"Weren't the Resurrectionists the main bad guys in that show last year?" Lindsay asked, confused.

"Yeah, Modern Myths." Jeannie replied. "Season 2 is gonna focus on the Slithers. I can't wait."

"In that show, they talked a lot more though." Greg said. "So you're telling me they are real and this pen can call them?"

He picked up the black writing utensil and turned it over in his hand. "It doesn't look all that special to me."

"Gimme that." Kim grunted and snatched the object out of his hand. With more force than was probably needed, she pulled the cap off, revealing the blood-red nib.

"Woah, it's so sharp." Lindsay blurted out. And indeed, the point looked more like a strangely shaped knife than the tip of a pen.

"Just like in the story." Kim grinned and put it back on.

"Of course they'll prepare a prop that matches their made-up story." Greg whispered, but everyone ignored him.

"I gotta say though, it majorly weirded me out that the dead chick had my name."

The Guide carefully plucked the pen from her hand and put it back on the table.

"An amusing coincidence, isn't it? Maybe we should inquire about our guests' names beforehand next year, so can arrange for more of these situations."

"It would certainly help the atmosphere." Angel noted before turning to Hanna. "Odd Gentleman....or, Strange Gentlewoman in your case, maybe..." The Mummy giggled for almost half a minute after that display of humor. Hanna, meanwhile, crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "...There are two objects left whose tales have not yet been told. You get the honor of being the last to choose."

Hanna looked down, studying both her options carefully.

"Fate has decreed that next shall be the blueish white marble thing. Because it's pretty."

The Guide laughed.

"Oh, a wonderful choice. And this one may even convince our little skeptic here because this story comes in the words of the person who has lived through it. Huddle up together, because it's going to get very cold soon...."

----------------- Bitter Sweet ------------------

Hello. My name is Natalie Eisner. That name might sound familiar to you. If it does, you probably know me from the news reports about a certain incident that happened three years ago. That incident is what I want to talk about today. If you read this, then that means I will be gone. Do not look for me. It's better this way.

I am writing this in the hopes that whoever reads this message will be able to understand. Understand what happened back then. Understand what has to happen now. I have never told anyone the full story. Even the police. This will be the first and only record of what truly happened on that day.

Everything began, like so many things in my life, with Elsie. Elsie was my best friend ever since kindergarten. We did everything together. Hell, we slept over at each other's apartments so often that our rooms were half-filled with the other's stuff. So of course, when the time came to move out on our own and take on the great adventure that is Adult Life, there was no question that we would share a flat. In fact, not living together wasn't even an option in our minds. That was just the natural flow of things. The way it had to be.

Elsie was very different from me. I liked to stay in and play dumb videogames, she loved going out and enjoying nature. She reveled in a sunny day while I was more comfortable in the rain. I despised the heat, she hated the cold. But despite that, we just connected. I couldn't even begin to imagine a life without her.

Due to our closeness, we often made concessions with how we spent our time. Whenever one of us really wanted to do something, the other would eventually relent and go with, even if they had little to no interest in whatever was going on. And so it was that time too.

Elsie had bothered me for months. For some reason, she had really fixated on seeing the mountains. Or any mountain, really. This was a frequent occurrence in our household. First, she wanted to go diving in the ocean, then see an actual medieval castle and now it was time for the mountains to have their share of the spotlight.

Of course, I said no. I even held on longer than usual. At least with the sea and her stupid castles, there were some enjoyable prospects for me. Swimming in the ocean. The novelty of seeing how people lived in the distant past. But mountaineering? All that came to mind was walking over difficult terrain for hours, camping in the ass end of nowhere, and being at the mercy of mother nature for longer than I was comfortable with. I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do less.

But Elsie was relentless. She even bought us matching jackets. These thick, fancy cold jackets with a million pockets where you could store tools or supplies. I was resolute, but even the Great Wall didn't manage to hold back the Mongols forever. So I gave in. Eventually, I gave in. I did.

I could tell you where we went. I could. But I don't think it's necessary. I'm very certain the incident won't repeat itself anytime soon, but why take the risk? If you are genuinely curious it won't take you any time at all to go look it up. Certain other events in the story will make it very clear to anyone with a passing knowledge of landmarks too. I advise against it, however. There is nothing there for you. There never will be.

