Bloodstained Frost

The blizzard swirled around the hut, banging against the shutters, as they sat, huddled, by the dying fire.
“Why is it so cold?” Atticus shivered against his older sister.
“I don’t know Atticus, it just is.” She replied and pulled the young boy against her.
He was silent a moment, before asking, “Where are mother and father?” He thought of his parents as he watched the dying flames.
“They’ll be home soon, don’t worry.” Veril replied as she watched her brother.
“You said that yesterday, and the day before.” He paused a moment. “You said that last week. I want them to come back. I’m cold and hungry, yet they’re not here.” His voice cracked as he started to sob.
“They’ll be home soon, I promise.” Veril looked down at him, only to see tears running down his face. She felt like crying herself, but she knew she had to stay strong for her younger brother.
He looked up at her then, anger in his eyes. “Liar!” he shouted, “They’re never coming home because they’re dead!” He pushed himself up from the dusted floor and ran out into the screeching storm as Veril reached for him.
“Atticus!” she shouted, and followed him, only to see he had vanished into the swirling snow. She grabbed her cloak, and exited the hut, “Where are you?” She called, but it was swallowed up by the blizzard as it roared around her, whipping through her hair and cloak. She searched for a sign of movement, but nothing could be seen other than churning whiteness, a stark contrast against the darkness of the sky. She moved away from the hut, and the wind hit her from all directions.
She pulled the hood of her robe over her head, and moved in the direction of the forest, sure her brother had went there in refuge. She shivered as she wrapped her cloak tight around her body.
“Atticus! Come out now!” she paused, waiting for a reply, but no one answered. “We should go home, and sit by the fire, wait for mother and father.” Still, nothing.
Veril walked into the trees, the storm howling around her. Snow crunched beneath her feet as she searched the deciduous forest, hoping she might be able to see her brother, but there was no one around.
“Atticus!” She called out, but as before, no reply came. She walked father through the forest, the trees stripped of their leaves, making them look like long thorns, sharp enough to kill.
“I’m not playing games, Atticus.” She said, annoyed at her brother. “Come out now.”
Footsteps made Veril stop and turn, hope running through her as she saw a dark figure dart into the thicket of trees. Thinking it was her brother, she moved forward, only to realize it was nothing.
The sound of laughter sent a shiver up Veril’s spine, and she looked around, scared. “Atticus?” she said, uncertainty running through her veins, “Is that you?” The laugh came again, this time cold and dark.
Veril felt the ground around her, hoping to find something that could defend her, like a branch or old bone, but she couldn’t find anything. She felt around again, and her hand hit against something solid. It was a thick branch, the bark rough and cold in her palm.
“Who’s there?” She called, holding the branch out before her like a sword, trembling, “I have a weapon, and I’m not afraid to use it!” She warned feebly.
“Really?” A voice answered, amused, “Because you look very afraid.” Veril lifted the makeshift sword higher, looking around, cautious as the person laughed again.
That was when Veril froze, the branch still raised as she recognized the speaker. It was the voice of a boy she had met at the local village market, the same boy who had given her a free pastry when his father wasn’t looking, messy hair just shy of his eyes.
“S-show yourself!” She stammered, and he chuckled darkly.
“Why would I want to do that?” he asked, his voice filled with a cold menace, “Why would I do that?”
She moved back, not wanting to talk, but she knew she had to, who knew what would happen if she never. “Just do it.” She said, her voice trembling slightly.
He sighed before speaking, “Very well, dear.” His voice had changed into a woman’s voice, a woman she knew well.
“Mother?” she whispered.
“I’m here.” Her mother answered, and Veril paused, lowering the stick. It sounded like her mother, but the voice was off. Someone was mimicking her.
“No. Something’s not right about you. You… somethings not right.” Veril backed away, wanting to get out of there.
Something moved to Veril’s right, and she spun on her heel. She ran and the trees rushing past her, until she tripped over a tree root. Pain lanced through her ankle, and she looked down at her leg, the flesh already swelling.
Veril tried to stand up, only to fall again, gasping in pain, when she felt something touch her shoulder. She turned and started to back away, screaming. A face peered out at her from the white darkness, it’s features twisted in a demonic way, before it vanished, leaving Veril to stare at nothing.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she heard her brother’s childish laughter from above her. She shook her head, wanting it to be a dream, before looking up. Blood dripped onto the ground at her feet as she stared up into Atticus’s dead eyes, his face pale. A branch protruded from his mid-section, the branch fresh with blood.
“Like what you see?” Veril’s mother asked from behind her, and she whipped her head around to see her mother standing there, a smile on her face, although her eyes were full of pain and sorrow.
“What have you done?” Veril cried, and the thing cocked its head to the side.
“Nothing.” She opened her mouth, and hands reached out to grab Veril’s face, forcing her to look at a nearby tree.
She looked up and screamed at the sight of her mother. Her face was crystalized with bits of black and blue, the flesh decaying from frostbite. Her eyes were only bloody pits in a face of tight leathery skin, stretched thinly over pale bones. Veril watched a crow peck at the dead body, sitting on the branch that protruded from her mid-section. Chunks of auburn hair had been ripped from her mother’s scalp, leaving nothing but blood-crusted holes flecked with bits of snow.
“Don’t forget me, Veril.” The hands returned, colder than before, turning her head to face another tree. She looked up at the body that hung there, his face much like his wife’s. his dark beard had been peppered with snow, while his face was black and blue, his flesh decaying.
Veril looked away and hid in her hands, rocking back and forth. “This is all a dream…this is a dream.” She whispered, wanting the sudden nightmare to end. “This isn’t real. Wake up Veril, wake up.” She opened her eyes and looked up from her hands.
It wasn’t a dream, it was real. “Oh Veril. It is very real.” Someone said, the voice low and guttural. “Now it’s your turn.”
Veril felt herself lifted into the air and closed her eyes as she was spun around. “Open your eyes, dear.” The thing said, and her eyes flew wide to stare back at her mother. She tried to turn her head, but it was though she was paralyzed.
A noise escaped her as she was spun to face her father, his dead eyes watching her, before the creature finally turned her to face her little brother. She felt the tears roll down her cheeks as she was moved closer. She felt a sharp stab of pain run from her stomach, and looked down to watch the branch vanish through her. She cried out and turned back to stare at Atticus, his face close to hers.
“Veril.” He said, his voice barely audible, but she heard her name, and reached out to touch him, when she felt hands either side her head, turning her gaze away from her dead brother.
A grey face stared back at her, thin lips pulled back to reveal needle-like teeth. “Goodbye.” The creature said. Veril felt pain in her neck as the thing slowly twisted her head around.
The last thing Veril heard was the sound of snapping bones and guttural laughter as darkness took over her vision, the pain vanishing as though it never existed.