Chapter One
Shadow's & Flames
As I wiped down the bar, the last remnants of laughter and clinking glasses slowly ebbed into the night. I flicked off the neon sign, plunging the room into shadows, signaling the end of yet another day. Taking a deep breath, I shouldered my bag and stepped out into the crisp night air, the city’s quiet streets starkly contrasting with the warmth I had just left behind. The familiar lock clicks behind me usually brought a sense of closure. But tonight, something felt different.
Something strange happened at the bar tonight: Our boss, Carlisle, seemed to come into contact with someone and then disappear into the office. It was weird, but he didn’t come back out of the office. His car was gone, so perhaps he vanished through the back of the bar, but I had no care in the world regarding my boss. That man was a complete prick and would occasionally disappear anyway while the server and I, and the cooks, were drowning in tickets and orders. If he didn’t disappear from us, he would usually be off drinking with the patrons.
If only the owners knew what kind of human being Carlisle was. Nevertheless, he was still my boss. Granted, I was paid tips as a bartender, but I didn’t need him. We were able to run this little bar by ourselves, and we have done so numerous times. It was just strange—Carlisle was not himself tonight. He seemed the complete opposite today. He appeared on edge and... fearful.
“What a different sight it was of him,” I muttered as I walked down the road alone. The moon above me was bright and glistening on the snow surrounding me as I trudged. Another winter night in Glacia, a small town high in the mountains. A very peaceful town and I have been living here my entire life. The strong gusts of wind occasionally sent shudders down my spine, chilling me quickly. I was used to it, growing up with my father, who occasionally took me on his hunting trips. My mother grew a garden in our backyard as best she could during the spring and summer. We did a lot of ‘living off the land.’ They were terrific people.
However, as much as I would love to, tonight was not a night to reminisce about them. Something was off. A prickling sensation danced along my spine, an intuitive whisper that I wasn’t alone. With each step towards home, the empty streets seemed to watch me, and the soft patter of my footsteps was echoed by another set, faint but unmistakably there. My heart quickened; the comforting weight of the keys in my hand now felt like the only tether to safety in the vast, night ahead.
I quickened my pace, trying to shake off the unease that clung to me like a shadow. Every flicker of movement in my peripheral vision made me jump; every whisper of the wind sounded like hushed voices. I told myself it was just my imagination getting the best of me, a side effect of too many late nights spent in the quiet company of the bar. But the feeling of being watched and followed grew more robust with each step.
I glanced over my shoulder, trying to glimpse whoever might be lurking in the darkness. Still, the street behind me remained empty, bathed in the pale, unreliable light of the street lamps. My heartbeat drummed in my ears, a relentless reminder of my vulnerability.
The logical part of me wanted to dismiss the fear, to chalk it up to tiredness and the eerie quiet of the night. But then, I heard a distinct sound of footsteps, measured and deliberate, not just an echo of my own but someone else’s. My breath caught in my throat. The safety of my home suddenly seemed miles away, an unreachable haven.
With a surge of adrenaline, I made a decision. I wouldn’t let fear paralyze me. Clutching my keys tighter, I turned a corner sharply, hoping to lose my unseen follower in the maze of the trees toward my home. The air felt colder as I moved, every sense heightened, every shadow a potential threat. I knew I had to keep moving, stay alert, and, most importantly, trust my instincts that were screaming at me to flee from the unseen danger lurking just out of sight.
Eventually, I made it closer to home. Still, when something vital hit my nostrils, I froze in terror and gazed around the area. The snow was not the pristine white I was used to; instead, it held footprints and the thing I feared the most seeing here—blood. Perhaps a hunter had come by? Hell, if I was being followed, maybe someone was hurt and needed help!!
I turned around when I summoned enough courage to see if someone was there. Gazing through the darkness of the trees, I saw nothing but wavering shadows from the moon shining down on us. I had never encountered any danger while making it home, but tonight, everything was off. I was genuinely scared but even more scared of someone who may be hurt.
“Help!” I heard a voice scream from behind my home. “Someone, is there anyone there?”
