The broken shell of the city hung over me.

One by one, the small yellow lights in each apartment, business, and house faded away. Nothing awaited me on the neatly paved roads except for an occasional newspaper blowing on the sidewalk, or the smell of exhaust coming from a line of army vehicles and tanks driving down the right side of the road. Their hulls and tires crushed the piles of dead leaves that had fallen from the nearby trees. I made my way in dark alleyways and corners to avoid the stretched out shadows of the guards who were on night duty.

It was only a matter of time before it began to rain, causing my nose to become stuffy and red. Rats scurried in different corners. I had hoped the weather would clear my head, but it had only worsened my sinuses.

With a shaky hand, I lit a crooked cigarette that had been buried deep into my pocket and raised it to my lips after straightening it out, exhaling. The cloud of smoke escaped from my mouth and slowly rose in the air.

* * * * * * * *

Orange light from the setting sun streamed from the dirty windows, causing small dust particles to float in the air and land on the furniture. The bright red circle around the dark number on the calendar bled against the paper. I slowly peeled it off to wipe down behind it with the rag in my hand. While the frayed ends of the yellowed pages were curled up due to water damage, because the fridge had a leak, they were still useful. Gradually the strong aroma of chicken and rice coming from the kitchen overpowered the rooms.

A gentle wind blew against the thick rainbow streamers hung from the walls, blurring against each other. The rungs of the ladder I stood on squeaked beneath my bare feet after I finished securing a cluster of balloons up top near the corner of the ceiling. In one of the drawers in my kitchen, I found a set of dusty utensils. Beneath all of the old envelopes and wrinkled papers laid a large chef's knife at the very bottom. Faded letters on the worn stamp shone in the flickering lightbulb above my head.

I softly began to hum.

Gingerly, with my fingers, I picked up the soggy sponge from the sink and soaped the blade up, bubbles clumping around my hand. I did not look at what remained of the mirror as I began sliding it against a whetstone, watching the steel surface transform in front of my eyes. Water dripped from my palms and landed on the floor. When I slowly set the knife down on the cracked countertop, I could make out my reflection.

My quiet voice filled the silence in the empty house as I dragged the table across the wooden floor, its legs squeaking against the scratched surface. The plastic blue cap flew off the top of the clear bottle in my hands, landing and rolling across the kitchen tiles, disappearing beneath the sink. A deep aching sensation settled in my arms as I dumped disinfectant over the surface so that it spilled over the edges before rubbing it down, white foam clinging to the frayed edges of my oversized sweater sleeves. I could taste a burning sensation on my lips as I placed a large white tablecloth over the surface, the air making it swell.

The heavy ticking of the clock rang in my ears, growing louder with each every passing moment. I stared at it through my hair, before heading to my oven and pulling out a small baked chicken. Hot grease dripped out from the large legs and stained my jeans as I set it down on the table. A pan of macaroni and cheese was next, followed by jasmine rice and peas, collard greens, and finally several packs of ice cold beer. The glass bottles made a clinking noise against each other, causing the golden liquid to slosh inside. After getting the large tub of ice cream out of my freezer, I pried off the plastic lid. With the tip of my index finger, I gathered a bit and placed it in my mouth, the sweet flavoring burning into my tounge.

The forks I held were slippery with perspiration, and they slipped out of my hands and clattered loudly on the floor with a thud. I got down on my knees to pick them up. Some of the frosting and sprinkles from the vanilla cake smeared against the table. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I glanced at the steam rising from the chicken, and then the window. It seemed that the pressure against my temples grew worse, causing my forehead to ache. I leaned forward against the tablecloth and buried my head in my hands, my fingernails digging against the fabric. The ice cream had begun to melt, starting to leave a small stain next to the cake.

If I failed again, it was over.

A heavy knock sounded on the front door. I looked up and moved away from the food, before taking a shaky breath. The wooden floorboards groaned underneath my bare feet with each step I slowly took. In the corner of my eye, I could see the little black arm slightly move on the clock. It was ages before I reached the door, since the hallway seemed to stretch longer than ever.