I had managed to talk her out of a full-on climb. I was not interested in risking our lives more than we absolutely had to. So we agreed to a simple hike. As far up as we could safely go without any climbing equipment or a guide. Everything was meticulously planned out.

We would start at noon, at the foot of the mountain. From there we would take the scenic route up the trail until we reach The Spot at approximately 6PM. The Spot was the point at which it was time to turn around and go back. From The Spot, it would take us an additional two hours to reach a clearing in the forest below, where we would set up camp for the night. The next day we would make our way back to the starting point.

That was it. A simple, easy enough hike that let us see both the mountain and a bit of the forest. A nice little two-day trip. We didn't even have to take time off from work.

Looking back at everything, it's hard to say when exactly the Incident began. But our fate was sealed the moment we stepped foot on the path leading up that mountain.

It had been snowing in the region all week, and according to the weather report, that day would be no different. The sky was clear when we arrived, but the labor of the previous day's clouds had dressed the entire area in an admittedly beautiful pale-white coat.

Elsie was excitedly bouncing through the snow, dragging the groaning, moping blob of unexcitement that was me along by the hand. Every negative comment of mine, no matter how dreary or dark, she would somehow manage to put a lighthearted, positive spin on. I was grumbling the entire time, but if I am being honest with myself I did enjoy my time. I enjoyed every second.

Until we met the old woman.

She wasn't a fairytale witch or a cranky old hag, just a regular, nice-looking, small grandma. She was standing in front of a house, or maybe a cabin? No. No, I'm sure it was a house. It didn't look run down or dilapidated, but the snow had piled itself it up to the doorknob. The lady was desperately trying to shovel away the white debris blocking her entranceway with nothing but her hands, but it seemed to us like a futile effort.

Elsie, of course, immediately dragged us over to help her. We had prepared for many eventualities, one of which was us being snowed in. One of us more enthusiastic than the other, we pulled the small shovels we had bought for the trip out of our bags and cleared the front door of the house in no time flat. The old woman seemed overjoyed to have come across us. Her partially clouded eyes were still as vibrant as those of a teenager, and the gratitude within their debts was palpable.

She invited us in, and despite my misgivings, we accepted. Of course we did.

The inside turned out to be just as unspectacular as the outside. A normal, boring, unexceptional living room. We sat down, she made us tea and then we proceeded to have a nice chat. Just small talk, at first. But then.....

I have to admit that my memory of this part is a bit fuzzy. I find it very puzzling since the following events remain clear as ice to me even now. And with every year that passes, I find myself remembering more of this wretched day, instead of less. But this part....it remains foggy and distant. Though despite that there are some things I do remember.

She told us she was part of a big family. That we remind her of her own daughters. I think her name was Avia. But that may have also been the name of one of her relatives, or a pet. I just don't know anymore. I don't care, either.

She began telling us stories. I forgot how we got to this point, but we stayed there for at least an hour, listening to her talk. I cannot express how much I would like to retell those stories here. Her tales of the Ice and the Snow. The cold winds of Winter and the grand peaceful Frost. They were...happy stories, I think? Good ones. Intriguing. I have tried for the last 3 years to recall them, to recall at least one, but no matter how hard I try the words trickle out of my mind like grains of sand. For all that effort, the only thing I know is that I entered the old woman's home suspicious, upset, and dismissive, and left it feeling joyful and warm and even curious.

We only moved on when we did because I glanced at the wall clock by chance. I couldn't believe how much we got sidetracked. We had to hurry to still make it to the clearing before nightfall. I practically had to drag Elsie away, but the old woman understood and helped me to convince her.

Just as we were ready to go again though, she stopped us. She said she had a lot of fun today, and we were so nice and helpful that she couldn't let us leave without compensation. I was convinced she was going to give us some money or maybe a few bags of her tea, but instead, she emerged from her kitchen with two small leather pouches.

Elsie grabbed hers and immediately opened it up to check what we got. What she pulled from the pouch was a sphere. I wish I could be more descriptive, but there wasn't much else to it. I would say it was maybe a bit larger than a human eyeball in size. Not big enough to fit in on a pool table and not small enough to be mistaken for a toy marble.