I gasped as I quickly hurried to the back of my house, wondering where the voice came from. The trail of blood was leading down the hill. Did someone get trapped in one of our bear traps? Oh, that would be the absolute worst idea that could’ve happened. My fear level rose as I followed the trail of blood. With the unsettling feeling of being followed still clinging to me, I decided to veer off my usual path home. My feet carried me towards a landmark I knew well, a place that always seemed to stand as a beacon of solace in my mind—Abigail’s Tree. The large, venerable tree sat on a patch of land in the middle of a lake, accessible only by a series of stepping stones that jutted out from the water like the spine of some ancient creature.
As I descended the hill that led towards the lake, the air seemed to grow even colder, the night more oppressive. The sensation of being pursued had not diminished; if anything, it had grown more intense. Yet, what drove me forward now was not just the urge to escape my pursuer but a sudden, alarming addition to the night’s chorus—a scream. It sliced through the silence, sending shivers down my spine. It seemed to belong to the voice that yelled for help just a few minutes ago.
I couldn’t see much.
“Little Snow, where are you going?”
I froze in terror as the creepy voice whispered through the shadows, echoing over the winds that blew past me. I stared directly ahead at the large tree that sat on the base of the land. It wasn’t much further away, and that’s where the little screams for help came from. I tried to venture into it, but my body would not.
“Little Snow? Don’t be scared - I’m here to help you,” The voice whispered to me, and I felt a chill feeling behind me - much colder than what was surrounding me. A cold chill gripped my shoulders and forced me to stand still. My heart beat faster than I could imagine, my brain filled with questions and concerns about what was happening.
I was terrified, and the cold hand that gripped my shoulder sent so many different signals down my body. I couldn’t move my feet, but I knew something was there. With my other hand, as best I could, I slid it down my side to the pocket of my jacket and gripped a hand-made dagger my father gave me. This dagger meant a lot to me, and I swear to God, if this doesn’t do something, I guess I might as well count my stars now. With a tight and confident grip, I ripped it out of my pocket and turned around, slashing at the figure behind me.
“Ah, what the hell? How did that hit me?! You bitch!” The voice snarled at me.
I opened my eyes. To my horror, there was no resistance, no physical form to meet my desperate strike. Yet, the air seemed to ripple with the force of my movement, and a chilling sight followed—blood began to drip from mid-air as if my action had wounded an invisible entity. The sight was so unnerving, so beyond the realm of my understanding, that it reignited the primal urge to flee.
Without waiting to see what would happen next, I turned on my heel. I sprinted towards Abigail’s Tree, the snow beneath my feet crunching loudly in the otherwise silent night. My heart pounded in my chest, a frenzied drumbeat urging me on while my mind raced to understand what had just occurred. Whatever was pursuing me, it was clear now that it wasn’t merely human. Perhaps I was just imagining things? No, I couldn’t be. The cold and the pain I felt in my legs is real - the blood is real.
The cold air bit at my cheeks as I ran; each breath I took felt like a gulp of icy water. The snow slowed my pace, each step a monumental effort against the soft resistance. But fear lent me speed, propelling me forward with a desperation I had never known.
As I neared the tree, its massive form offered a beacon of hope, a landmark in the swirling chaos of the night. The tree stood tall and solitary, a silent witness to the ages and, now, to my flight. I didn’t dare look back, fearing what I might see—or worse, not see. My only thought was to reach the safety of the tree, to somehow use it as a shield against the nightmare that had torn its way into my reality.
Reaching the base of Abigail’s Tree, I pressed myself against its broad trunk, gasping for breath, my eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of my pursuer. The silence was oppressive, the earlier screams and the eerie voice a haunting memory that left me shivering more from fear than from the cold.
The hollow was empty, though. “H-hello?” I panted. As I leaned against the sturdy trunk of Abigail’s Tree, trying to steady my breath and calm my heart’s racing, I noticed something unusual about the roots. In my previous visits, I had always admired the tree for its majestic presence, its roots sprawling across the ground like the fingers of a giant, holding the earth in a tender embrace. But now, under the cloak of night and the shadow of fear, they appeared different—more menacing, almost like claws reaching out from the ground, grasping for something unseen. This tree seemed just massive now.
“Little Snow, I can smell you,” I heard the voice creeping through the shadows.
“Snow?” Another eerie voice sounded.
As I gazed around the tree, though, I saw nothing there.
“W-who’s there?” I whispered back to the surrounding tree roots. The only thing I could see was a slightly eerie glow above me, and I frowned.