My fingertips hovered over the doorknob for a moment, before I finally got it to turn. The slick cold metal shocked my skin. I fumbled with the lock until I pushed the door open and found myself staring into the faces of several men.

Warm sunlight streamed inside the hallway, revealing the neatly ironed uniforms from those in front of me and the creases on the stained clothing I'd been wearing for five days straight. An angry red shade had begun to take over the sky above us, replacing the orange. The old general I had seen before gave me a questioning look, his green eyes narrowing as he peered inside.

"You're here," I gently said, before slowly beginning to smile. "Would you all like to come inside? No point just standing there."

"We can't stay very long, Private," the man said, glancing at his comrades. "Initially we thought we could spare an hour or two, but our schedule changed. An issue with the communication lines in one of our main camps. So we only came to drop by."

My hand slightly tightened around the doorknob, causing it to freeze. The general took off his hat, and I moved aside in a daze to let the others step inside. Some gave me a strange look, others observed the peeling walls and dusty windowsills, speaking in low voices, but I could barely hear them. I didn't even have the strength to look at the clock.

"Why is it so dark in here?" the general asked. He wrinkled his nose. "Smells kind of funny in here too, like something died."

"There's been a couple of electrical issues, sir," I answered, shoving my hands in my pockets. Most likely the odor was coming from me, since I hadn't had the motivation to shower in days, but of course I couldn't tell him so. "Ceiling's been leaking a lot lately. Don't worry though. It only does that sometimes, like when it rains. It probably won't happen anytime soon, I hope."

He gave me an odd look. "Uh huh."

I softly smiled. "Do you want some baked chicken? Mac and cheese? You can have whatever you want."

"No. I'm not very hungry." The man slyly smirked. “But, given how much of a big fellow you are, I’m sure you can have all of this and still have room for seconds.” As his comrades began to snicker, he raised an eyebrow and looked me up and down. “I can tell eating is no problem for you. The army has no room for gluttons; you’re purely Baldwin’s favorite at this point. Otherwise, you would’ve been kicked out by now.”

I looked down, my smile slowly fading away. A heavy ache settled in my chest as they began to roar with laughter.

“What else do you have?” he demanded.

I picked up the knife and sliced into the cake, sliding out a giant piece. "Would you like to take some dessert with you for later on at the very least? It'd be a shame for you not to try it. Won't you at least have some?"

The general hesitated as I held out the plate to him, along with a fork. He awkwardly held it in his hands, as if he didn't know what to do with it.

Most of the men had already made their way towards the beers and food on the table, loading up their plates. I couldn't help but stare at them, wondering how they managed to even have an appetite at all. My heart was beating so hard against my chest I was surprised that the general didn't hear it, even though he was standing close to me. He put a tiny bit of cake in his mouth, before nodding to himself and beginning to dig in. I slowly held the knife out to him. He took it out of my sweaty palm and began to cut another piece. Eagerly, he reached for a scoop of ice cream.

It fell on the plate with a loud splat.

"Did you make this yourself?" he asked.

"Yes." It came out in a whisper.

In my mind, I asked my mother to forgive me, whether she was here on this earth or not.

Gradually, the faucet in the kitchen sink turned, beginning to slightly squeak. A small stream of water shot out and flooded the countertop behind all of us. I could feel blood starting to lightly pool inside my nostrils. Gurgling increased within the pipes in the rotting walls, but the wave of laughter from the men around me drowned out the noise. They downed one bottle of beer after the other until some were on the ground, wheezing. I slowly exhaled as the general put the knife back onto the table, the blade smeared with crumbs and frosting. My hand lightly brushed against it, causing it to slide across the tablecloth.

"Mmm," the man said, licking his fingers and chewing. "What on earth did you put in this? I never had vanilla cake that tasted so good. This is much better than the type you find at the store, you know. Never knew you had good baking skills, even for a lousy soldier."

The edge of the knife poked my index finger, but it finally fell into my grasp. I rested my arm behind my back, my bare toes curling against the cold tile kitchen floor. Things seemed much slower, and although I had tried my best not to look, the longer arm of the clock brushed against the top of a black number. Everyone's smiles burned in my mind, bits of food stuck to their gums and lips, their words jumbled and broken.

