It’s getting late, and the Winter Ball is in full swing. The ball is more like a party; people are drinking, exchanging presents, dancing even beyond the allotted dancing time period. Santa has surprisingly been the life of the party, handing out gifts left and right, and posing for pictures even with the most drunk guests. The president has outdone herself this time.
At the peak of the party, at ten pm, it’s time for the president to deliver her holiday speech. The city listens with rapt attention as she addresses them with thanks and well wishes.
"first and foremost i would like thank you all for coming, for braving the weather tonight and joining us in what i hope to become a holiday tradition for washington. as i’m sure most of you know, i am president leia organa, and it has been an honor to get to know as many as i can tonight, to hear your stories, know more about your lives. every bit of information helps me to become a better leader for all of you. this past year has been hard on us all, we as a community have braved so much, held each other up in times of struggle and i had wanted to give back to all of you, to show how deeply we appreciate each and every member of this city. the white house holds a par---”
But something strange happens, cutting Leia off mid-sentence. The lights flicker, the room darkens, and everyone can sense it. Something is off. Only a few people notice at first that the man who was playing Santa has suddenly slumped over. His suit looks darker, now, his beard less full, more scraggly. It’s almost impossible to tell that he’s breathing – his back goes up and down slowly, his whole body trembling. Someone even dares to step up to him, see what’s wrong – but they catch sight of his face and stop short.
Everyone looks around, nervous – at each other, at the president. They want an explanation, an assurance that the chill they’re all feeling just came from an open vent. A low, blood-chilling laugh, cruel and empty, echoes throughout the ballroom.
A loud thump on the rooftop.
The thing that once was Santa rises, tall and hooved, sunken eyes and skin stretched over a long, haunting frame. Its mouth is twisted into a grotesque smile, teeth crooked and pointed. Spindly hands and long, bony fingers stretched out from the sleeve of its dark, stained red robe.
Fear breaks out. Someone tries leaving by the doors, but they are locked. They try breaking the window, but everything bounces off them like they’re made of rubber. The temperature drops lower and lower. Krampus moves its way through the crowd, the only sound its footsteps as hoof meets marble. Anyone who tries to attack it is thrown back like a rag doll, lucky to be alive. It’s only a matter of time. Everyone must face it. Everyone’s time will come.
The White House is sealed. There is no escape.
Scattered throughout the grounds of the Presidential palace are the towns worst fears brought to life. They are impossible, horrifying, grotesque and twisted, but for this one night, they exist, and they are deadly.
It is up to you to survive tonight. Krampus will leave come morning light – will you walk free, stumble home in a horrified daze, holding your hand up against the bright sunlight, or will Washington D.C. be another snow globe in a collection of lost families and towns?