“You can hear me?! Are you here to rescue me from the big scary-winged thing?” The small voice peeped.
I turned around, my gaze sweeping the shadowy expanse that stretched beyond the protective embrace of the tree’s roots. And that’s when I saw them—two bright blue eyes, shining like beacons at night. They hovered in the darkness, unattached to any form I could discern, their luminous gaze fixed intently upon me. I frowned and tried to creep closer - somehow, those eyes were more relaxing than whatever was following me.
The sight was both beautiful and terrifying. The eyes radiated a profound sadness, a depth of emotion that seemed almost palpable. Yet, there was also a glimmer of something else—hope, perhaps, or a plea for understanding. Time seemed to stand still then, and the world was reduced to the space between those eyes and myself.
The voice sounded again, this time clearer, though still soft as a whisper carried on the wind. “Help me,” it said, the words simple yet meaningful. The eyes did not waver; their gaze locked on mine as if I held the key to their salvation alone. “He’s coming,” it whispered. “I don’t want to go there. Please don’t make me go there.”
“Go where?”
“I’m getting warmer,” The shady voice echoed. “I smell two delicious souls ready to be taken.”
Souls?
I shook my head. The only thing that mattered was that I kept whatever this thing was safe - I felt as though I needed to. I noticed the slight shadow in the tree’s clutches as I approached. A shiver ran down my spine, a mixture of fear and a burgeoning sense of responsibility. Who—or what—was this being that sought my aid? And how had I seemingly become entangled in this mystery by chance?
Despite the myriad questions swirling through my mind, one thing was clear: I could not turn away. The eyes, the voice, the inexplicable connection I felt to them all pointed to a path I knew I must follow, wherever it might lead. “It’s okay,” I murmured, fear just barely shaking in my voice. My dagger held close to me.
“Don’t look at me, please, please don’t look at me,” The voice pleaded.
“What?” I replied, shocked. “I… I won’t,” I promised the tiny voice.
“I don’t want you to see what this monster did.”
“One marked prey, two marked prey… Three marked prey, all the marked prey,” The voice laughed loudly as it entered the tree’s roots.
My dagger was able to hit this thing once, but from what I could tell, it didn’t even have a body. It was just floating blood. A rush of cold air entered the tree, covering the roots with frost—it was so cold. My stomach twisted with fear, my palms sweaty, and I’m sure I looked like a hot mess. I came to a stop when I felt something behind me, a small but warm feeling from whoever was there.
“Now, shall we do this the easy or hard way? Little Snow?”
I bit my tongue, focused on the darkness ahead of me. There had to be something I could see through this twisting darkness. I could use the frost - yes - frost and shadows. Look for blood on the ground. My gaze scanned the ground before me, but it was useless. It was too dark to look for traces of blood - so back to step one. Looking through the white frost that stained the trees, my gaze quickly darted side to side, but that’s when something changed.
My entire surrounding atmosphere changed, and the air felt thick and heavy.
“My precious little souls, please come to me,” The voice begged us. “I don’t like to do too much damage to my prey,” The voice said, sounding it’s best to be desperate.
As I stood, held in the haunting gaze of the shadowy front, an oppressive weight began to settle over me. It was as if the shadows were thickening, becoming almost tangible in their density. This oppressive sensation was not merely physical; it carried a chilling, malevolent energy that seemed to seep into my very bones. The air around me grew colder, the night darker.
With the air feeling thicker, I swear I could feel my breath slow - almost as if there were no more air. The weight of the shadow’s magic was crushing, a suffocating blanket of darkness that threatened to snuff out the light within me. I struggled to breathe, each inhalation a battle against the invisible force that sought to claim me. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind, a frantic beat that matched the erratic pounding of my heart.
It was then that I realized I was not alone in this struggle. Beside me, the source of the blue eyes—a small, ethereal figure, barely visible against the backdrop of the night—was also ensnared by the demon’s magic. It was a soul, pure and luminous, yet now trembling under the weight of the shadow’s malevolence. The little blue body of a child seemed to look at me, its eyes a silent plea for help, for salvation from the dark force that had hunted it to this sacred place.
