The howl of the wind.

The rattle of the windows.

The cold air slowly seeps through, fought by the raging flame of the fireplace.

The sensation of a warm cup in your hands, the steam slowly rising from the hot beverage.

The strong knock on the door...  

#

He put aside his warm cup of tea and got up from his seat leaving the warm comfort of his armchair next to the fire, his refuge, to answer the door.

Unlocking the door and then opening it, his face was bombarded by snow, and the wind chill immediately made his blood turn cold despite the multiple layers of clothing on him.

"Hey neighbor, can I crash at your place until this storm calms down a bit?" The man standing in the doorway asked. A scarf covered his face, but he could tell by the voice, despite the howling wind, that he knew the man.

“Yeah sure, come in.”

Upon entering the house, the man removed his scarf and woolen cap to reveal a familiar face.

“Good to see you Frank, how'd you find yourself in this damned blizzard?”

“Oh, long story. In short, the dog ran away again...”

“Again? Jesus, does that dog love the cold or what?”

“Can't tell you Mark, but she can be a handful sometimes. But she's fine, she's a husky after all. They're built for the cold.” He nodded.

“Right... Have a seat, I'll get you a cup of something warm if you want?” Mark said gesturing toward another armchair next to his own.

“No, I'll be fine. But thanks.” Frank replied before sitting down in the armchair.

Mark sat down as well, picking up his warm cup of tea, blowing into it, then having a sip.

“The weather's been unusual in the past couple of weeks. I ain't unfamiliar with the cold, but damn did the temperatures drop suddenly.” Mark commented before taking another sip.

“Nah, I've been here for a lot longer than you. And believe me, I've seen worse. But this is certainly in the ballpark if anything else.” Frank replied, his now naked hands rubbing each other to warm up.

“Yeah, I see where you're coming from... The disappearances in the last few weeks are odd as well. Maybe because of the weather. I remember a few years back it was similar to this, but not as bad. I'm sure you remember as well. But only one person had gone missing back then... Luckily they found the guy alive, just barely.” Mark said, putting his cup back down on the adjacent table.

“Yup, there had been disappearances. But believe me, some years people just get lucky. Some years tragedies just come one after another.” Frank replied.

“Three entire families had been found dead and frozen in the snow in the last two months... Something ain't right I tell you.” Mark said, leaning back into his armchair.

Frank looked at him, scratching his greying beard.

“What is it?” Mark said, confused.

“Oh... well, nothing, I just had a thought pop up.” Frank said, looking back to the fire.

“What'cha thinking?”

Frank replied with a sigh “What if, and bear with me, those three tragedies... Alongside the other missing persons are connected?”

Mark thought for a moment before replying.

“You want to say that these are murders? If yes who and why?”

“As I would know, I can't remember any murders in these parts during my lifetime, and no one has any motive from what I know of... Those crime novels are going into my head.” Frank said.

“Well, you might not be wrong for all I know. Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction. Those crime novels set in small towns like our own weren't written because someone just thought up a murder mystery in a small town in their head. They're inspired by real life events...” Mark said, grabbing his cup once more and having a sip.

“Huh, imagine that. Our little town in some crime novel. I would be surprised, to be honest, we barely make it on the local map, let alone making it on a best-selling novel.” Frank said with a chuckle.

“I wouldn't be surprised, actually. I've seen stranger things and I haven't been around as much as you. Well, I've lived in the capital for a few years while you haven't moved your ass out of this dump in the last century” Mark said.

Frank laughed, waving his hand “Kid, I've been around don't you worry. I've just been lucky enough to not be in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

“Well, if you don't place yourself in a situation where you could be in the wrong place and the wrong time. You won't have the chance to be in the right place and right time.” Mark retorted

“I see your point, but you can't really know if you're gonna be in the right or the wrong. We ain't the main characters of some movies or books. This is real life, and sometimes... Nothing happens, sometimes something does. That's life.” Frank replied.

“Well, we're the main characters of our own lives. There had been books written and movies made about people.” Mark said.

“Yes, now I would imagine you wouldn't want to be the main character of a crime novel...” Frank said, looking into the fire.

“You mean a murderer? Jesus, Frank. I'm not killing anyone any time soon, I could tell you that much.” Mark replied.