It was strange. Beautiful, but strange. The thing seemed to be mostly clear, but specks of white twisted and turned inside of it, not unlike a snow globe that had been violently shaken. I opened my own pouch as well and sure enough, it was there. In fact, the thing was filled to the brim.

"What is it?" Elsie asked. "It's gorgeous."

The old woman gave us a warm chuckle and shook her head.

"These aren't for decoration, my dear. They belong in your stomach."

Elsie let out a loud "Ooooooh!" before dropping her sphere back into the sack. "So they're edible, then?"

This time she laughed out loud. "I would hope so, considering they are bonbons. Inedible bonbons would be quite a waste, don't you think?"

At this point, I was beginning to feel a bit strange about this whole situation. Not enough to dampen the good mood storytime put me in but enough to speak up about it.

"Why candy?" The old woman looked at me with a quizzical expression, so I elaborated. "Why give us candy? Seems a bit strange, doesn't it?"

Elsie came up to me and whispered something or other about "rude behavior" into my ear, but I wasn't really listening. I was focused on our host, whose smile grew wider.

"I made these myself, you see. It's a special family recipe. We're not supposed to share them around, but I thought they could maybe be of use to you. You have been so nice to me, it's the least a haggard old crone like me can do."

Now my BFF quickly changed position and switched from berating me to encouraging her. I, however, remained focused.

"Of use? How would sweets help with mountain climbing?"

Elsie stopped her waffling, and looked at me, then at the lady. She was curious too. The old bat wasted no time to explain.

"They help against the cold."

That was all she said. I tried to inquire further but it was soon clear that she was not going to elaborate. The rest of our short stay was uneventful. We said our goodbyes, put our sweet bags away, and left to explore the great wide wilderness.

The track up the mountain was far easier than I had feared. Maybe because we had good boots, or maybe because I spent hours reading up on that area beforehand, but for one reason or another I actually found our little trip enjoyable. You can believe me when I write that I was the most shocked of all about that revelation, and Elsie had one of her cute little freakouts when I told her.

The air was remarkably clean and the scenery was nicer than I had expected. Looking up photos online really doesn't compare to being there in person. Elsie was skipping merrily ahead most of the way, with me trailing a few feet behind inspecting every inch of our surroundings for potentially dangerous animals. I never saw one. A dangerous one, that is.

Now and then I would spot a fox or a rabbit or a couple of birds flying around, and then we would stop and watch them for a while. Elsie held on to my arm and rattled off her borderline encyclopedic knowledge about whatever cute critter we had in our sights while I was pretending to be bored and annoyed.

It's funny. Back then we did everything together. But still, our minds were always occupied with something else. Work. Family. Other Friends. Even at the beach, we were rushing to have as much fun as our limited time allowed.

That walk up the mountain was the first time in a long while that we were actually, really alone together. We talked for what felt like an eternity, but not just shallow babbling about this and that. An actual, honest-to-goodness conversation instead of meaningless small talk.

Even during the stretches where we just concentrated on making progress things didn't become stilted or awkward. The silence was comforting. Comfortable. I had seen Elsie smile countless times, hell, a smile was basically her default expression, hardwired into her programming. But on that hike, I saw her truly happy.

The snow began to fall when we reached the halfway point. We had chosen the path we did because almost exactly halfway up there was supposed to be an easily spottable landmark. Supposedly, decades ago, a Hero and a Villain had a big fight in the air above the forest.

The website didn't give the full details, but apparently, the Hero had been knocked down right here, creating a small crater. He had used his ability to grow a large tree inside of it to snap at and entangle his enemy. In response, the Villain used her own power to turn the newly formed hardwood into obsidian.

And sure enough, stretching into the sky above us, branches curled as if reaching for something above, stood a smooth, glossy black tree. I had never felt comfortable around people who could do this kind of thing. The Heroes too. It was scary. Are they even human anymore? Really human?

I don't know.

But what I do know is that, like it or not, that thing sure was visible enough to work as a point of orientation.

Elsie, of course, ran up to it immediately and began touching and prodding at the thing. I would've told her to cool it a bit, but I was a bit more preoccupied with the weather. Snowfall had been announced for today, but according to the weather girl, it wasn't supposed to happen until we made our way to the clearing.

