Young Writers Society

Snow falls hard onto the cold ground on which a lone man lies down, waiting for death. It is so cold that his blood seems to freeze, no matter the amount of motion he attempts to make with each limb. He had stopped shivering long ago. He can feel every one of his muscles slowly contracting into a frozen state. He only has a few minutes until death finally reaches him. He has to beat death in order to live.

He makes more attempts to move his arms, legs, and head. He can feel his heart slowing. His breath freezes into flecks of ice above his mouth. His tears nearly freeze his eyes shut. The snow no longer melts once it touches his skin. He stops moving.

Concentrate on one finger. The index finger is the easiest to move. Feel your blood flow into it. It feels numb to him. Feel your life flowing through your muscles. He has barely any life left in him. Don't stop breathing. He has to force his lungs to work. Thought is the only thing that keeps you alive. He thinks to himself. I cannot be stopped. He lifts his arm.

Far outside of the man's mind, he hears a voice, "Finally you move." Although the man attempts to prevent himself from hearing the voice, it enters his mind. "You are too weak to fight me now. Too frail."

The man opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a remnant of whatever moisture he has left in his body.

"Don't try to speak. I can hear you."

Where are you?

"I am right behind you. If only you could see me now. However, your eyes seem to be frozen shut."

I can still see. Slowly, the man's vision fades to black. You bastard child of Evil!

"I can do worse, if you wish. I could take a leg, an arm...whatever appendage I desire, really. Ha! You can't stop me now! It has taken me eternity to reach this point! To make it here! To see you fall has been my vision since before time was ever a thought! To be here now..."

A question lingers on the man's mind; one that he doesn't want to ask. Why am I still alive?

The man feels the snow stop. The world glows red behind his eyelids. The air gets hot...very hot. So hot that all the snow within a few miles of the man melts away, leaving only sand and bare dirt. The voice enters his mind once more, "To witness this!" The world glows white behind his eyelids.

Screaming. An eternity of screaming. Torment in his mind. Pain all over. Flashes and flashes of time. Before now. After now. He's spinning into oblivion.

It stops.

The voice says, "You screamed. You're stronger than I thought." A rush of wind passes over the man, and the voice is gone.

I cannot be stopped.

So, I kinda rushed this, and I don't really know where to go with it. I think it's a little cliched at this point. Anyway, thanks for readin' it!