Wicked Girl

miller and his wife had a son and daughter who were grown and overdue to be wed. The boy was handsome as the sun and the girl was beautiful as the moon, but both were lazy and ungovernable. Their names were Lukas and Liesl.

At the New Year, Lukas left open the door to the shed and mice got to the grain. On Easter Day Liesl blew out her eggs, and sent yolk flying down the back of the lord’s youngest son. Their parents said, be good, you wicked children! St. Nicholas will bring you switches and coal on his feast day! Lukas and Leisl laughed and did as they pleased. On Whit Monday Lucas chased dogs into the laundry. On the eve of the Assumption Liesl rang the town bells at midnight. Their parents said, be good, you wicked children! Krampus will beat you and take you to his lair! Lukas and Leisl laughed and did as they pleased.

On All Saint’s Day, the miller said to his wife, “It’s time to find a bride for Lukas and a husband for Liesl, so we can live in peace.” It was quickly settled. On the first of December, Luke would marry Wilda the woodsman’s daughter, and Brutus the butcher’s son would marry Liesl. The miller and his wife were happy and set themselves to planning the wedding.

Wilda was a friend to Liesl, but Lukas found her snobbish. Brutus was handsome and well liked, but Liesl knew he was stupid and cruel. Foe days, Lukas, Brutus, and the miller carried benches to the chapel to prepare for the wedding. Liesl and her mother embroidered Wilda’s fine wedding dirndl; Wilda sewed lace onto Liesl’s. When Lukas and Liesl crossed paths, the brother and sister smiled secretly. They would do as they pleased.

The wedding day came and Lukas and Liesl stood before the priest with their bride and groom. The priest took one step and scattered a pile of grain Lukas had left by the alter. He took another step and broke a dozen eggs Liesl had snuck into his robes. He took a third step and the town’s dogs ran barking into the chapel. The priest tried to speak, but the church bells rung and drowned out his voice. As Lukas and Liesl fled the alter, village children set off fireworks Liesl had gifted them. The priest leapt behind the alter in fright.

The brother and sister reached the back of the church and the doors flung open of their own accord. In stepped the cheery St. Nicholas and the half-goat demon Krampus. Lukas and Liesl stopped.

Krampus leapt forward, pointing at them. “These two wicked ones belong to me!” he announced.

Lukas fell to his knees. “Please!” He begged, “We are not so wicked!”

Krampus laughed and moved to shove them both in his filthy bag, but St. Nicholas restrained him. Krampus scowled at the kindly man but stepped back.

“Is it true, you let the mice get the grain?” Asked Krampus, leering at Lukas.

The boy blanched. “Forgive me!” He cried.

Liesl frowned. “It’s true he looked after the grain all winter, keeping it safe save for one day,” she said. Strudel the baker’s daughter, a plump cheerful girl with dark hair and eyes said, “It’s true! We always had flour enough to make the bread.”

St. Nicholas nodded and Krampus scowled. “Is it true, you covered a lord’s son in egg?” Asked Krampus, leering at Liesl.

Liesl crossed her arms. “It’s true I painted dozens of eggs for the children, and kept them happy and warm all day.” 

Dovetail the carpenter’s daughter, a shy awkward girl with ash-brown hair said, “It’s true! My father built a case to hold the eggs!” She blushed when the other guests turned towards her.

St Nicholas nodded and Krampus scowled. He advanced on Lukas. “Is it true you chased the dogs into the laundry?”

Lukas gasped and grimaced. “I meant no harm!” He insisted.

Liesl sighed impatiently. “The dogs were at the chickens. He chased them away and fixed the farmer’s coop!”

“It’s true!” cried Henni the farmer’s daughter, an auburn haired girl with dancing grey eyes. St. Nicholas nodded and Krampus screamed his vexation.

The demon turned on Liesl, furious at her answers. “Is it true you rang the church bells at midnight, waking all your neighbors?” he demanded.

“It’s true,” she admitted, failing to hide her smirk. “That was a bit of fun.” Krampus yelled in triumph. “BUT,” she continued, I gave out cider and we all danced until dawn.”

