🕯️ Krampusnacht in the Bunker
Filed under: Holiday Horrors, Bunker Life, Paranormal Maintenance
Prologue: A Chill in the Circuits
There’s a certain charge in the air every December — that blend of static, cinnamon, and impending existential dread that signals the holiday season in the Bunker. Bettie’s been stringing up what she calls “festive bio-luminescent flora,” which look suspiciously like carnivorous vines wearing tinsel.
Wraith, ever the pragmatist, keeps muttering about “fire hazards and ornamental inefficiency.”
And me? I’m hosting my annual Krampusnacht Movie Marathon.
Because while others toast cocoa and goodwill, I prefer to honor the one holiday spirit who gets things done.
Scene One: The Gathering of the Damned (and Mildly Annoyed)
The control room glows in soft candlelight (thanks to a short in the power relays). I’ve queued up my carefully curated evening:
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Rare Exports (2010) — for authenticity.
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A Christmas Horror Story (2015) — for educational value.
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Krampus (2015) — because Toni Collette is a national treasure.
Bettie appears with a pot of her signature “spirit tea” — one part Darjeeling, two parts something that hums faintly in the dark.
“It’s a blend that wards off bad energy,” she insists.
“Or invites it,” says Wraith, polishing his optics.
“Same difference,” I reply, and press PLAY.
Snow falls on the screen. The speakers crackle. The lights flicker.
The temperature drops several degrees.
Scene Two: Unscheduled Guest Appearance
The flickering deepens into a steady pulse — not quite a power failure, not quite… normal.
“Unidentified resonance,” says Wraith, his voice tightening.
“Frequency matches… bells.”
“The festive kind or the apocalyptic kind?” I ask.
“Both,” says Bettie, smiling like she’s been waiting all year for this.
From the far corridor comes a clank. Then a drag.
Metal on concrete. A slow, deliberate rhythm.
We freeze.
“Dale,” Wraith says, “did you modify the maintenance drones again?”
“Only cosmetically,” I say.
“Define cosmetically.”
“Antlers.”
Scene Three: Krampus.exe Has Entered the Chat
The door slides open with a groan that sounds almost like laughter.
In the glow of the TV, a shape looms — tall, horned, half-shadow, half-smoke.
Steam curls from its shoulders. Chains scrape across the floor.
A smell of burnt ozone and peppermint.
The thing looks at me.
“Naughty… data,” it rumbles, voice deep as static.
Wraith’s servos whine as he scans it.
“Impossible. Mythomechanical structure — hybrid analog manifestation.”
“You mean ghost with gears,” I say.
“Precisely.”
Bettie just raises her teacup. “Welcome to the party, dear.”
Scene Four: The Holiday Spirit Malfunctions
Wraith attempts to “reroute its moral algorithms” (his words, not mine).
I do the sensible thing — I grab my old VHS camcorder.
Red light on. Static everywhere. Perfect.
Through the viewfinder, the creature flickers — its form stuttering like old film stock.
It lunges.
The lights blow.
Chains spark.
Bettie throws the tea (which might’ve been holy water in a past life).
Wraith slams a switch on the console — a surge of raw power arcs across the room.
The Krampus-construct convulses, then collapses in a burst of red and gold sparks.
Smoke rises. The smell of pine and melted vinyl fills the air.
Scene Five: Aftermath and Ashes
Silence.
Only the faint hum of Wraith’s systems rebooting.
Bettie dusts soot from her gloves. “Well. That was festive.”
Wraith glares — or as much as a brass automaton can. “You invited it.”
“We celebrated it,” I correct.
“There’s a difference?”
“Not in this house.”
On the floor lies a pile of scorched tinsel, a melted VHS label reading simply: NAUGHTY LIST.
I rewind the tape — it’s blank. Of course.
Epilogue: Entry from the Bunker Log
Wraith’s Maintenance Report 12/05/25
Phenomenon classified as “Mythomechanical Entity, Type III.”
Recommend increased folklore shielding during December.
Possible contamination of festive circuitry detected.
Bettie’s already sketching “improvements” for next year’s decorations.
I, meanwhile, am saving the melted VHS tape for my next review series:
“When Christmas Movies Attack.”
Closing Note from Barry
If you hear chains clattering in your attic tonight —
it’s probably the wind.
If it’s not…
offer tea.
Sometimes the old stories just want to be remembered.
Tags:
Krampus, Holiday Horror, Bunker Life, Dale T. Doll, Professor Wraith, Bettie’s Herbarium, Steampunk Gothic, Christmas Horror, VHS Vault
Tagline:
“Every legend begins as a power surge.”
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