The Cold nipped at him, taunted him as he trudged forward towards the tattered burnt out house in the woods. It was dark and the snow lay crisp on the ground some of it half melted, where debris stuck out high like mountains. It crunched with every small foot step he took. His breathing was fast and rapid, he groaned as sharp pains ran through him but it wasn't far now. The man was shivering clinging on to himself with his hands so he didn't just collapse. The moon shone high above him highlighting his dark pale features in an unusual way it made his amber eyes even more striking and illuminated his pale blonde hair. The man knew he must reach the house soon for the cold was coming and had been following him for a while now. It had started with the occasional shiver, the oddest sensation like his skin was just going to crawl away but then it became more violent to the point where he had keeled over grasping himself against the pain, like his veins were freezing up and changing almost. It was more than any coldness he had every felt. He was quite close to the house now he could see the wooden porch laden with bullets from the merciless hunters, the windows were broken and the glass still lay silently in the snow. The house was a ghost's place; no sound no movement apart from the bats which had made the home in the rafters which opened to the night sky.
The man coughed and stumbled; he began to shake but pushed it aside with all his might, gasping against the waves of pain that rose through him violently. He began to cry and he pushed himself back up lurching towards the battered door but alas he knew no-one was in the help him. He needed to pass on his message and clutched tightly to the crumpled piece of paper in his hand if only he could in. Another wave of pain came again and he crumpled to the ground crying out in agony as the pain moved through his body, he shook uncontrollably snatching out at the porch steps which were so close in front of him. He threw his left hand out foreword and with any might he had left and tossed the paper into a nook under the second step safe enough for the paper to survive the cold harsh night hopefully to be found the next morning.
The cold finally caught him and swirled round him pushing him to the ground as he screamed in agony. Finally he gave up and embraced the cold relieving him of some of the pain. But then as if a volcano erupted and he tore out screaming as his hands curled over into black claws and his shoulders curved round down the end of his spine. He face elongated forming a tight muzzle and finally a tail grew from his spine and then the thick red brown waves of fur covered him instantaneously.
He wimped and shrugged off his clothes stepping backwards as he did, staring into the woods with wide yellow eyes. His howl was long and sad before he turned and pegged it away from the now huge building which to him had a horrible silver rotting stench!
The air stirred laughing and whispered through the trees at great speed, under its breath it murmured, "the cold is coming the cold is coming" in a harsh mocking voice. It followed the path reaching the road moving leaves all with it as it swerved down the empty highway until it arrived at the small outskirt houses, where it screamed and howled like a wolf! It lunged foreword and riveted past the those houses turning left at Beacon hills school moving down the road once again, where it shunted to a stop and coursed through a slight ajar window where lay peacefully a boy no more than sixteen. His dark messy hair next to his tanned skin and slanted features. His phone vibrating next to his bed with news from his crazy best friend. He tossed and turned under his sheets the cold tickling him in a mocking manor. All fell silent.
"The cold is coming"