The dual realization that this shadow creature, whatever it was, had not only pursued me but also this innocent soul and that we were both now caught in its grasp ignited a fierce determination within me. The shadow’s magic sought to suffocate us, to extinguish the light that remained, but I knew I could not—would not—succumb to the darkness. With every fiber of my being, I fought against the oppressive force, drawing upon reserves of strength I hadn’t known I possessed. The battle was internal, a war of wills against the shadow magic, but it was also a fight for more than just my survival. It was a fight for the little soul beside me and against the darkness that threatened to consume us both.
With every ounce of willpower coursing through my veins, I fought to move my limbs, which felt encased in lead. The shadow’s magic was unrelenting, a suffocating force that seemed determined to crush my spirit. Yet, amidst the despair, a spark of defiance ignited within me. Clutched in my hand was a dagger, its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light of the ethereal blue eyes. This dagger had once wounded the shadow, a memory that fueled my resolve.
Drawing upon the last vestiges of my strength, I raised the dagger with a trembling hand. My aim was guided more by instinct than precision, a desperate bid to fend off the darkness that sought to consume us. With a cry that was part defiance, part plea, I hurled the dagger toward the menacing red eyes.
The effect was instantaneous. The shadow recoiled as if struck, its grip on me momentarily loosening. The oppressive weight that had threatened to crush me lifted, granting me a fleeting moment of respite. In that brief pause, the shadow’s voice, a sinister whisper that seemed to slither through the darkness, reached my ears. “You little bitch,” it hissed, a tone of amusement mingling with its malice. “You think to defy me with such feeble attempts? You know not the powers you meddle with.”
Before I could process the words, the world around me shifted violently. The brief moment of relief was shattered as the shadow’s magic surged with renewed ferocity. The ground beneath me seemed to vanish, and I was abruptly pulled from the protective embrace of the tree’s roots. My body was lifted into the air, drawn towards the tree’s center as if by some unseen force.
Then, there it was—a tangible manifestation of the shadow’s power. A hand, dark and ethereal, materialized around my neck. Its ironclad grip constricted my windpipe and lifted me higher off the ground. I gasped for air, my hands clawing futilely at the spectral fingers that encircled my throat. The red eyes bore into mine, gleaming with triumph and a hunger that knew no bounds.
Suspended in the air, the weight of the world pressing down on me, I realized the gravity of my situation. The shadow had been toying with me, and now, with its true power unleashed, I was utterly at its mercy. Desperation and fear mingled within me, a potent mix that threatened to overwhelm my senses. Yet, a flicker of hope remained even in the face of such overwhelming darkness. I knew I could not give in, not while the little soul and the promise of light still existed within this dire night.
I couldn’t help but feel the tears forming as I stared into those red eyes, but a smirk appeared on me instead. “I…. Bet….. You’re…. Ugly….” I spat, coughing up the courage to speak. If I was going down, let me go down with some verbiage. Right?
With a quick second, I saw the red eyes flare with anger, and a face flickered in and out of the shadowy embrace. I couldn’t make much of it as I felt my body going cold and limp from the lack of airflow. I tried to reach out with one of my hands clenched into a fist, but there was nothing in front of me to strike. I was scared for myself and this little blue thing that was here with me. Hopefully, the little blue thing could get away with all this creature’s focus on me.
That’s when the creature’s teeth appeared in the shadows. Now, all I could barely see in the swaying and fogginess of my vision was the bright red eyes and sharp white teeth grinning at me. Its gaze locked with mine as he spoke. “I finally found you, and you’re finally mine,” it muttered, its eerie voice a chilling caress against my ear. The words, though spoken darkly, reverberated through the very marrow of my bones, a declaration of ownership that filled me with a dread so profound it threatened to snuff out the fragile flame of hope within me.
As the shadow’s proclamation echoed in the dark, the grip around my neck tightened momentarily before it released me. I fell, the ground rushing up to meet me, only to be caught by the same ethereal hand that had ensnared my throat. But this time, its touch was different—purposeful and precise.