“It was the best night of summer!” said Wilda from her place beside Lukas. Wedding guests laughed, and they smiled at the memory.

St. Nicholas twinkled merrily but Krampus fumed. “I say this girl is wicked and the boy as well, and as wicked ones they still belong to me!” He added, “She may have clever retorts for a year of sins, but what of today’s ruined wedding?”

Liesl had no answer. Krampus cackled and went to shove them in his sack, but again St. Nicholas stopped him. 

“It is not yet my feast day,” said St. Nicholas. “They must be given a chance to redeem themselves.” He placed a large sack of grain in front of each of them. “Like you children, this good grain could be spoiled by the bad grain mixed in. You must separate the rotted grain from the clean. Finish your task by this time tomorrow, and perhaps you may be forgiven.” Lukas stared and Liesl frowned, and Krampus made one more try to snatch them. St. Nicholas gripped him by the neck, and dragged him outside down the church steps.

Lukas dumped his sack on the steps outside the doors. He and Liesl stared at the loose grain in dismay.

“I’ll never finish!” He said, but the miller and his wife rushed to his side and sat beside him. The three worked feverishly to find the rotted grain.

Liesl watched her brother and their parents, busy with Lukas’s grain. As the guests filed out of the church, she spotted Henni, the farmer’s daughter and had an idea.  

“May I feed your chickens?” She asked her friend.

The auburn haired girl was confused, but she helped Liesl drag her heavy sack of grain to the chicken coop. Liesl opened her sack and the chickens rushed inside, eating all the good grain and leaving the rotten.

Once the chickens were satisfied, Liesl closed them back in their coop. She carried home a much lighter sack. She slept soundly until the next morning.

At the appointed time, Liesl brought her sack to the church, arriving a moment before St. Nicholas and Krampus appeared. Lukas sat at the top of the steps before two piles of grain. He looked exhausted and their parents were half asleep just inside the church doors.

Krampus and St. Nicholas examined Lukas’s grain and saw that the good was apart from the rot. Not a single piece was out of place. “You have worked hard indeed to do this all your own!” exclaimed St. Nicholas. Liesl said nothing, for though Lukas had their parents help, still he had worked himself to exhaustion.

Even Krampus was impressed. “Perhaps you are not wicked after all,” he said grudgingly to the boy. 

Then St. Nicholas and Krampus turned to Liesl. “You look well rested,” sneered Krampus. “Did you give up? I’ll make you my bride, and only beat you once a day.”

She held out her sack. “You’ll not find a single grain of good.” 

St. Nicholas and Krampus looked inside the sack and had to admit it was true. “But where is the good grain?” asked St Nicholas.

“Separate inside the belly of some chickens,” Liesl answered. “You never said I had to keep it.”

St. Nicholas laughed, but Krampus took a green switch from his sack. He grabbed Liesl roughly by the arm and yanked her towards him. Krampus whipped her until she cried out, leaving welts up and down her legs. 

“You both need to do more to prove you are not wicked,” said Krampus. Lukas groaned. Liesl glared defiantly, still smarting from the lashing, and Krampus smiled, thinking how he would enjoy beating her every day. He cast a dozen eggs on the steps in front of each of them. The shells broke into a thousand pieces and the insides became a runny mess. “Fix these eggs by this time tomorrow and perhaps you may be forgiven.” He was still laughing at their helpless faces when St. Nicholas dragged him down the stairs.

The sleepy miller and his wife emerged from the church and crouched down to help Lukas with his broken eggs. On the street before the church Wilda stopped, watching them vainly trying to fix the eggs. A while later she returned with a small pot of sticky tree sap. Lukas brightened when he saw her coming up the steps. The girl sat beside him and glued the shells as he carefully put them in place.

On the street below, Brutus the butcher’s son pulled a cart with the carcass of a pig. Liesl called down to the boy, “help me fix my eggs and I’ll marry you.” 

“Not I,” he said. “If I marry you I’ll be dragged down to hell with you when you fail.”

“With your help, I won’t fail.” Brutus did not respond. He pulled his cart away.