Something hot washed over me.

With one swift motion, I swung the blade, catching the general's neck. Red splattered on the tablecloth and the cake. A strangled noise escaped from his mouth as he coughed and sputtered, desperately trying to pull the blade out of his skin. My hand struck him against the stomach, causing him to sink to his knees, chunks of flesh seeping through his fingers. In a desperate attempt to fight back, he lurched forward, trying to swing at me again.

A heavy noise echoed in the house as the table fell over, causing all the food to spill everywhere. I snatched the handle of the knife and brought the edge down over and over again, blood sloshing on my sweater, my hair, my face. Gaping wounds appeared on fabric of his uniform, large chunks of his skin hung loosely from his body. Gritting my teeth, I allowed the knife to slip out of my hands and clatter on the growing pool of blood that had gathered beneath me. For a moment, there was an eerie silence, and I stared at his lifeless green eyes, before looking at my palms and the broken remains of his plate.

The clock stopped ticking.

Distinct popping sounds echoed in the house, and water seeped out from the walls and began to flood the wooden floor. Something cold and wet attached to my arms, my spine; several water tendrils floated in the air from my body. I turned to face the rest of the stunned generals who had began to move back. Water sloshed around their knees, which was pouring in at every direction, listening and understanding me.

The lights began to flicker above us. Beads of liquid slowly rose in the air, the room embedded with a thousand spheres.

"Run," someone shouted.

Blood dripped down my mouth and nose as they struggled and fought to get to the front door, shouting. My hands caught in the dim light as I felt my pupils dilate. A sudden force caused everyone to fly backwards in the air, hitting tables and chairs, their uniforms and hair covered in powdery white snow. Others were trampled on, arms and legs flailing as heavy boots slammed against their heads.

The heavy wave of gray water washed over them, and they slipped and fell next to the soaked streamers. Something else had seized control over me, my thoughts. I held my fingers out, causing a large ice barrier to form, blocking the entire hallway. They frantically banged against the surface with their fists as a long icicle slowly rose from the ground and impaled two men who were trying to break through a window. A stream of liquid wrapped around their legs and bashed their heads into the glass surface, causing some balloons to pop. Their blood streamed down like melted ice cream on a waffle cone, lifeless eyes staring helplessly at the soaking wet ceiling.

Dismembered limbs floated around in the rising water. I kept my gaze on one man, focusing as ice crawled on his body. His cries for mercy barely registered. The sharp edges slowly pulled back the external membrane of his body back to reveal muscle and bone. His shrieks echoed in my ears as he desperately tried to pull off his bloody clothing, along with large pieces of his skin. Eventually his voice became strangled as large shards of ice grew out of his mouth, his eyes wide with fear and pain, before he completely became still.

My bare feet sloshed against the now reddened water as I slowly moved forward. Six of my tendrils wrapped around the others and raised them into the air, slamming them against repeatedly against the walls, breaking off large pieces of plaster. Chunks of skull and brain matter stained the cabinets. The veins on my hand bulged through my skin as a cluster of ice shards rose in the air. A man wailed as one sliced his stomach open, causing his organs and intestines to spill out and splash in the water below. In the flickering electricity, I could sense one general attempting to climb on the refrigerator to break the window.

One of my tendrils tore apart the electrical wires, causing sparks and smoke to fly. His horrified face met mine as I formed a whip, slashing his skin and wet uniform open. Flames burst in the air, and he screamed, trying to extinguish the fire that had now begun to consume his skin. As the general landed backwards in the water with a heavy splash, his body convulsed and shook until he moved no more, his arms and legs blackened. The scent of blazed human flesh met my nose, burned my eyes and throat.

I stared at the floating bodies around me, breathing heavily. A deep ringing settled in my ears. Drops of water fell from my hair, which covered my eyes. My hands slightly shook as all the water in the darkened house rose in the air, forming a red wave. It smashed against the front walls, leaving a giant hole and revealing the jagged broken edges of the brick barrier. Giant puddles appeared on worn grass in the front yard.

