Krampus hated his job. He hated the cold, the dark, and the screams. He hated the smell of fear and the taste of tears. He hated the weight of the chains and the bite of the birch rods. He hated being the bad cop to St. Nicholas' good cop. He hated being the monster that children feared.
But he had no choice. He was bound by blood and fate to do his duty. He was the son of Hel, the Norse goddess of death, and the grandson of Loki, the trickster god. He was born to bring chaos and pain to the world. He was the embodiment of the winter solstice, the longest night of the year.
Every year, on the night of December 5, he would accompany St. Nicholas on his rounds, visiting the children of Central and Eastern Europe. St. Nicholas would reward the good children with gifts, while Krampus would punish the naughty ones with rods, chains, or worse. Some children he would beat, some he would drag to hell, and some he would eat. He did not enjoy it, but he did not question it. It was his duty, and he had to obey.
He had been doing this for centuries, and he had grown weary of it. He had seen the world change, and he had seen the children change. They were no longer afraid of him, or of anything. They were spoiled, selfish, and rude. They did not respect their elders, or their traditions. They did not believe in magic, or in gods. They only believed in themselves, and in their gadgets. They did not need Krampus to scare them, they needed Krampus to teach them.
So he decided to change his approach. He decided to be more creative, more cunning, and more cruel. He decided to use their own devices against them. He hacked their phones, their tablets, and their computers. He sent them messages, videos, and images. He made them see and hear things that were not there. He made them doubt their sanity, their identity, and their reality. He made them paranoid, anxious, and depressed. He made them suffer, not physically, but mentally.
He did not care if they learned their lesson, or if they became better people. He did not care if they cried, or begged, or apologized. He did not care if they hated him, or feared him, or loved him. He only cared about doing his job, not because he liked it, but because that was his duty.
He was Krampus, and he had a job to do.
A/N: Krampus being Hel's son is true in Norse Mythology, thus obviously making him Loki's grandson. Again, it's obvious.