Since we just reached the tree we should have been only walking for three hours or so. Did we really lose that much time staring at animals and having our lunch? The less visibility we had the easier it would be to get lost, and I hope you were able to deduce from what I have written so far that neither of us was any kind of survival expert. I quickly urged Elsie to keep moving, and after making about a dozen too many tree selfies she reluctantly agreed.

All in all, it didn't turn out as bad as I feared it would. Yes, it was a bit harder to keep track of where we needed to go, and the chilly wind had picked up quite a bit, but we soldiered on and made good progress. Unlike before, Elsie had started staying really close to me soon after the snow began to fall. I flicked her playfully against the nose and said something about personal space.

As a retort, she started pouting like a 12-year-old who just got told she was not going to get an advance on her allowance this month. "But it's cooooooold!"

I laughed and shook my head. "Coming here was your idea, so you deal with it. Try thinking warm thoughts."

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Hearing me dismiss her she grumbled out a "Meanie" before hurrying a few feet ahead of me like before. We continued walking like that for a minute, maybe 2 when she suddenly stopped in her tracks and fumbled around in her pockets. I asked what she was doing when she pulled out one of the round, transparent sweets.

"The nice old gal said they help with the cold, right? I'm cold, so why not?" She shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world to take a complete stranger at face value. I shook my head. I remember groaning inwardly about her naivete like I did oh so regularly back then. She urged me to take one as well, but I declined as politely as I could muster.

I think she swallowed it in one gulp. I think that because after she put it in her mouth I saw her shiver, more intensely than she did before, for just a second, before she addressed me again, voice clear and mouth empty.

"It worked. I can't feel the cold anymore."

That's all she said before trotting onwards.

I was a bit perplexed at her curtness, and quickly scrambled to keep up. But no matter how much I hurried along, how fast I went, she didn't seem to get any closer. She didn't get much farther either. Whenever I lost too much ground, or lost sight of her, she would stop and wait. Then, when I was at whatever distance she deemed acceptable she would begin walking again.

I wasn't concerned at this point. Well, not about her. Mostly annoyed. It's not like she stopped talking to me. She would make her usual Elsie observations, her usual Elsie banter, etc. She no longer stopped for animals, but that was because we didn't come across any anymore. Not that I noticed that back then. I figured she was finally cashing in on me being a rude bitch all trip and giving me a taste of my own medicine. It was known to happen. Not often, but sometimes.

What I was really worried about at that time was the weather. The forecast had announced mild snowfall, and that's what happened at first. But as we hiked further up the mountain it began to rapidly increase in intensity. First, it was just the amount of snow. Then the wind picked up too.

At some point, I called out to Elsie. I yelled at her to stop. That we had to turn around. But she couldn't hear me. Hell, I couldn't hear myself. The wind was so strong I had to lower my head just to be able to keep my eyes open. And no matter how loud I screamed, all I could hear was the air rushing past my ears.

Of course, I lost sight of Elsie too at this point. From all the memories of that bitterly cold day, this is one of the ones I like to remember the least. I was at odds with myself. You have to keep in mind, dear reader, that I have never been a brave person. In fact, "abject coward" is probably the most fitting descriptor. And in that moment, I was really, actually terrified. Perhaps for the first time in my life. I was not familiar with this area. I was in the middle of nowhere, in the bitter cold, in a snowstorm so bad I couldn't tell left from right. I'm a city girl. Born and bred. I didn't belong out there. Still, I can't help but feel ashamed...

I was considering running away. Turning around and running backward as far as my legs could carry me. Without Elsie. In fact, I had half turned already before I came to my senses. Even then it took me longer than I want to admit to get moving again. Forward again.

Maybe the storm would subside again soon. Maybe there was nothing to worry about. But if it didn't...?.If it didn't and I stayed, we may both die. Lost in the snow, freezing to death. I may catch up to her, and we could huddle up. Wait it out. Both survive.

And if I left? I may find my way back. Possibly. Or I may get lost anyway and die regardless. But if the storm went on and I abandoned her I knew Elsie would die for sure. She was even less suited to wilderness survival than I was. There was no doubt in my mind.