The shadow’s form coalesced into something more tangible, its hand moving almost surgically. I felt a searing pain first on my side, then down my arm—a pain so intense that it felt as though my very soul was being branded. I cried out, not just from the physical torment but from the realization of what this pain signified. The shadow was marking me, claiming me as its prey in a manner that could not be undone. The pain eventually subsided, leaving behind a raw, burning sensation that seemed to pulse with the shadow’s malevolent energy. I dared not look at the marks, fearful of what seeing them might do to the last vestiges of my willpower. Yet, even as despair threatened to engulf me, the memory of the dagger’s effect on the shadow—a memory now seemingly distant—flickered within me, a reminder that this creature was not invincible.
The agony was overwhelming, drawing a guttural scream from the depths of my being. Though I yearned to call out for help, to plead with anyone who might hear me, my cries came silently, a desperate plea that echoed only within the confines of my own mind. The marks burned on my skin, a tangible reminder of the shadow’s claim, each pulse of pain a dark chorus that seemed to whisper, “You are mine.”
Struggling against the despair that threatened to consume me, I fought to maintain a semblance of hope, even as the shadow loomed larger, its presence a suffocating blanket over my essence. My silent pleas for help continued as a beacon of defiance against the overwhelming darkness in these darkest moments.
I felt dizzy at the moment, and I could hear squeals of fear from the blue creature behind me. My eyes felt heavy as they began to shut. My gaze focused past the red eyes and white grin on the little dagger behind him—the one that I threw at him. It was... glowing? It was a glowing orange color.
The shadow hurled me through the air with a sudden, violent force. My body, already teetering on the brink of collapse, had no strength to resist. I crashed against a thicket of vines, the impact jarring every bone, every fiber of my being. Pain flared anew, a merciless tide that threatened to pull me under. The world spun, a dizzying whirl of shadows and light, until, at last, I lay sprawled on my back, breathless and broken.
Above me, the canopy of twisted tree roots formed a dark, impenetrable ceiling. Yet, amidst the oppressive gloom, something caught my eye—an orange glow, faint but unmistakable, reflecting off the roof of tree roots. It was not the light of the dagger this time but something far more ominous, more profound. The air seemed to thrum with power, the atmosphere charged with an anticipation I could neither understand nor escape.
“What the hell? Enoxon, did you open the damned portal?! How in the Nine Hells did you do that?!” A voice full of anger - but it was a comforting one. I’m unsure why, but something about it made me feel at ease.
“You think I did this? You’re the one who was dragging his claws against the ground from going into the port- Kurai, something’s happening.” A second voice, gentle and full of concern.
“Do you think I give a shit about what’s happening? I don’t care what happens in the mortal world! The concern is your dumbass opening this portal!”
“Silence, Kurai, and direct your gaze properly,” the second voice retorted with a hint of sass.
Kurai? I questioned as the voices began to fade out.
Lying there, I watched the glow grow, transforming into a magnificent vortex of incandescent flames. The earth quaked beneath me, and the air turned blisteringly hot, and the vines that had broken my fall now recoiled, animated by the intense heat. A blend of admiration and fear took hold as I realized I was witnessing the opening of Hell’s Portal, a doorway to the unknown.
From this fiery maelstrom emerged a towering and majestic figure outlined against the inferno, ensconced in flames that danced yet did not harm. Despite their imposing aura, confusion was writ large upon their visage. Their gaze swept across the shadowed underbrush, the lurking darkness. Finally, it settled on me—the unintended summoner, battered and sprawled.
“Oh shit, it’s a human - and a…. Soul? What the hell is happening?”
“What have you done?!” the shadow hissed in my direction, its voice quivering with disbelief and frustration. ‘How— how?! Gah,” it grumbled.
In an instant, the shadow lunged towards a diminutive blue figure against the wall, repelled by a blinding light that sent it recoiling. Our eyes met once more.
You’re already marked, Snow. We shall meet again soon. And with that, enveloped in a cloud of smoke, the shadow vanished, the orange light faded, and darkness swallowed everything.
Hey Everyone! DancerOfTime Here! I am rewriting what I've written throughout the first edition of "Winter Nights of Hell." I plan on making some major and minor changes. I will soon be deleting that story from my profile and continuing here. If you are interested, please toss a heart and follow, but moving on... I hope this is better for all of us and can kind of... Well, I guess push things together better. But it'll help me and you all. I'm sure the first was great, but they say that authors typically rewrite stuff over time. ^_^ And I want to make some changes. Thank you so much for understanding!
Anyway, here's our first image of our protagonist - Snow!