Several more coils latched on to me as I propelled myself forward, flying up in the air and landing on a tree. The branches froze underneath my touch, but I did not stop. A large crack shot out across the front yard, and snow landed on the frozen corpses below. Red tendrils curled around my arms like snakes, concealing me from the world.

As I leaped off the tree, I closed my eyes.

* * * * * * * * * *

Frost formed on my skin.

It grew colder around me in the darkened woods. I swung from one tree to another, leaves and branches slapping me in the face. Ice spread out from my bare feet, a thick layer of it burying the grass and vegetation behind me. Before I knew it, icicles hung from the branches around me. My mind fought to make sense of it all, the strange wave of energy that seemed to hover over me like a swarm of angry bees, that I could not control. A thin line of blood spilled from my nose to the ice rink that now surrounded me, leaving behind dots of red. Clear crystals grew on the tree trunks around me, my bloody fingertips.

The pressure in my head caused a strong dizziness to settle over me, even more so when I was in the bottom of that lake in Portia. A bright blue light glowed in the dark, highlighting my remaining fingers. My eyes widened as the searing pain shot through my skull, and my bare foot slipped, causing me to lose my grip on the bark. With a heavy thud, I slammed into each branch on the way down until I landed on my back on the ground and rolled down a small slope.

My bloody fingers clawed against the soil, rocks sliding by me. Pressure and a deep tingling sensation settled on my hands as a heavy blast of white, powdery ice shot outwards. The force was so strong I slid backwards, slamming hard against the truck of a nearby oak tree. Thick clumps of snow landed on top of my head, blocking my vision.

A giant iceberg, around eight feet tall, stretched out towards the sky. It was dark, the edges sharp and cruel, engulfing the tree next to it. As I struggled to my feet, my head began to throb again, and the world started to spin as my right hand grabbed at the branches for support. The blue light illuminated from my hand again, causing another ice blast to form. A heavy amount of blood spilled from my mouth down to my chin as more transparent walls began to form. My breaths were white clouds in the air, rising from my frozen, scabby lips.

I took off sprinting.

Thick ice slopes formed underneath my bare feet, and I lost my balance and tumbled down the hill, that blue light growing brighter and brighter in between my palms. Thousands of branches scratched my face. My entire body was covered in frost and ice, and I began to slide. Transparent blobs of liquid slipped out from the trees around me, forming clear ropes that attached themselves to my arms. Before I knew it, I had extended my left arm out towards the very top branches of a tree, right near the ice towers that grew around me at a rapid pace.

The sensation of my feet leaving the earth threw me off as I found myself in the mid air in the sky for a moment, right in the full view of the setting sun, before a strong downward force took effect once more. My water covered arms latched onto several branches as I started to swing across each tree top, the cold air slapping my face. Gravity tore my insides, and I struggled to keep my balance as the ice blasts from my arms spread out. I started to pick up speed. My breaths were unstable, uneven, and the blue light started to glow brighter. A ball of intense energy built up inside of me as the ground began to rapidly approach below.

“Aaargghhhhhhhhhhh!”

I brought both of my arms down with one swift motion, slamming my fists hard against the soil as I landed on my feet. The pain in my head was unimaginable, and I didn’t know how to make it stop. A powerful vibration shook the earth, so much so that the dirt around me began to rise and lift in layers. Bright blue light shone out through the cracks, shooting out from the ten foot crater I had created. Beneath my bare feet the ice flew out and rose, causing a rumbling sound to fill the air. I gritted my teeth, the taste of blood rising in my mouth as the crackling sound gathered in my ears. A cold wind blew nearby, causing me to shiver.

And I was left in the darkness again.

* * * * * * * *

Broken, split trees lined my path as I stumbled towards the gate of the unguarded camp, tasting mud and rocks in my mouth. The crackling sound of frost crawling on the ground behind me filled the air as I wrapped my tendrils around the locked gate, concentrating, causing the metal to warp. It snapped in half, making a large sound that echoed in my ears. Water rose in the air, twisting and curling around me as I slid behind a small mound of rocks being used for mining. My blood soaked sweater clung to my skin, smearing a dark red hue on their jagged surfaces.

