The smoke from the cabin's chimney was whipped away, lost in the snowstorm that had been raging since the previous evening. A warm flickering glow was barely visible through the small windows, the only source of warmth visible in the forest.

  Inside the cabin, Jack was lazing on a ramshackle bed, aimlessly whittling away at a piece of firewood that he'd taken from the ample stockpile. His phone and tablet lay discarded on a table nearby, alongside the remains of his supper - baked beans and some bullied beef from a can.

  This was certainly not how he'd been planning to spend the weekend at his folks house - it was Spring, for crying out loud! What had started out as an invigorating hike on the sunny Saturday morning before had quickly gone downhill, with clouds gathering - seemingly out of nowhere - late in the afternoon; and the temperature plummeting to a level that was most certainly not appropriate for this time of year.

  Fortunately he hadn't been too far from the cabin where he'd already been planning to spend the night when the snow started, so he'd managed to pick up his pace and reach it long before sundown. Thanks to the inclement weather the already spotty cell phone coverage had dropped to nothing, so he couldn't even let his parents know about his situation.

  He wasn't due home for a few days so no one would be worried about him yet. And Jack himself wasn't too concerned, since he'd often go hiking for up to a week in these woods, and knew the cabin would have a decent supply of firewood, water, and tinned goods.

  Eventually boredom and tiredness caught up to him, so he threw a few more large logs into the fireplace, brushed the wood shavings off the bed and soon drifted off to sleep. With any luck the unseasonal blizzard would have blown over by the next morning and he could be off again, a day behind schedule but otherwise none the worse for wear…

  Jack slept fitfully, the howling wind and an occasional snap from the fire almost waking him. Deep into the night, the wind suddenly died down leaving the cabin in an eerie silence. The fire was burning quite low, the infrequent hiss and snap accompanied by a burst of embers caused by damp in the wood.

  Crack!

  Jack was startled half awake by the sound of splintering wood but wrote it off as a nearby tree succumbing to the weight of snow, and turned over and pulled the covers up to be more snug.

  CRACK!

  This time the sound was far louder and felt closer! Had something fallen onto the cabin? Jack glanced at the ceiling, barely visible in the fading light of the waning fire. Through blurry eyes he could barely make out a few out of place lines that could be signs of damage to the roof. He rubbed them, hoping to get a clearer look at what he might be dealing with, before looking at the same spot again. No cracks? No damage? "I must have really been half asleep if I'm seeing things" he thought to himself.

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  He lay back and stretched on the bed, planning to get up and rekindle the fire after working the cold out of his joints.

  CRRAACK!.

  Jack flailed around as the loudest noise yet forcibly dragged him into being fully awake. "Shit! Is the roof collapsing?" he said aloud as he realised he couldn't see anything. "Wait, why is it so dark all of a sudden?" he thought to himself. Then a more primal thought came to him - he was flailing around in the bed covers, but why couldn't he feel the bed under him?

  He couldn't put his finger on why, but that internal question had brought him fully to his senses, his heart racing. "Ok, calm down and think!" his inner Jack said. "If the roof has collapsed, it may have covered the fie or be blocking it, so of course it's going to be dark. It's freezing, but nothing’s hurting, so it seems to have missed me" he started rationalising the situation. Then primal Jack interjected with "...but why does it feel like I'm not lying on anything?"

  He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He strained his hearing, first trying to make sense of what he was hearing - which he soon realised was absolutely nothing, other than the slight thud, thud of his own heartbeat.

  Next, he opened his eyes and stared at where he thought the ceiling above him should be. Or at least what was left of it. He started to panic again, as he realised that - as with his hearing - there was nothing there to see. He slowly lowered his gaze and frowned as the covers he'd been flailing under came into sight. "Why can I see the covers if there is no light? Why can't I see anything else?" his stunned brain asked itself.

  He struggled briefly and freed his arms, which also looked like they were being illuminated by a full moon. "Okay, I can move my arms and feel my legs. Not paralised at least" he mumbled to himself. He moved his freed arms to the sides and down to where the bed must be. Nothing.

  "I must be dreaming"h e told himself. Yet it all felt so real! The texture of the covers, the biting cold, the feeling of movement when he clenched his fists. "Wakey wakey!" he thought.

  The hoped for awakening, safe and sound in the cosy cabin, failed to materialise. "WAKE UP!" he yelled, shockingly loud in the featureless, soundless void. Nothing.

  *Slap* In his rising panic his palm connected with his cheek with a bit more force than he'd intended. And it hurt. He wasn't supposed to feel this much pain in a dream, was he? His hand was aching as if it were truly freezing, and he could almost feel the palm print burning on his face.