Part 1: saved by a shadow

"Nothing burns like the cold. But only for a while. Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up, and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it."

-George R.R. Martin, "A Game of Thrones"

I trudged down the sidewalk in the miserable cold, hood up, head down, and gloved hands jammed tightly into my jacket pockets as I walked as quickly as possible to get home out of the stinging open air. The harsh winter wind pelted snow into my face, pinching my ears and nose and making my eyes water as I waded through the slushy mess of ice that coated every inch of New York's irreparably filthy streets. I was only bundled in a turtle neck and hoodie; I'd given my foot-length insulated overcoat to a homeless lady earlier that day. Although after walking four city blocks at nearly midnight through this hellish wind in the negatives, I sincerely doubt that anything would have kept me adequately warm. I gritted my teeth and groaned in consternation as I realized I still had three more blocks to go.

I should probably introduce myself now, before the story really gets started.

My name is Jericho Andromeda Winters, Twenty-one years old yesterday, though I was nineteen at the time this mess started. I have my parents, Dr. Michael Winters and Professor Julia Winters, to thank for the moniker. I've been attending the Manhattan school of music as a music education major for four years now, since I was seventeen. Both of my parents actually teach there, my dad being the head of the instrumental department and my mom being the head of the choral department. so aside from having earned an impressive number of scholarships on my own (if I do say so myself), I save on living costs. BUT, that doesn't mean I have it easy. My parents have hardly ever helped me out except to give me a roof over my head. "You've got to learn to grow up on your own," they told me. So, I pay for my own food, clothes, textbooks and classes (loans abound) and car.

Anyway, now that we're all good and acquainted, let's jump back into my story. The money/car situation is actually what led me to the shit storm/snow storm I was in that night. I had bought myself a shitty 2002 Honda accord on my eighteenth birthday to save money. Seemed like a great idea at a time! But who'da thunk that a thirteen year old piece of vehicular garbage would break down when I most needed it? Not me, obviously. My phone, of course, was out of power. Smashing. And so there I was, braving the journey home from the theater on foot. "IT" was definitely not worth it. My sincerest apologies to Stephen King. I cringed as another blast of wind slapped me in the face.

'Two more blocks,' I told myself, 'Just two more blocks to home, push through it!'

As I put on shaky foot in front of the other, I began to feel... uneasy. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and not just from the chill. I had an intense feeling that I was being watched or followed...or hunted.

Unnerved, I stood still for a second, lifting my head slightly and squinting against the wind to peer around the frozen pavement. I noted that the streets were strangely empty, even for this weather. After seeing nothing else out of the ordinary, I shrugged it off and continued walking a little faster.

By the time I had just one more block to go, it was dawning on me belatedly that attempting such a lengthy trek in this weather was a colossal mistake. Most of my body was numb, making it difficult to move except for the involuntary tremors that shuddered through my body. I had to grit my teeth to keep them from chattering. My head hurt terribly, and I was beginning to feel dizzy. I knew the source of my agony was most likely hypothermia. God, I never thought this would happen to me...

'I hope that lady I gave my jacket to is okay.'

It might have been in my head, but it began to feel exponentially colder, the temperature dropping further and further below zero with each step. The strange feeling was ever-present, getting more intense as the seconds ticked by at a crawl. By the time I was half a block away from our apartment, I was scared out of my wits without even knowing why, moving as fast as my stiff limbs could carry me; as weak as I was, I could barely muster up a light jog.

I came within fifty yards of our complex when I was suddenly struck with a bout of extreme vertigo. I stumbled to the side, slipping on the ice and falling painfully to the frozen sidewalk. my clothes were promptly soaked by the slush and snow, automatically making my situation ten times worse. The ice began to feel like fire, searing every inch of my skin-the parts I could still feel, anyway.

I briefly struggled to get up, but found I could hardly move at all anymore, aside from the violent shivers that wracked my body. I just let myself lie there.

'Just for a second,' I thought, 'Just to catch my breath. I'll get up in a couple seconds.'

I knew I was lying to myself of course; I knew good and well I wasn't going to stand back up. If my jaw wasn't locked I would have laughed bitterly at my situation. It was so frustratingly cruel: I'd come so, so close to safety, only to fall just short of its reach. It was over. I was dead and I knew it.

After a few more moments, I couldn't even think anymore, my mind becoming as numb as my body. I felt as if I was floating... My vision was getting blurry... My eyelids were getting heavy... my eyes began to drift close... I was so, so sleepy...

And That's when I heard them.

Footsteps.

My eyes shot open in alarm as they approached with a slow, deliberate tempo, the murky snow crunching beneath each measured step. The surrounding streetlamps began making disturbing static buzzing noises and flickering on and off erratically, adding an eery The stark terror that overtook me mere minutes ago came back full force, Pumping adrenaline into my frozen veins to keep me awake. After what felt like hours, the footsteps finally stopped right next to where I lay prone on my side. They were behind me, so I could only see them out of the corner of my eye. I just lay there, eyes wide and breathing heavily, scared out of my mind.

I heard the figure sigh as I saw them crouch down in my peripheral vision. I could tell from the way the sigh sounded that he was a male. The man reached out and softly brushed some of my hair out of my face, wet and matted from the unforgiving weather. After observing me for a few more moments, he sighed heavily again and reached out to pick up my limp form, holding me against his chest with one arm under my knees and the other supporting my neck and shoulders. My head lolled weakly onto his chest. I looked up at him, but his face was hidden deeply in the shadows of the malfunctioning streetlights.

I felt him start walking and wondered vaguely where he would be taking me. As darkness began seeping into the edges of my vision, I couldn't quite find it in me to care. Just before I passed out, I felt his chest rumble along with a deep, smooth voice:

"Foolish little girl..."