The welts Krampus had left her burned Liesl’s skin. She looked at the broken eggs and had an idea. She walked to the carpenter’s shop.

Ashy haired Dovetail lent Liesl a chisel. Liesl pried up the church step where the eggs lay broken, and carried the stone carefully to her home. She put the step, eggs and all, on top the stove, and cooked it for an hour. Then she went to bed and slept soundly until the next morning. 

At the appointed time, Liesl returned to the church and replaced the step. St. Nicholas and Krampus appeared a moment later. Lukas held a dozen fragile eggs, every shell fragment carefully glued in place. The miller and his wife, and the woodsman’s daughter, stood half asleep just inside the church doors.

Krampus and St. Nicholas examined his eggs and saw that they were whole with not a single fragment out of place. “You have worked hard indeed to do this all on your own!” Exclaimed St. Nicholas. Liesl said nothing, for he had worked hard enough, and she could see Wilda had come to love him.

Even Krampus was impressed. “Perhaps you are not wicked after all,” he said grudgingly to the boy. 

St. Nicholas and Krampus turned to Liesl and her broken eggs. “You look well rested,” sneered Krampus. “Did you give up? I’ll make you my bride, and only beat you twice a day. If you don’t please me, I’ll devour you.”

Liesl tipped the step up flat. The egg stayed baked to its surface. “The eggs are broken,” she said, “and they are fixed to the step.” 

St. Nicholas chuckled, but Krampus roared with anger. He grabbed Liesl by the hair and bent her double. He pulled a thick stick from his sack and beat Liesl until she cried out, leaving bruises up and down her body. 

“You’ll both need to do more to prove you are not wicked,” Krampus said to Liesl and Lukas. Lukas groaned. Liesl glared defiantly, still aching from the beating. Krampus grinned, thinking how he’d enjoy beating her every day. 

St Nicholas waved his staff, and Lukas and Liesl each wore a Loden cape covered with a thousand bells. When they moved, the bells tinkled. “Silence the bells by this time tomorrow. If you run down the steps without a sound, you will be forgiven.” 

“If even one bell rings,” said Krampus, “I’ll take you to my lair forever.” Krampus leered at Liesl then turned, and St. Nicholas followed him down the church steps.

Lukas fell to the steps, bells jingling. “I am lost!” He cried. A sleepy Wilda emerged from the church. When she saw the bells and Lukas’s despair, she tore a strip of cloth from her skirt. Her skillful hands tied the rag around a tiny bell clapper to quiet it. Lukas tore a strip from his vest, and together they bent their heads over the thousand bells while the miller and his wife slept just inside the church doors.

Liesl’s bruises ached. At the bottom of the steps, dark eyed Strudel skipped around a wide patch of mud, carrying loaves to the store. Liesl had an idea.

Bells tinkled as Liesl walked down the steps and waded into the icy mud. She rolled around, covering her cloak with muck as curious townspeople walked past, staring. Then she climbed carefully to her feet and stood still for an hour, trying not to shiver as the mud dried into a hard ball inside each bell. Once she was dry she walked home. Not a single bell rang as she walked.

At home she carefully bundled the Loden cloak near the door. She went to bed and slept soundly until the next morning.

While Liesl slept, Krampus snuck down the chimney. He brought the cape to the well and rinsed the mud from the bells. Then he dried it over the fire, bundled it by the door, and left.

The next day at the appointed time Liesl carried the cloak to the church, arriving a moment before St. Nicholas and Krampus. Townspeople gathered at the bottom of the steps, to see what would become of them. Naked save for a few torn rags, Lukas and the Wilda huddled under his cape, asleep.  Krampus woke them with a kick. “I can see you’ve worked hard,” sneered Krampus, but you had help, and now you lay naked before the church. Why should I not take you both?” 

Lukas stood, helping Wilda to her feet. “We are to be wed on St. Nicholas’s feast day, two days hence,” he told Krampus. The woodsman’s daughter smiled proudly. Liesl smiled as well, happy for her brother and her friend.

