The woman had told me about fifteen minutes, but it couldn't have been more than five or six before I stopped to rest, breathing hard. It's so quiet without the snow crunching beneath my sneakers. I can hear my blood pounding through my veins, and the feeling of being watched creeps up and down my spine. I glance all around. Even though it's night, there are so many stars, that everything is enveloped in a bright mystical glow. The snow on the trees glimmers, and I feel like things are just waiting behind each looming shadow. Waiting to gobble me up.

I hold the cloak closed, clutching my knife tight, glancing every which way. The biting cold moves across my face every time the wind blows, tugging loose snow from the trees. My snot is turning into icicles. My lips feel numb. I feel like my eyeballs are gonna freeze in my head.

My sneakers are a soggy mess. They're soaked all the way through even as they're freezing. I can't feel the bottom halves of my legs anymore. The snow's deep enough that I keep sinking to my knees. The cloak drags behind me, and I have to stomp and climb for every step forward. It's exhausting. I'm weak. I'm so out of shape it's insane. My thighs burn. My lungs are on fire. And all the while, my face and feet are freezing.

But I can't really complain, can I? I probably deserve this.

Whatever this is.

I force myself forward when I hear that haunting ghostly owl song again. Hoo-ooh-ooooooh... I'm propelled more by fear and curiosity than by any desire to survive. I want to know more about that beautiful woman who talks to a lizard that lives in her shadow. Who wears her shadow. Whose breath smells like pickles.

And the fact she says it's storming beyond the snowy woods... I have to see that for myself. It doesn’t make any sense to me.

If I hadn't met her, I probably would've curled up in the snow, staring at the beautiful stars as the frigid cold took over my body. Maybe I'd make a snow angel. Maybe I'd just hold myself till I passed out. I read that people who died of hypothermia felt extreme warmth at some point. It sounded cozy, like drifting off into blissful sleep. A part of me always wanted to experience that. Falling asleep so easily, so quietly. A soothing restful emptiness; it must be nice. Nice and quiet and serene. Just like the stars.

That would've been way less work than this. It snows in the city every winter. And it'll sometimes pile around this high, but usually, I'll have snow boots and layers of clothes and the teal scarf Jia knit me for Christmas one year. Or school would be canceled, and I'd just stay home reading or binge-watching or sleeping.

Snow crunches. I'm leaving a disastrous messy trail behind me that anything could follow. My jaws still ache from the woman's grip. Yet, I find myself wishing her hand was on my face, and I tell myself it's so I wouldn't be alone and cold. Why did she think I was an evil spirit? Why did her lizard want to eat me if I was?

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

This has to be a dream, right? I mean, mirrors don't eat people. How many times did Jia tell me that? It's like a bad joke. How many nightmares did I have about evil distorted shapes in the mirror? And now it’s true?

People don't just fall from an aurora! Strange women in the woods don't wear their shadows!

Is this it? Have I finally snapped? I'm crazy now, aren't I? I knew I should've seen a therapist or something.

Something howls, and it feels like it's right on top of me. My heart pounds, I stop again and turn every which way. Are there more shadow monsters? Evil spirits? I force myself to pick up the pace, kicking up even more snow, falling several times till my fingers and palms are red from the cold. And, just as I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, I hear it. The storm.

It's like one moment there was nothing but heavy silence, every single sound muted by the snow. The next, a barrage of drums. The rush of rain. The wind, and I realize that's what's howling between the trees. Thunder claps so loud, I cover my ears and nearly stab myself in the head with the knife.

A few feet ahead, I see the rain. Water sprays onto my face the closer I get. It's right at the edge of the woods. A wall of rain, like a heavy curtain. The snow beneath my feet gives way to grass, and I can smell and taste the rain. It's warm. There's warm air beyond the woods, and my brain can't reconcile this.

The trees at the very edge aren't covered in snow. The rain has rinsed them clean. The sky here is starlit and cloudless, but right ahead is a thick blanket of dark gray.

Sometimes in the city, you could be on the train. It might be raining in one neighborhood, and then a few stops later, it'll be sunny. But it was always kind of gradual. Natural. This just feels ridiculous. It's like I've found some edge of the world, staring into another world. The closer I get, the more I can see.

An ocean of grass lies ahead. Ripples run through like angry waves that shine brightly in flashes of lightning. Then a crack of thunder shatters the sky. I reach out with a hand, trembling. My fingers part through the curtain, like reaching into a raging waterfall, and suddenly it's raining on my knuckles.

Rainwater dribbles down my arm and drips from my elbow. The water is cool, not as cold as the snow, but cool in a refreshing way, and the wind batters my fingers like it's trying to tear them off my hand. It's crazy how the wind doesn't burst through into the woods, only its howling. Or is it singing? I could stand here forever. A lush rain falls on a part of me while I'm in a separate world of snow.

I step back, away from the storm, away from this new world, wondering how I might inhale in this one, surrounded by snow and tranquility, and exhale in the next, in the tumultuous weather. The sound of the storm muffles slightly when I move away, and that's when I hear it. That's when I break out of my trance and realize something large is moving through the snow behind me.

For a second, I think it might be the woman. Maybe she got that evil spirit already. Or maybe she changed her mind and wanted to make sure I got to her house safely. But then I remember she doesn't make a sound when she walks. She doesn't disturb the snow at all. And she definitely didn't squeak. I whip around to see a giant squirrel.

It stops, standing on its hind legs, cocking its rodent head, and eyeing me. Its fur is as white as the snow, and if I don't keep it in focus, it almost blends right in, enormous bushy tail and all.

But it's massive. And it's staring at me. And neither of us are moving. What are you supposed to do when faced with wildlife? Make yourself appear large and make as much noise as possible, right? Well, I’m tiny and useless, and staring at a squirrel bigger than any squirrel I’ve ever seen before. It's the size of a bear and it looks like it wants to eat me.