In the fog, a large group of frail prisoners stepped out, huddled next to each other.

For the first time, I was able to get a better view of them. A look of disbelief settled on their faces as they stared at the ice covered entrance, the torn metal rods on the gate, the empty road in front of them, which would have usually been full of guards. Instead, snow and large ice boulders lined the path. One by one, they took off running, slipping into the woods until the place was completely empty. I could barely look at the piles of burnt human remains in the trenches that they were forced to dig into.

A light blue hue flickered as my tendrils fell apart, causing a large amount of bloody water to wash over me. My knees gave way. I shivered and hugged myself, before slowly rising to my feet, mud clinging to the edges of my soaking wet jeans.

The wooden doors of the empty quarters blew in the wind, their hinges starting to creak loudly. I stared at the lice infected covered mats they slept on; the broken tools they used, a whole shed of gray uniforms, and finally, the iron that they were branded with on their face. My head was throbbing, burning as I leaped over the barbed wire fence and slowly followed them in a daze.

* * * * * * * *

Dead leaves crunched underneath the prisoners' rapid movements as they made their way through the dense vegetation. Only when a clearing came into view after several hours of combined walking and running did they finally stop, bending down and sitting on the grass, coughing and gasping for air. Some broke off icicles that had formed on the trees and began to use them to quench their thirst. Others examined the large clumps of snow that hung around them with great curiosity. I shrank further back in the shadows, leaning my head sideways against the bark of the tree next to me. Ice patterns formed when my blood soaked fingers made contact with the wood.

Men, women, and children huddled around each other for body warmth, shivering. Shame washed over me. I hadn't meant to put them in such a uncomfortable situation where they would be so cold. Another drop of blood streamed from my nose. Limping, I managed to come a little bit closer and crouched down on my legs, staring from behind the leaves that gathered in front of me.

A short man who appeared to be in his early twenties made his way in front of everyone, awkwardly stumbling upon a rock from the ground. His skin was marked with smallpox scars and gashes, and he made a sharp whistle with his fingers, causing all conversation to cease.

"I know that we all are exhausted, but the most important thing we need to do now is to find food for our children and build shelter. We just need to remain calm and find a good place to stay hidden. This area is very popular with yucca root and wild boar." He gestured towards the snow around them, before pointing westbound. "You see? The land is very similar to our villages. We have a somewhat of a source for water that will last us for a couple of days."

"Where can we find some, Fritz?" a woman asked, carrying a sleeping baby in her arms. "There possibly couldn't be, not with how frozen the ground is." She sighed. "I feel as if we must keep going further. Civilians may see us at any moment."

Fritz gave her a kind look. "Do not worry. It is safe to spend the night here. We will make sure that the women and children primarily have access to food. I'll stay up keep watch over you all as you rest."

"So will I," a deep voice said, booming in the air. "I definitely think that's a good idea."

Everyone looked up and turned their heads towards a tall man who had already gathered a bundle of sticks. Ribs poked out from his skin. His large blue eyes were warm and friendly, his thick beard scraggly and long. The jagged K shaped burn on his face had gotten infected. As he approached Fritz and clamped a heavy hand on his shoulder, the smaller man to winced in pain, causing a few others to chuckle. "All of us can start setting up camp. Men, why don't you join Fritz and I right here? If we work together, we may be able to find something good. Make sure to stay with each other. We don't want to stray too far."

"When will start moving again?" someone called out. "How far are we from the cities?"

"Around dawn," Fritz answered. "I haven't seen any so far, so we may be nearing the eastern coast." Hope settled on his face. "That gives us a better chance."

A chorus of voices filled the air as people began to disperse and move around. I studied them from behind the leaves as Fritz looked up and grinned.

"Thank you, George," he said.

The heavyset man slightly chuckled. "It is alright. I think it is good to be able to provide guidance for our people. They are tired, and need to rest." His eyes were slightly moist. "I wish everyone from the camp was here with us. I wonder..." His voice trailed off.