St Nicholas beamed. Krampus snorted. St Nicholas said, “Let us see how you’ve managed your task.” Lukas wrapped his cloak around his betrothed, and together they ran down the steps. Each clapper was wrapped in cloth, and none so much as whispered as he moved. 

“I release you,” Krampus said grudgingly. “And wish you a joyful wedding.” The townspeople cheered the couple. They clapped Lukas on his back. 

St. Nicholas and Krampus turned to Liesl. “You look well rested,” smiled Krampus. “Are you ready to come to my lair? I’ll make you my bride, and only beat you whenever I please. If the mood strikes me, I’ll devour you.”

Liesl stared haughtily past him. “St. Nicholas said, “Let us see how you’ve managed your task.” Liesl swept the cloak around her shoulders. She made it three steps before she realized the bells rang out with each movement. 

Krampus cackled and St. Nicholas shook his head sadly. Tearing away the ringing Loden cape, Krampus pushed Liesl to her hands and knees. He beat her with a bundle of twigs until her skin was bleeding and raw beneath her clothes. “Tomorrow is my day!” He announced, letting the twigs scatter on the steps. “Tomorrow I will come for you, so see your wedding gown is ready!” St. Nicholas and Krampus marched down the steps and disappeared in a cloud of snow.  

“Lukas!” Cried Liesl. “Krampus will take me tomorrow!”

Lukas went to Liesl. “I won’t let him take you!” Lukas said stoutly. Emerging from the church, the miller and his wife nodded their agreement. Liesl was still worried, but they all walked home, excited for the upcoming wedding. 

Early next morning, Liesl found she was alone in the house. Lukas and their parents had gone to prepare for the wedding and St. Nicholas’s feast. When Liesl heard scuttling in the chimney, she grimly put on her bride’s gown and Loden cloak. She filled her dirndl pockets with charcoal from the stove.

Krampus emerged from the fireplace and grabbed Liesl, but Liesl jerked away. She took his bag and stepped in herself, defiant. Closing the bag around her, the demon grinned more widely. He bundled it up the chimney, laughing at the muffled sound of bells. 

The next day, at the appointed time, Lukas and his parents made ready to go to the church. They called for Liesl. When she didn’t answer, they realized Krampus had taken her. They went to the church with sadness in their heart, but it was St. Nicholas’s feast day and Lukas’s wedding, so they did their best to put it aside and be glad. When the woodsman’s daughter heard that they’d left Liesl to the demon, she was sad and angry. At first she refused to marry Lukas. Lukas wept, and she forgave him, for she did love him, and he she, but she was heartbroken.

The townspeople gathered, and St. Nicolas arrived riding a great white horse, large silver bells singing on the tack. He bounded up the church stairs, handing out oranges, nuts, sweets and small trinkets to the guests. Krampus followed on a massive black shaggy goat, cracking a fearsome whip in the air. He sprang from the goat and strode up the steps of the church, kicking anyone who stood in is way. He carried his filthy sack, and snarled at everyone who looked at him.

The guests settled inside the church. St. Nicholas sat with the miller and the miller’s wife. The priest went to the alter. Lukas and Wilda walked down the aisle towards the front of the church. All eyes followed them, but Krampus followed too. At a row near the back, Krampus stopped beside Dovetail. “My bride escaped,” said Krampus, “You look rude enough to hammer, so you can take her place!” And he shoved the carpenter’s daughter in his sack before she could say a word.

Lukas and Wilda made it a quarter of the way up the aisle. Krampus walked a few rows further, grabbing Strudel. “You look sweet,” said Krampus, “But you are probably spoiled and sour. You’re overdue to be a snack!” The baker’s daughter recoiled and Krampus shoved her into his sack. 

Lukas and Wilda were halfway down the aisle. Krampus stopped next to Henni. “Two wives are not enough!” He said to her, and the farmer’s daughter blinked at him. Krampus shoved her in his sack. “You’ll be delicious in my pot, or perhaps I’ll beat you tender before I pluck and scald you!” As the priest began to speak, Krampus dragged his bulging sack to the front and sat beside St. Nicholas. No one noticed the missing girls, and the priest wed Lukas and Wilda. 

