The Eternal Cold | Teen Ink

The Eternal Cold

May 18, 2018
By TheDeadDandy BRONZE, Oswego, Illinois
TheDeadDandy BRONZE, Oswego, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Those fluffy and white snowflakes were mocking her now, snagging her warmth in their slow descent from the roaring, grey mass of clouds above her. The growing mass of white was rising slowly but steadily from below, currently consuming her ankle region and slowly claiming her shins. The lady continued to trudge through the slush, trying to find her car in this snowstorm-turned-blizzard. She was fairly annoyed that today, of all days, her car would fail. Of course, it would when it began to snow, not when it was a nicer, warmer day; God forbid that should happen. She was on her commute home from work, currently in the stretch of woods outside of town, when her car had suddenly given out. She had gotten out quickly, trying to find what was wrong, which would have been easier if she knew what to even look for. So that was helpful. It was even greater that the light flurry that had begun at her work had now turned into a cascade of white and grey, which evidently made for unstable driving conditions and thus few were out and about, which truly helped her case. Her phone had been charging in her car on the trip home but was still dead. Thankfully she had spied a service sign before her car gave out; “Service Station: ½  mile.” Surely she could make that distance. Even with the weather, the gas station was close enough that it would be fine. She was wearing boots, she had a heavy and warm enough coat, and she did not have the patience to wait in her car, potentially all night. The annoyance felt as though it was radiating through her body, as both a source of heat and energy. She was going to get help as fast as humanly possible, even if it killed her, goddamnit.

While she had never truly been in the outskirts of town, in these woods, she felt that this absolute silence had to be abnormal. Winter or not, there would be at least some form of life out here with her. And yet, nothing. No noise besides the howling and whining wind. Not a single rustle of a bush, a twanging tree branch; nothing. No stray, left-­behind birds roamed above or on the trees. The forest was dead, no other evidence of life to be seen. With the snow blowing as hard as it was, there was still enough visibility for her to see some unearthed roots poking about, their appearance almost serpentine at a first glance. It was odd, though, with no life visible she still had a strange feeling, glancing into the woods every now and again as though something-­somethings­-were watching. She reasoned with herself that of course something would be watching; even if she couldn't see any animals, surely they’d be there. Somewhere. A twig snap reassured her pondering, even if it sounded close. The gas station popped into view sooner than she had expected, shocking herself as she realized she must’ve quickened her pace at some point, for some reason unbeknownst to her. At least she could call someone here, or perhaps the employees would be able to help her. Until she noticed the state of the windows to the small stone building were smashed, inwardly, with icy veins webbing across like a spider’s. A pale blue, neon sign was the only source of light present, weakly flickering the company’s name, casting the interior and exterior in a ghostly shade. The door, oddly enough, seemed fine; unlocked but unharmed. Everything screamed at her to stay away, but she needed a phone. She needed to just get in and get out, that’s all she had to do. Getting home was more important than runaway paranoia. She cautiously made her way inside, wary of possibly shattered glass, to view the entire small store in disarray. Several shelves full of bagged food and magazines were flipped, slammed across the room, their wares scattered in piles about the floor. The back ­room's door was slightly opened, perhaps by the gale now let in by the shattered windows. The counter stood in the left corner of the room, nearly parallel to the backroom except for the door being on the same wall the short side of the counter connected to. The cash register was completely unharmed, a small display screen still functioning despite being covered in a growing veil of frost. She crept across the room, careful to not step on any of the spilled bags of chips or other snack foods. She didn’t know why she was being so cautious to avoid making noise and approached the entrance to the counter, to see if any cashier there was in need of help, though this didn’t seem at all like a robbery or something. Resting behind the counter was a pile of ice chunks, varying in size and shape as well as each being a translucent powder-blue, clearly shattered apart from something. Out of the pieces of the pale white ice, a small, cylindrical part stuck out, as it had evidently rolled away from the other chunks. A shuffling from the back caught her attention, eyeing the door cautiously as she picked up the piece ­out of curiosity, she supposed, she really didn't know why. Not even three seconds after looking at the piece she immediately dropped it, a chill settling over her that was not a result of the cold. It was a finger. Tiny little veins, wrinkles, even chipped nails. The impact of the finger hitting the ground caused it to instantaneously shatter, the noise startling her out of the shocked daze. The faint shuffling noise in the back room immediately ceased, and without warning the temperature dropped, the light bulbs popping and shattering in a split second, glass raining down like snow. A low growl filled the air in the aftermath of the shattering, several more accompanying it as her visible breath become more and more short. It only took a single pair of icy, blue eyes to send her into a sprint.

The blinding white of the woods startled her vision after the dark interior of the service station, the snow providing very little solid footing in her haste. She could not afford to stop, to slow, to give the things behind her an advantage. Whatever was pursuing her had no problem with the slush, the roaring of the wind in her ear mixing with howling that sounded like scratching glass. She moved as fast as she could in her rush of adrenaline, the iciness of the forest ground never helping. She immediately had ran straight out of the gas station, straight into the woods. She shouldn't have left her car. She shouldn't have gone out in this storm to search for help. Perhaps then those creatures wouldn't have gotten to her sooner. Those wolves had gotten the best of her. She had tripped, the snow covering up serpent-like roots in the forest. The falsely pure, white of their coat and those intelligent, bright blue eyes were going to haunt her for the rest of her life, however long that would be. The air drastically dropped from its already chilly temperature into a harsh, frigid fog, quickly enveloping her in its freeze. The world slowed down to a mere crawl, the beasts just watching and staring with their unblinking, knowing, icy blue eyes; the only evidence of time still moving being the loud, weakening thump of her heart. That puncture wound that one of those mutts had left on her had gone from numb to radiating an odd heat; a feeling one could get from frostbitten limbs. That sensation was spreading quickly, feeling as though it was traveling through her veins, drawing nearer and nearer to her heart. Her head felt foggy; finding it hard to focus on anything besides the feeling of ice freezing her veins steadily. Suddenly a wolf was eye level with her-had she fallen?- getting only as close as about a foot away from her, its head now cocked to the side, watching with those crystalline eyes, the fangs and teeth now up in a Cheshire grin. Jagged, ice-like blue fangs were the last thing she saw before she felt extreme burning. And then nothing at all.


The author's comments:

Illinois winter sucks


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