So basically, for English we had to write a short story about an urban legend. Because I'm me, and because I'm unhealthily obsessing over this ship, I wrote this. For English class. I turned it in. To my teacher. He doesn't. Even. Know. I might continue it, and make it a lil'.. Well, not exactly something I'd turn in. Review/Favorite/Follow if you're wanting more! (By the way, got an A+ for this one! He even gave me extra credit!)
Fear, is a nasty sensation. Whether the fear that holds you back has a face with fangs, or is just made up of words, it can strike you dead in your tracks. Running doesn't stop these fears, it only delays their arrival. What's worse then? Awaiting the moment of your own dreadful demise, left picturing the horrid fate to come? Or simply facing that very fear spot on, and getting your answer to the life long question?
See, the thing about fear is, it doesn't care either way. The chase is pure fun and games for the long life it lives, and finding a new way to frighten you is all the more entertaining. It lives and feeds off your reactions. Fear is never stopped. There will always be fear. There will always be doubt. There will always be darkness. It's that one shred of hope, though, that lights your way. Glowing bright, cutting through the darkness like a sharp blade of pure gold, it leads you forward. Though the path is rough and deadly, hope emerges, a single star, sparkling brilliantly in the dark.
It was cold. It was always cold here lately. Hiccup couldn't tell you why the sudden weather change had occurred so violently upon his hometown, but everyone here shivered and coughed, almost like a strong icey plague rippling through the land. Everyone, that was left. If the amount of deaths due to the freezing cold weren't enough to frighten you into the safety of your home, the seemingly endless count of disappearances would send you running. Children were gone in an instant, rooms left with curls of frost crawling up their walls, and snow dusting their blankets in thick coats. This only happened to children, anywhere from five to sixteen years old. Hiccup, being fifteen at the time, assumed the worst, as usual. There were rumors, of a God name Jökul Frosti. A spirit who, if provoked, would freeze people to death within seconds. That wouldn't explain any disappearances though.
The small teen looked up at the large grey sky, disappointed not to be greeted by the soft and deep blue that night was supposed to bring. How he wished he could see the stars. They were the only light in this dark pitiful place. Of course the boy knew he shouldn't be out here, especially at this hour, but something always drew him out of the, "safe haven," of the small village. Children were getting snatched right from their bolted-shut rooms, so what would the difference be if he merely lay out in the snow? What greater protection would there be?
His fingers froze, and his toes felt numb. He wiggled his foot to regain some sort of warmth (Or just to make sure this one didn't have to be amputated due to the freezing cold), and sat up, pulling his now soaked woolen hood from his head. With one hand he covered his face as the wind began to nip harshly at his freckle invaded nose, and as he reached down with his other, he found his makeshift prosthetic to be freezing to the touch as well. Shaking the melted snow from his tangled auburn hair, he stood, slightly losing balance and wincing as the skin right below his left knee pressed harshly against the mercilessly cold prosthetic.
As Hiccup began to hobble his way home, he felt the strangest feeling on the back of his neck, as if someone was watching him. He shrugged it off at first, taking it as a cold gust of wind, but as the feeling continued, he spun around and searched the surrounding area with his eyes. Tall evergreens towered above his head, branches being rapidly covered with falling snow. Everything seemed normal, except for the footprints. Footprints, to which the owner had two feet, and by the looks of the quickly fading tracks, no shoes were being worn. Were they mad? Just as mad as he was, to be out this late, he thought. Hiccup followed the footprints as fast as he could, knowing no one could survive this winter hell at night, let alone having absolutely no foot protection. He would know.
He tore through trees and bushes, snowflakes constantly falling into his eyes. All at once, he burst out of the brush, and landed in a large clearing. As he looked up, he realized the ground wasn't covered by snow, but by pure ice. Almost as is the snow avoided this one area. A series of low moans was heard, causing Hiccup to slowly turn his head to the side, and hold back a scream. His eyes widened as countless children stumbled towards him, dead eyes glazed over with thin layers of ice, skin practically blue, lips a pure dark purple. They stopped walking towards him, and moved so a path was formed between them. From the space, emerged a boy who looked only about a few years older than Hiccup. He looked so young, yet stark white hair erupted in soft swoops across his pale forehead. He didn't seem to be under the cruel and vicious spell. In fact, the frozen gazes seemed to be following wherever he walked. Hiccup stared into the boy's icey blue eyes with his wide forrest green ones, obviously terrified.
"Hey, kid." The boy gave an evil smirk, "Wanna have a little fun?"
Sneaky sneaky! You see what I did there? Huh? Huh? Ice Zombie's and shiz niz? Do the Ice Zombies remind you of something? Kids? Being taken over? Almost like… Pitch. Because. Like. Fearlings. Shut up, it was smart when I thought of it. FOLLOW/FAVORITE/REVIEW. Tell me if I should continue!
~Panda