It was this thought that finally got me going again. I trudged forward as fast as I reasonably could, but the pace felt sluggish. I looked around for any sign of her. Any at all. Maybe her footprints. But a look back destroyed these hopes. Whatever prints I myself left behind were filled back in by fresh snow within seconds. And if I stood still for a minute or so my feet would be buried in white. There was no way for me to pick up on any trail to lead me back to my friend. So I just walked on.

I don't know how long I wandered around in that stormy field of blinding white. I can't even say "It felt like hours" because I have honestly no recollection of it. It is difficult to tell the passage of time when everything around you looks the same and nothing happens.

No matter how long it took, eventually, I began to see something in the distance. I had no idea what it could have been, but I was also running out of options, so I changed course. What I had seen turned out to be a veritable blessing. Before me was a solid wall of rock. This was probably the area where determined adrenaline junkies transitioned from "Mountain Hiking" to "Mountain Climbing". In all likelihood this The Spot, or somewhere near it, where we were supposed to turn back at and make our way down to the clearing.

But it was not that that was a blessing. The blessing was the large opening in that wall. I hesitate to call it a cave, because it didn't go deeper than four or five feet, but....it was protection from the elements. The wind, at least. I gathered all the strength I had left within me and ran, if you could call it running, to relative safety.

When I arrived I found out that I was even luckier than I had initially thought. Within that small rock shelter were the remains of a campfire. A small circle of stones, a few pieces of charred wood, and a clump of ash in the middle. I knelt down to feel it and it was cold. Probably not from that day. But the leftovers were still big enough for another round. I fished around the many pockets of my coat until I found the lighter we had packed. Within a few minutes, I was sitting in front of a small flame.

Now that I was sitting still and relaxing I could feel the sting of the cold all over my face. I huddled closer to the fire and closed my eyes. I only intended to rest them for a bit, but before I knew it I fell into a deep sleep.

I cannot recall the dream I had then, but it must've been some kind of nightmare because I awoke with a scream. The fire had gone out, but once I took a look around to orient myself the fire lost all of its relevance to me.

Near the opening of the small shelter stood Elsie. I only saw her from behind, but I recognized her immediately. Her hair and outfit were white with snow, but she seemed unbothered by it. I whispered her name hoarsely and scrambled to my feet. I was so happy. So happy to have her back. I just wanted to grab her, crush her in one of the bearhugs she loved so much, and never let her go. But as soon as I got to my feet, she spoke.

"Look. The weather has calmed down. We should go on now. We're almost there."

And then she left.

I was stunned for a moment, but quickly caught myself and ran after her. When I emerged back into the wilderness I saw she was right. Somewhat. The visibility was still miserable and the snow fell just as fast as it did before. But the wind....the wind was gone. I didn't have time to contemplate it though. I was determined not to lose sight of Elsie again. No matter the circumstances.

The lack of wind made maneuvering the white wasteland much, much easier, but I still had no idea where we were in relation to anything else. Elsie seemed to, though. Like before, whenever I fell too far behind, she would stop and wait for me. And when I caught up she walked confidently forward, not even bothering to look around or change course.

I had so many questions. I was so confused. But my screaming during the storm had affected my voice something fierce. I could barely understand myself, the scratchiness rendering anything I said nearly unintelligible. And it hurt too. So I kept my mouth shut for the most part. I just followed Elsie.

She talked to me. The whole way. About the beauty of the mountain. About the beach vacation we had. About the plans we made for the next couple of days. The trek was exhausting. I was then, and am still now, convinced that we walked for days. I would force myself forward until I couldn't anymore. Until I was ready to collapse. And whenever that happened Elsie would fall back, take me by the hand, and lead me somewhere.

I panicked when I first saw where. With her excited humming, she dragged me into a small cave. And in that cave was that same circle of stones with the same charred pieces of wood left over from my fire. Barely enough for another one.

I stumbled backward into Elsie's arms, pointing at the ashy stones, and cried. Did we go in a circle? Did we walk all this way for nothing?

I think I was about to break down. But Elsie reassured me. She hugged me tighter to her chest and gently swayed.

"Ssssshhhh. It's okay. You're safe here. You will always be safe with me. I'll protect you."