Outside the church, Liesl dropped from where she’d been clinging to the goat’s saddle straps, hidden beneath its shaggy belly. Her cheeks were smeared with charcoal, her dirndl was burned and filthy, and she wore charred rags of the Loden cape. Liesl snatched the horse whip from the goat’s saddle and stomped up the steps.

On either side of the aisle, Liesl saw empty seats where her friends should have been sitting. Guests cheered the newly married couple, then quieted as Liesl approached the alter. Lukas and Wilda turned to her, shocked by her appearance. “Joy to you, Wilda,” Liesl said to the woodsman’s daughter. “I welcome you as my sister!” Heedless of how the soot dirtied her wedding gown, Wilda embraced her friend. Liesl turned and lashed Lukas once across the chest with the horse whip, doubled over in her hand. He cried out, and sat on the floor, then bowed his head. Liesl said, “Brother, I love you still.” She offered her hand, and Lukas took it, rising to his feet to embrace her. 

At last Krampus recognized her. “You!” He screamed, “you tricked me! I’ll beat you until I tire and have wives to spare once I’ve devoured you!” Krampus leapt for her, but his feet tangled in his overstuffed bag, and he sprawled across the stone floor instead. Liesl ignored the demon and spoke to her parents, who turned away in shame. Her mother wept and the miller covered his face. They both gasped when Liesl lashed them twice across the back with her doubled over whip. “I love you still,” she said, and she allowed them to embrace her. 

Krampus climbed to his feet, a bundle of sticks in one hand. Liesl released the tail of her whip. She sidestepped his grasping hand and lashed the whip across his arms. Krampus dropped the stick bundle. “I am not your wife,” Liesl told him. She cracked the whip and brought it down again, across the demon’s face and chest. “I may be wicked, but I do not belong to you.” The whip cut down across the beast’s shoulders as he howled. Liesl whipped him until he fell down groaning, then untied his sack. 

The girls stepped out of his bag one by one, russet, dark and ashen. They each picked up a stick from Krampus’s fallen bundle, and surrounded the demon, beating him as he lay on the ground screaming.

Finally Liesl turned to St. Nicholas, whip in hand and eyes blazing. St Nicholas stepped back hurriedly and put his hands up in surrender. She narrowed her eyes and pulled back the whip, but St. Nicholas patted his pockets, and offered her a square of chocolate.

Liesl accepted it with suspicion and examined it. It had a picture of a demon imprinted on the center. She stared at it, then smiled, and lowered her whip before devouring chocolate Krampus. Her eyes met St. Nicholas’s and they both twinkled merrily. The chocolate was buttery smooth and sweet. 

After Krampus was allowed to limp away, the wicked girls grabbed Lukas and Wilda by the hand. The guests followed as they ran from the church. They all feasted in celebration, and the girls kept them dancing until the night turned to day.

Lukas and Wilda lived a long happy life together, though Lukas missed his sister’s lively presence. Sometimes Wilda disappeared for a time. Lukas never knew where she went. 

The wicked girls traveled the world. All year long they made mischief where it was badly needed, pulled tricks on those who deserved it, and found celebrations to enliven and destroy- often both at the same time. The girls slept, worked and played. They would do as they pleased.

Each year on Krampus’ Night, Krampus finds the wicked girls. He beats them with switches or sticks or bundles of twigs and puts them in his bag. On St. Nicholas Day, the girls break free and they take the sticks and beat him back.

And every year come Christmas time, parents warn their naughty children. If they don’t behave, St. Nicholas may leave them coal or switches in their stockings. If they are too wicked, Krampus may whip them and take them away to his lair.

Parents never tell their children of the wicked girls, who come to punish adults who don’t play fair or have favorites.

So the children put out milk and cookies for Santa Claus, and after they’ve been tucked snug bed, their parents may set out a bit of sweet buttery chocolate. Just in case the wicked girls come. Because often as not, when the wicked girls come, they’ll decide it’s the parents who deserve a good whipping.

For some holiday spanking stories by other authors -go to Alyx’s Xmas Exchange