“You don't need to be the murderer, sometimes the main focus of the story doesn't revolve around the murderer or the investigator per se... But rather the victim. The one being murdered.” Frank said, looking at Mark with a grin on his face.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Mark felt something in the room change, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was a joke, yeah. But there was something off.

“Those crime novels are going into your head a bit too much, Frank.” Mark said.

Before Frank could reply, both heard something from the outside.

“Is that barking?” Mark asked.

“Sure as hell sounds like it.” Frank said, standing up from the armchair and walking toward the window.

Mark followed shortly thereafter. “It might be your dog.” Mark said.

“No, she doesn't sound like that... It might be a wolf. We should stay inside just in case.” Frank said.

“There haven't been any wolves around for a while, and if there were they aren't prowling around in a blizzard. Especially this one.” Mark said, looking out of the window. He could see nothing but the front porch that was illuminated by the interior lights. Anything beyond a few feet was black, with snow hampering the visibility even further.

“I can get my rifle, we don't need to go into the damn forest. Call for her or something.” Mark said.

After a few moments of thought “Alright, damn it. Let's go.” Frank replied.

Mark went to another room, grabbing his rifle. He checked the weapon first then quickly retrieved a few bullets from a nearby drawer. Having the weapon loaded he returned.

“Alright, let's go.” Mark said, Frank nodded.

Opening the door the duo was bombarded with snow, the howling wind made it nearly impossible to hear anything.

Closing the door behind them, they went further down off the porch and onto the snow-filled ground.

“C'mon call her!” Mark shouted to Frank, but he simply looked at him. He seemed to be hesitant.

Mark raised his rifle, basically saying that if it was a wolf or some kind of animal, he was armed. And the door is just a few feet behind them after all.

“TRISHA!” Frank shouted as loudly as he could.

“TRISHA!” He shouted once more.

After a minute of shouting, they were on the brink of going back inside when suddenly.

“Hey, I see some movement!” Mark said, pointing toward the dark forest ahead.

“I see it!” Frank replied.

Mark readied his rifle just in case, releasing the safety.

Then after a few moments, a figure appeared out of the darkness.

A husky.

“That's Trisha, right!?” Mark shouted to Frank, his rifle still at the ready.

“Yeah, that's her!” Frank said

“Here doggy! Come 'ere! It's me, Trisha, over here!” Frank shouted

The dog simply stood there, growling at him. Frank took a few steps forward...

One...

Two...

Three...

The dog barked and growled even louder this time, and then she quickly turned around and ran back into the forest.

“Shit!” Frank shouted, then he did something Mark didn't expect from him. He ran after her.

“Hey, Frank! Hold up! Where are you going?!” Mark shouted to no avail, Frank was running after her.

“FRANK!” Mark shouted after him, but Frank ignored him and continued into the forest. Quickly disappearing into the darkness, and escaping Mark's line of sight. Mark was now in panic mode, he didn't know what to do. Does he wait for him? The man is experienced with the forest and knows his way around. But in this blizzard, even the best get lost, get stuck, and become another statistic. Does he go after him? He might get lost himself, and God knows he might just become a statistic.

“Fuck it!” Mark said to himself and started to run toward the darkness through the thick nearly knee-high snow.

As he ran he shouted, “FRANK WHERE ARE YOU!”

No reply could be heard. Even if he would reply it's doubtful he would hear him through the wind.

“Old bastard...” Mark murmured to himself as he entered the forest, he could see jack all. His eyes adjusted to the darkness. He stopped abruptly, not daring to go deeper inside. He shouted once more “FRANK! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?”

After a few minutes of shouting and looking back and forth, he saw no trace of either Frank or the dog. Not even a trail in the snow. Though granted he could barely see.

“FRANK I'M GOING FOR A FLASHLIGHT! I'LL BE BACK!” Mark shouted once more into the forest.

He went back toward his cabin house, retracing his steps. Soon enough he was back inside, next to the warm fireplace. But he had no time to waste warming up again. He rushed to his bedroom, he grabbed a flashlight and his phone. He figured he wouldn't have reception, but he took it just in case.

As he was checking the batteries in the flashlight, he heard the door opening back in the living room.