These words really shouldn't have worked. The thought of Elsie, of all people, protecting me from anything was laughable. Usually, it was the other way around. But for some reason, they did. I felt safe. I felt secure. She whispered in my ear to go to sleep now. To conserve energy. And I did.

I woke up next to the unlit fire. The ashpile was bigger now and the last pieces of wood were gone. Again, Elsie stood near the entrance, back turned to me.

"Let's go. We're almost there."

Unlike last time, the weather hadn't changed a bit. My water bottles ran out the night before, but that wasn't a big problem. Elsie had filled them up with snow and laid them next to the fire while I slept. I was surprised she had thought of that. The more pressing concern was food. Elsie had carried the bag with our supplies for the one night we intended to stay out here, but it was absent when she first found me in the cave.

My voice was doing a bit better, so I asked her where it was. She just told me she lost it in the storm. That seemed about right. A very Elsie thing to do. But still concerning. My worries were brushed off whenever I brought them up, however. She would shake her head and say "Don't worry about the food. We're almost there."

In the beginning, I asked her "Where?" I asked her every time she said it. When we first reunited I thought she meant the clearing, or the parking lot, or maybe even a Ranger Station she stumbled across. But it was evident now that this was not the case. Every time I asked she would giggle and laugh it off. Not a weird, or creepy giggle. The same giggle she had every time I teased her or was being purposefully unreasonable.

So we kept walking. The snow kept falling. The wind stayed quiet.

Now and then I caught Elsie doing something strange. She would stop, dig around in her pockets, then keep going. She didn't do it often. I would guess there were hours between each stop. But they did happen. The first couple of times I was too far away to get a good eye on her, but the third time I was right behind her.

It was the bonbons. She took one out of her pocket, put it in her mouth, and swallowed it whole. I had completely forgotten about the things. Elsie must've noticed me staring because she spoke up.

"They help against the cold. You should really try them."

I declined. At this point, I think I was running on pure stubbornness. I had been against even accepting them, and I was desperate to be right about something. To have made a good decision. Logically, seeing as Elsie was neither shivering nor seemed uncomfortable at all, the claim that they helped against the cold was most likely true. And even though sweets weren't healthy, they were still food. Something to fill an empty stomach. But I couldn't. It seems exceptionally childish, and mentally taking myself back to that moment in time, it probably was, but I couldn't help myself.

Many, many hours later the scene repeated itself. Near unconscious from exhaustion and exposure to the freezing cold, I was taken by the hand and led back to the cave. I think I cried again. But I didn't make a fuss this time.

When I awoke, to my surprise, the fire was still burning. Just barely. I asked Elsie who got new firewood.

"Who do you think, silly?"

I asked her how. She pulled out the small survival knife we had each taken with us. I didn't bother arguing or asking further questions. I knew I wouldn't get an answer. I felt nothing but dread when I exited the rock shelter and saw the snow still falling. Elsie urged me onward.

"Come on. We're almost there."

I once again thought about just ditching Elsie. I feel no shame over these thoughts. Or much less, anyway. But it was pointless. Where before I had a general area we could be in my head, now I had no clue where on this godforsaken mountain we were. It was better to stick together. Even if your partner was being entirely unhelpful right now.

At this point, things start to blur together. Nothing changed. We walked through the endless landscape of snow, minute after minute, hour after hour. When I got too tired to go on, I was led back to that damn cave to sleep. And when I awoke it began again. After each bout of sleep, we made less and less progress, if we made any at all. Not because of Elsie, but because of me. The vague pangs of hunger grew into a persistent ache, then into a violent pain. Elsie had to stop more and more often to wait for me, but she didn't seem to mind. Encouraging me to keep going. Assuring me again and again we were almost there.

I don't know when exactly it happened. After the fifth or sixth sleep maybe. I was barely able to walk. As I stumbled forward I bumped right into Elsie. She had stopped again.

"I can see lights in the distance." She sounded excited. "It's not much longer now."

We kept going. I wanted to be hopeful. I wanted to believe her. So I gathered the remaining strength in my body and hurried forward. Hurried, so Elsie wouldn't have to stop so much to wait for me. I tried to keep an eye out for the lights she had mentioned. But I saw nothing. Just the endless white expanse. To my great horror, I could feel the wind picking up again. First softly, then gradually harder. I cried out for Elsie and she stopped. She didn't look at me, but she grabbed my outstretched hand and held it tight.

