Dangers in the Cold

Ice crunched under John's heel, each step sounding much like a snapping bone. He blinked away thick snowflakes accumulating on his lashes, and tried to ignore the biting wind on his exposed flesh. The forest was unnaturally still, silenced by the thick layer of snow.

Though John's body was nearly numb, the smell of pine and sting of cold air in his lungs was a welcome change from the stuffiness of his jail cell. With any luck, he'd have a two hour head start before they noticed his empty bunk. His escape plan was working perfectly, even if he was certain to lose a toe to frostbite.

A golden glow appeared unexpectedly in the distance, its light reflecting off the surrounding snow. John quickened his pace and soon found a tiny cabin silhouetted against the night winter sky. A light on meant someone was home, but that had never been a problem before. A grin broke out across John's cracked lips as he approached. He was staying in that cabin tonight, no matter what.

There was no time for subtlety; not in this kind of cold. John ran full speed at the door, bouncing off when it failed to yield to his weight. Before he could try again, there was a loud CRACK! overhead. John looked up just in time to see a giant icicle falling straight at him.

His body was found by the cabin owner in the morning, half frozen, with the icicle still protruding from his neck.