"Wonder what?"

George looked out at the trees for a moment. "I'm just confused how they were no guards with us for an entire day. Believe me, I am not complaining. Leo and the others, we were going to break down the gate. We try to bust into headquarters to get to something to maybe get the lock open. Next thing I know I hear a bang, and the gate is completely frozen. Covered in ice. But it's a very hot day. There was no ice anywhere else but in that specific area. It's a lot colder up here too." He delicately reached out and touched an icicle, before jerking his hand. "Jova has never had snow before, especially in these parts."

Fritz drew back, standing very still.

The other man studied a frozen tree trunk, a wide smile appearing on his face. "Look...look at the pattern of the frost. It's like someone designed this, an artist almost. Isn't it beautiful?"

"I'd say it's terrifying."

"Well, perhaps--"

"Why is it snowing here? It is warm everywhere else. But ice seems to always find us. Everywhere I am, it's there. I feel almost as if, and I could be very wrong, but that something is following us."

"Civilians?"

"No, no, no," Fritz said in a low voice. He stared at the heavy fog that surrounded them. "I just feel a presence, but I may be delusional. I...I don't know how to explain it."

A lump rose in my throat as I looked down.

"What about the soldiers? It must be them. We have no means to defend ourselves. We have no weapons, and if we did, we wouldn't know how to use them. They'll follow us out here and kill us...and slice our throats, shoot our women and kids and--"

"I didn't mean to worry you even more. Do not speak that into existence. We just need to stay hidden. I believe we have not been seen by any civilian or Red Mamba, for sure." Fritz shook his head and closed his eyes. "Forget what I said, alright? Forget it."

"But it is snowing," George murmured.

His friend sighed. "Maybe the climate is changing. Who knows? We just have to keep going. It's alright, I promise you. I don't see anyone around but us."

Their words faded away in the cool air as they disappeared behind a cluster of bushes. I made my way through the shadows, past the dead roots of a tree. Moss and dirt clung to my bloody clothing as I moved as silently as I could, hearing the sounds of people and smelling smoke from small campfires, where others melted the snow into drinking water. My bare feet sank into the soft blanket of snow, the thin trail of footprints directly behind me. Between the branches, I leaned sideways against the bark of a tree and slowly peered out, resting a palm against the rough surface.

The sound of giggling filled my ears; a small boy picked up a large handful of the white cold slush and eagerly threw it in the air, yelling at his mother to watch. Before she could stop him, he ran and dumped it all over her hair. The young woman gasped for a moment in shock, before standing up, her hands on her hips. She scooped him up in her arms and covered her son's head with kisses, hugging him tightly. Both began laughing so loudly that they were red in the face.

* * * * * * *

Fireflies rose in the air, rapid bursts of green and yellow rising within the growing darkness. The tall grass brushed against my arms. Gently, with my bloodied hand, I cleared a few vines out of my way, wondering what hopes and dreams the people in front of me held. What kind of things they loved to do, such as their culture, the type of food they cooked at home, before I had wiped it all away. Before I had ruined and taken everything from them. Before I had ripped their families apart.

A deep pain settled in my chest.

Like ink stains, the shadows of the Khonie danced amongst the trees as they gathered in small groups, eating rabbit and fresh squirrel. The warmth of the campfire appeared to be inviting as they shared their meals, yet so far away. And as the moon began to rise on the night of my twentieth birthday, the desire to just approach and talk to one of them became irresistible, although it would frighten them even more. To be their friend, someone they could trust and connect to. I knew it was selfish of me. If they saw a monster like me they would flee.

Frost began to crawl on the grass, the elaborate patterns becoming twisted and disorganized. The vines gradually slipped out of my grasp, swinging from the branches that sheltered me above. Quietly, I took a few steps back from the faint orange glow into the shadows, staring at my crimson hands, then back at the people. Most had already fallen asleep, holding on tight to each other. Something wet glazed over my eyes as I slowly sat down, hugging my knees. My hair fell over my bloody face.

I had already made a promise to them.

And I was going to keep it.