The storm came back with a vengeance. Every step became a battle in its own right. Elsie said something. Something I couldn't make out, so I dragged myself closer.

"Can you hear the music? It's beautiful."

That was the last thing I heard before my legs gave out. I expected a soft fall due to the snow but the ground was hard and uncompromising. I must've somehow landed on the pouch of sweets in my pocket because I could feel something shatter beneath me. A few round, shiny spheres rolled out from under me and came to a standstill in the snow.

"Get up. We're so close."

Despite the howling wind, I could hear Elsie clearly. Her voice was soft and gentle. But sad, too.

"I want us to go together. Please."

I tried. I tried to get up. I did. But my muscles wouldn't move. I didn't even have enough strength left to turn my head. I cried again, but my tears froze the second they surfaced. I apologized. Over and over. I was sure this was the end. I was going to die here.

I saw Elsie's legs appear in my field of vision. Then something fell to the ground. It took me a while to register that it was one of her gloves. She knelt down and cupped my cheek. Her hand was cold, hard, and stiff. It hurt. But I still leaned in. I tried to look up. To look Elsie in the face one last time. But it was futile. I felt a pair of cracked, frozen lips touch my forehead, and then everything went dark.

I woke up in the hospital two weeks later. Two weeks after we first arrived at the mountain, that is. I was told that I had been found unconscious just a few minutes away from the obsidian tree. There was an unexpected snowstorm that day. It raged for approximately four hours. Another pair of hikers found me lying face down in the snow after it had stopped. I was almost completely buried. But when they dug me out they found that I was covered with another winter coat on top of the one I was wearing. That second layer probably saved my life.

The news interviewed me about Elsie. I got a few very nice emails from people who saw that video. And a few who made fun of me because of the crying. The police told me they were going to get together a search party. A group of wilderness-based Heroes volunteered too. I told them I was grateful, but I knew they weren't going to find her.

My parents visited me in the hospital. The first time they cared about me in ages. They were very worried though. I guess I can't blame them. Elsie's parents visited too. Those visits were the ones I dreaded the most.

My stay was fairly short. They asked me about my malnutrition since I was only lost for four to five hours. I told them I had been trying to lose weight before the trip. They admonished me, but I was soon let go.

The first thing I did was go back. To the small house. A nice family lived there. Two parents and three kids. Said they were on a family trip during the day of the storm. I asked about a grandmother. They told me the rest of their relatives lived two states away. No housesitter either.

When I got my and Elsie's coats back and cleaned them out I was surprised when I found the small candy bag. It was the one I landed on. Most of the sweets had rolled, out but there were still some left. Two full bonbons and hundreds of tiny shards.

I have an old college friend. I won't name her, but she works in R&D at a prominent Magitech company. She also researches strange objects and artifacts as a hobby. I sent her one of the bonbons and a few of the shards. She came back to me a week later. She said she had no idea what these things were, but they were definitely not candy.

When I asked her to elaborate she told me they were designed to, and very effective at, sucking the heat from anything they touched once they came into contact with saliva. I asked what would happen if someone ate one. She said that the shards were probably okay to eat in moderation. Very unpleasant, but mostly harmless. But the full thing....according to her tests, as soon as it touches your tongue, you're dead. There is nothing that can be done.

She urged me to tell her how I got them, but I just thanked her and hung up. Immediately after, I picked up one of the tiny pieces and threw it in my mouth. The explosion of sweetness was accompanied by a thorough shock of cold. I.....wasn't a fan. So I took the bag and stuffed it deep into my closet. I tried my best not to think about this revelation any further. Just move on, and let it slip out of my mind.

For a while, I attempted to go back to my old life. As much as I could. Everything I usually did with Elsie I tried to do with one of my other friends. But it was quickly proving itself to be a meaningless effort. So eventually I just stopped going out at all. People were worried at first, but they soon got the memo. The only people I still had regular contact with were Elsie's parents. I could never brush them off.