He rushed back into the living room to see none other than...

“Frank?” Mark said, breathing heavily.

He looked at him, he saw him holding his hand. There was red.

“Jesus, Frank what happened!” Mark said.

“Son of a bitch bit me then ran off...” Frank replied.

“God damn it she might have rabies, this ain't good.” Mark said with a worried tone.

“It'll be fine... Do you have a medicine cabinet or something? I can do everything myself.” Frank asked.

“Yeah, yes, of course. Right over there at the end of the hall to the right.” Mark replied, Frank quickly made his way to the restroom.

Meanwhile, Mark grabbed his phone in an attempt to dial 911, he needed to get Frank to a hospital somehow. The wound wasn't bad, he saw that much himself, but the possibility of rabies was real. So he wasn't taking any chances.

He tried a couple of times, but the reception was nearly non-existent.

After a few minutes, he gave up on it. He decided he'd drive Frank if need be. Even though this storm.

“Hey Frank, you alright in there?” Mark yelled down the hallway, but there was no reply.

“Frank?” He asked once more, but no reply came.

Shit

Mark ran down the hall, opening the door of the restroom.

Inside he saw that the sink was covered in blood, the medicine cabinet was wide open and its contents were haphazardly thrown around the restroom. But as for Frank... He was nowhere to be found.

“What the f-” Before Mark could finish his sentence, he could feel a warm gust of air blow across the top of his head.

He looked up.

“JESUS CHRIST!” Mark shouted upon seeing the thing hanging on the ceiling of the restroom.

He ran out, and left his rifle at the entrance. But in his haste, he tripped in the hallway, he tried to get up but felt something grab onto his ankle.

He looked at it.

The thing looked human... Humanoid. Its hairless body had visible veins on its gray body. The body looked like a blend of flesh and some sort of metal. Its head was bulbous with two black eyes and red irises which seemed to glow, it had no mouth from what he saw, just skin where it would've been. It made a bone-chilling clicking sound.

It had a tight and firm grip on his ankle. He kicked at its face with his free hand. The grip lightened and he was able to wiggle his ankle out of the thing's hand.

He got up quickly and ran toward the entrance, toward the rifle.

He managed to grab it, he turned around to face the biomechanical monstrosity... Only to find his hallway empty once again.

He stood frozen, his back up against the door. He reached with his hand for the door handle. His eyes did not leave the hallway for a single moment.

He fiddled with the door handle for a few moments before finally opening it. Once he did he ran out, quickly closing it.

With that, he came to a realization. He had nowhere to go. His truck was nearby but it would take too long to make it start under the current conditions. He could hear movement from inside the cabin. He needed to act.

But before he could think of anything else to do the window of his cabin shattered, and the creature leaped out.

Mark quickly raised his rifle, aiming blankly, and shot at the thing, the bullet connected. But instead of hitting something like flesh, it was as if it hit a solid metal block. Sparks even flew from the thing.

Mark was shocked, but he had no time, he ran down the porch to the snow.

He managed to get halfway toward his truck, despite not having a light source and being exhausted, adrenaline was pushing him forward.

But the creature was faster, it grabbed him by his leg and lifted him up from the ground upside down. He still managed to hold onto his rifle but before he could aim it or use it in any way to defend himself the creature grabbed it and ripped it out of his hand.

Mark screamed, he had nothing else to do. He tried punching it but it hurt him more than it hurt it.

The creature lifted him high above, its arms were longer than he had previously thought, and it managed to lift him so that they were at eye level. The thing's red eyes had no malice in them. They were cold and calculated.

“Too warm, too warm”

A deep and guttural voice said, its jaw moving but with no discernable mouth to say the words. It was followed by a string of clicks akin to that of a beetle.

The creature lifted a finger on its other hand, and out of the finger came something akin to a wire. The wire with lightning speed went inside Mark's head. And his eyes rolled back into his head.

He went limp. The creature hoisted him over its shoulder.

It looked around and focused its red and black eyes on the rifle in the snow. It walked to it slowly, picking it up.

The thing left with Mark's limp body and the rifle in hand, back into the forest.

Looking back at the house, the thing saw as smoke started to go out of the window it had broken. It turned its head back forward.

And walked off into the cold blizzard night.