Best Served Cold

I opened my eyes. The wind was so cold that it stung.

It was a full blown blizzard out here, wherever here was. I trembled uncontrollably. I held my arms close to my body and tried rubbing them to give me warmth, but this only offered the most temporary of comforts.

How had I gotten here? It all seemed so surreal. It was a blur. Had I been here long?

Something big howled in the distance. I need to find shelter. I stumbled away through the ankle deep snow heading downhill. There was no way to tell which direction I was going in, there was enough light to see dimly. I looked skyward and saw only swirling whiteness with no sign of the sun. I could see maybe ten yards in every direction.

The ground became more level. There was a shape on the edge of my field of view, was it a person? I called out to the shape and it sprinted at me. I flinched back and shielded myself in a rather ineffective manner with my arms, I made a very un-masculine sound.

The shape grabbed me in what turned out to be a hug. It turned out to be a man in an eggshell tee shirt and khaki cargo shorts.

He told me his name, explained that he’d been here for an indeterminate amount of time. He said that he had died many times: frozen, been caught by creatures and torn to shreds, crushed beneath falling rocks, buried in an avalanche. Every time he died he just woke up alive again and lived it over again. It was always the same.

He told me that he had not seen another person in ages.

Something made a noise, it sounded close, frightening, inhuman. My new companion got quiet, he seemed scared. He looked around nervously. From out of the snowstorm a creature that was at least nine feet tall and almost invisible with its milk colored fur offering almost no contrast against the storm.

It picked up my new friend in one broad paw with what looked like seven fingers and a thumb, lifted his screaming figure to its toothy maw and efficiently bit his head in half just below the nose. The screaming stopped. The body hit the ground and twitched reflexively. I threw up.

There was plenty of contrast now as the white fur of the creature was drenched and matted with quickly freezing blood from its mouth to its navel. It turned to face me and it almost seemed to smile in this light.

It picked me up into the air by my left arm, I flailed and punched at the beast feebly. It caught my right arm in its paw and held me entirely off the ground by my wrists. The creature made a sound almost like laughter and then applied pressure, literally pulling my arms off.

I screamed in terror and agony as my right arm came away at the shoulder. The monster lowered me to the ground and put one foot on my chest as leverage to tug my other arm off. I felt myself quickly bleed out in the snow.

It was a terrible feeling too because when we are wounded, there is a desire to cradle the wounded bit. When both arms are gone, it’s quite hellish. I closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes. The wind was so cold that it stung.

I quickly felt both of my arms, flexing them, moving them in their full range of motion. It had seemed so real. Something big howled somewhere nearby.

I ran blindly through the snow. No specific direction, just away, I had to get away. My mind wandered for a moment, a memory.

I was in a room with my associate. We were arguing. We had just published a co-authored paper on the complexities of communicating with extra-planar entities.

He wanted to have my research on the name of the one that we collectively referred to as The Great One, he wanted to work a ritual to banish The Great One to oblivion; to seal Him into the nether realms.

I disagreed, The Great One had given us His blessings. We were indebted to Him and He deserved our worship and devotion.

I told him that his help would be invaluable in my work to give The Great One what He desired most. My associate called me a cowardly fool, he told me that I was trying to play god and that I would get what I had coming to me. I told him to leave my home.

My mind returned to the cold. That terrible howl sounded again, close behind me.

I turned to look. There was a shadow closing on me in the murky fog. I backed away from it and not looking where I was going I backed right off the edge of a steep, icy crevasse.

I slid down, down, down and the space grew narrower as I picked up speed. I felt bones shatter and organs rupture with vivid detail as I suddenly came to a stop pressed from both sides in an icy embrace.

I gurgled and choked on the blood that began pouring out of my mouth in the dim darkness. I closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes. The wind was so cold that it stung.

I felt myself with my hands, wiped my mouth to check for blood; I was in perfect health. I was quickly becoming sick of this.

Something big howled nearby. I left at a trot again in an aimless direction.

Another memory. I was at dinner with a girl, had I helped or hindered her? I tried to order my thoughts but it was all a jumble.

I was a boy, not quite twelve, I had suffered from polio since I was five years old. My legs were in braces, I walked only with difficulty.

I had started to have difficulty breathing. They put me in an iron lung. The doctors said that I would likely not survive to see my next birthday.

Day after day spent studying a porcelain bowl that was stored near me. There was nothing else interesting in my room to look at. Days went by between visits from my mother and friends. It was hell.

One day, I had a dream and in the dream I met the Great One, his black horns polished, his skin red.

He gave me the offer of life or death. I chose life.

The doctors called my recovery a miracle. I was out of the hospital within a week and a week after that I was out of my leg braces. I learned how to run again.

I taught myself to meditate and commune with the Great One, he taught me many wonderful and terrible things. He wanted our faith, belief, and loyalty; but more than that, he wanted a physical form with which to conquer and rule the physical world. This had evaded him for so long. The ritual was as terrible as it was cruel.

I snapped back to reality when my footing slipped out from under me and I fell flat on my back. This did not kill me, but it knocked the wind out of me for several seconds. I found that I had run out onto what appeared to be a frozen pond. It went in every direction like standing atop a mirror.

I got to my hands and knees. I saw my reflection. I examined my pasty skin that was pallid from the cold and exertion. The tattoo of a bull on my neck looked back at me menacingly.

I remembered that I got a tattoo of The Great One to symbolize my devotion to Him.

I also needed a reminder that every time I was given the ability to look in a mirror, it was because of the gift that the Great One had given me. I hated that tattoo. It had led me to this nightmarish predicament.

Suddenly, my face split in half. The ice I was kneeling on began to spiderweb apart.

I held totally still hoping that would limit the fragility of the ice. I slowly shifted my weight backwards, trying to make it back to land. The ice of the pond gave way and I plunged into the cold water.

This was, by far, the most pleasant way to die so far. At first I was frantically trying to find the hole in the ice and the plentiful air that enveloped that side of the pond. Everything burned like I was on fire. I pounded on the ice in a futile effort.

Just like that, everything went numb. When I could no longer stand the pressure from my empty lungs, I inhaled a breath of the water. It was not altogether unpleasant. I suddenly felt warm. I closed my eyes.

I opened my eyes. The wind was so cold that it stung.

I was dry. Something big howled nearby. I screamed defiantly back at it. More howling voices sounded around me in a terrible chorus.

I thought of the girl with the bluebird tattoo, my prodigy. I hoped that she would wise up and burn the book I’d given her.

I heard footsteps behind me. I closed my eyes.

This piece was written for the "Long Thaw" challenge. This story was written in one night. This is the seventh part in an eight part series. You can read them in order here on Vocal.

In order: "The Barn", "Dinner and Diary", "The Package on the Table", "The Field Where They Found Him", “The Iron Bull”, and "One Wrong Turn".

Look forward to the conclusion in Chapter 8, "Given Life" in a few days.