hazelemazel

[hazelemazel]

Hey! Sooo I write a lot and this is something I worked up, a anthology, hope you enjoy I tried, more parts soon? Hopefully, I've got one more so soon?

A frozen tomb.

the cold stabbed her like a dagger.

The women awoke with a jump, she glanced around her setting, a dark rotten empty room, her hand clung to a flairgun, a bright orange, breaking the consistency of the room. The storm rawred on, crashing against the house, against her mind, her thoughts. She gripped the broken window behind her, ripped off it's hinges. She raised herself up. The pale lady placed the flairgun in her coat as she ventured towards a mirror, it was broken. She stared at what little remained, her lifeless eyes a compliment to her broken face, the brown hair escaping her hood, laid on her face.

She pushed her weight into the door, falling out of the desolate snow Scape, the Storm raging on for as long as she could remember. The lady put herself back on her feet, then looked up, the sun was gone, replaced with a mountain, a beckon of hope, salvation. She looked forward then walked, her stomach felt light, she hadn't eaten for days. Food was one of many rare commodities. She clung to herself for any form of comfort, the blizzard raging, crashing into her, but her will didn't falter.

Her stomach raged on, until she found a small shack, long left for the storm. With a push the door opened. The women stepped inside, and sat down against a wall. She looked over to see a person, taken by nature, frozen like a coffin. Her stomach raged and raged, echoing for sustenance, shuffling towards the corpse, she took out the flairgun and started to hit it on the ice, breaking chips of it off, burning through her little energy, with that, the

Meat.

Was revealed. She dropped the gun, rummaging through her coat she took a small kitchen knife and started to cut, the gooey flesh ripping off the bone ever so delicately, with that she started a fire, the last fire she could, and placed them atop it.

Her ferm winter boots kept pushing her towards her goal, crashing into the thick snow, she was closer than ever before, the land had become steep, she pressed on, until she took the final step, falling into the snow, the view from atop wasn't breath taking, there was nothing to see, she reached for the flairgun, raising her hand atop her head then with the pull of her finger, the bright red light was shot into the sky, a glimpse of hope. She rested waiting for rescue.

But it never came.

The very place she laid remained her tomb.