That was my life for a year. A monotone slog with little joy to speak of. It was on the first anniversary of that day when I looked outside and saw it was snowing. It had been snowing for a few days already, but that day it stirred something within me. I slowly walked over to my closet and dug out the bag. While looking out at the busy street I took another shard of the shattered sweet and placed it on my tongue.

This time I felt it. The warmth Elsie spoke of. It felt amazing. Soothing. And for an hour or so the snowfall outside became heavier. I would like to say that this was it. That I had done enough to sate my curiosity and got rid of the rest of the sweet mayhem in my bag. But I didn't. Instead, it became a tradition of sorts. A routine.

Whenever it would snow outside, I would sit at the window and indulge in the sweet warmth the shards gave me. I would think about Elsie. About how I should've just gotten up back then and gone with her. How I was too much of a coward to ever tell her how I felt. How it was too late now.

Eventually, one shard just wasn't enough. Every snowfall I would take more. Two, then four, then six, then ten. And the effect became that much stronger every time. Gradually, the snowfall would grow stronger, and eventually, the wind picked up as well. It was when I first took 11 at once, and put them in my tea, that the visibility drained away. I sat at my window, staring into an endless expanse of white for hours, and when it went away, when the snow stopped and the street returned, I was shocked that barely a minute had passed. Shocked, but not deterred.

It was pretty soon after that that snowy days were the only ones I looked forward to. I thought about moving to a colder area. I thought about it a lot. But in the end, I couldn't. I just couldn't.

Thinking back to that day had once been a painful affair that I tried to avoid at all costs, but it had become commonplace now. I also found that the more snowy days passed the clearer my memories became. The visceral exhaustion and pain, the depth of feelings, exact words spoken, the bitter, bitter cold. And I cherished it all. Like I did all memories of Elsie.

Days became little more than doing the bare minimum at work and then sitting down at home and reminiscing, waiting for the next snow day. Sometimes I would lay in her bed. I never cleared her room out. I would've given her belongings to her parents if they ever asked me to, but they never did. I was glad about that.

One snowy winter night I could finally see them. The lights in the distance. At first, they were just random bright spots on the horizon but a couple of sweet sessions later I could make out what they were. A city. No, more like a town. I could see the bright, familiar shape of windows accentuated by spots I assumed were street lights.

It took 2 years to hear the music. Elsie was right. It is beautiful. The melodies are soothing and warm, yet still energetic. I tried to record it once but all I captured was white noise. Figures. As time went on the silhouette of the town became clearer and clearer, but never grew beyond shadows. There was singing too, in time. And laughter. Cheers. I could see outlines of people standing in front of these now-familiar buildings. They noticed me too, eventually. More and more, every time. They beckoned to me. They are different every time, except for one. One in particular is always staring at me from the same spot.

When I am really quiet I can hear her. Telling me how much she misses me. How she longs for me. How much fun we could have together, forever and ever.

That is the reason I am writing this document. It happened a year ago. I exhausted all of the splinters of the shattered bonbon. I was devastated. There was many a night where I sat near the window, the one remaining sweet in hand, ready to break it into pieces too. But I resisted.

Over this last year, I tried once again to readjust to a normal life. It was hard to find new friends as an adult, but I managed for a while. Even got myself a girlfriend. But all of that inevitably fell apart too. I think they all could sense it. The lack of passion. Drive. Joy.

And so we finally come to the present. Today. The forecast announced a snowy evening and I am pleased to say they were correct. I am currently sitting in front of my window, writing down my story, but I am not planning to just sit here and watch this time. As I am writing this the last piece of candy that contemptible hag gave me lies before me, fully intact, and I intend for it to remain that way.

I hope I have made clear to you, dear reader, why I must do what I'm going to do today. Do what I was too weak and stubborn to do back then. I don't ask you to agree, or even sympathize with me, just understand. If you do, then I beg you not to share this file with anyone. Keep it in your storage if you want, or just delete it, I don't care. But if you don't, then I would be very grateful to you if you passed it along to someone else.

If the worst comes to pass and these words are read by anyone who had the misfortune to know me personally, then I can only say I'm sorry. But please do not look for me. Where I go you can't follow. But don't grieve for me either. Because even though I left you, be reassured that I am happy and content with the person I love the most.

Out there, in the cold.

- Natalie Eisner