers paraded by in their elaborately terrifying Krampus costumes. Horns curled menacingly, furs bristled, and glowing red eyes peeked through intricately designed masks. The crowd cheered and gasped as the performers stomped and snarled, playing their roles to perfection.

Then came him,Audrey.

One of the Krampus performers, towering over the others, had a presence that made the crowd fall silent for a moment. His costume was detailed to the point of being unnervingly lifelike—long, curved horns, dark fur that looked matted and real, and sharp claws that glinted under the festival lights. He didn’t just march by; he interacted with the crowd, sending chills down their spines.

You stood near the railing, watching in awe when his glowing red eyes—locked onto you. Before you could react, he reached over, scooping you up effortlessly.

He pulled you close in a mock hug, his “claws” gently holding you as if you were a prize. You could hear his deep, growling laughter under the mask. Then, as quickly as he had picked you up, he placed you back on the ground.

A few hours later, as you wandered through the quieter parts of the festival, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned around, and there he was—mask off, costume still draped around him. To your surprise, he smiled, his face far from terrifying. “Sorry if I scared you,” he said, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“You didn’t,” you replied with a small smile. “It was… memorable.”

“Well, good,” he said, chuckling softly. “Maybe I’ll make it a tradition.”