#MysteriousEncounter

[mylifewitherick]

Fear

I was in a new place. So much had happened to me over the past few years; all I needed was a safe haven. I decided to accept an invitation from a friend—spending a few days in a house far from the urban noise, just me, my friend, and his family, who welcomed me with open arms. After a week there, I felt at peace. The days were short, the nights cold and long, but it was exactly what I needed. For the past seven days, I had followed the same comforting routine: waking up at 7 a.m., enjoying my coffee while admiring the garden, soaking up the morning sun by the pool, and spending the rest of the day going along with whatever plans Paul came up with.

But today, my routine was disrupted. While I was drinking my coffee, I saw a man entering the house through the garden. He didn’t look like an intruder—he walked with confidence, as if he knew exactly where to go to reach the main entrance. Paul quickly stepped out of the house, greeted the man warmly, and they began a lively conversation. From where I was, I couldn’t hear a word, but the way the man looked at me left me unsettled. It felt as though I were exposed to him—not physically, but emotionally, as if my very soul lay bare before his gaze. It seemed like he was peering straight into my thoughts. Though we hadn’t exchanged a single word, my heart pounded as if I’d just been startled.

Lost in my thoughts and transfixed by his gaze, I suddenly heard a distant voice calling my name. It was Paul, beckoning me to join them. My hands went cold, but I tried to hide my nervousness as I walked calmly toward them. As I approached, the man introduced himself as Erick. I replied, saying my name was Melissa. No sooner had I finished speaking than Paul resumed the conversation. Part of me was relieved, but another part felt even more anxious. Paul explained that Erick had come to invite us to a gathering they regularly held by the lake. Paul attended these gatherings often, and since I was staying with him, the invitation naturally extended to me. What other plans could I have? My attendance was inevitable, as my afternoons were completely subject to Paul’s plans.

I still couldn’t understand why this man, Erick, made me so nervous. It had been only ten minutes since I first saw him and just a few seconds since I learned his name. Yet he kept looking at me in that same unnerving way. After Paul finished speaking, I managed a small smile and replied with a polite “Yes, sir.” Then, I excused myself, saying I needed to change into something more appropriate for the occasion. Once in my room, I took a deep breath and sat on the bed. I couldn’t get his gaze out of my mind. My heart was still racing, and part of me felt afraid—all because of the intense gaze of a stranger who was as young as I was.

[harmonyhealinghub]

The Midnight Blizzard Shaina Tranquilino December 5, 2024 The wind howled through the trees as Erin tightened her scarf against the biting cold. The forecast had warned of an intense storm, but no one in the small mountain village had anticipated the Midnight Blizzard. A storm so rare, it hadn’t been seen in decades, according to the few remaining elders. Erin, a nature photographer, couldn’t resist the allure of the unusual event. Armed with her camera, she ventured into the woods.

Snow fell in thick, blinding sheets, the world around her blanketed in white silence. The path she’d taken was rapidly disappearing, and the familiar markers of the forest seemed to vanish. The air shimmered with an eerie glow, a faint silver light that didn’t seem to come from the moon.

Then, through the swirling snow, she saw it.

At first, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. A spire, then another. Slender rooftops covered in pristine frost rose ahead, their outlines sharp against the storm. As Erin walked closer, the snow began to lessen, as though the blizzard avoided this mysterious place. She stumbled into a clearing and gasped.

A town stood before her. It wasn’t on any map she had ever seen. Elegant wooden homes with icicle-laden eaves surrounded a cobblestone square, in the center of which stood a fountain frozen mid-flow. Pale lanterns flickered with soft blue flames, casting long shadows that danced in the snow. The streets were empty, but the town didn’t feel abandoned—it felt... waiting.

Erin hesitated, the pull of curiosity battling the voice in her head that told her to turn back. She stepped forward. Her boot crunched against the cobblestone, and instantly, the lanterns flared brighter.

She was no longer alone.

Figures emerged from the doorways. They were dressed in clothes from another era—long coats, corsets, and hats adorned with feathers and jewels. Their eyes sparkled like the frost itself, and their skin glimmered with an otherworldly sheen. They didn’t speak but watched her with an expression that was neither welcoming nor hostile. Erin raised her camera instinctively, but when she clicked the shutter, the image refused to take, as though the camera couldn’t capture them.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a voice said. Erin turned to find an elderly woman standing behind her. Unlike the others, her face showed age, lines etched deep into her frost-glazed skin.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Erin stammered. “What is this place?”

“This is Frosthaven,” the woman said. “A sanctuary for those who are no longer part of the world you know. We appear only on the coldest night of the year, and by dawn, we vanish.”

“Why?” Erin asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The woman’s eyes softened, and for a moment, she looked almost human. “To remember. To be remembered. But you must leave before the blizzard ends, or you will remain with us, caught between times.”

Erin’s heart raced. The allure of the town was undeniable—the beauty, the mystery—but the woman’s words filled her with a sudden urgency. The edges of the blizzard seemed to press closer, the glow of the lanterns dimming. She turned and ran, her footsteps barely leaving imprints in the snow.

As the storm swallowed her, she looked back. The town was fading, its lights dimming until only the fountain’s frozen shimmer remained. Then, it too disappeared.

By morning, the blizzard had passed. Erin stood at the edge of the woods, staring at an unbroken expanse of snow where the town had been. She clutched her camera and looked through the photos, her breath catching when she reached the last frame.

There, amidst the stark whiteness of the storm, was the faint outline of Frosthaven—a ghostly imprint that seemed to whisper of a story too impossible to believe.

And yet, she had been there.

[elfuegointerior]

230924

"Soñé que, tras subir una pequeña montaña, en la cima había una especie de santuario, similar al edificio del parque Colomos. En la entrada, como esperándome, estaba mi tío Alberto, quien falleció hace unos años. Su apariencia era un poco extraña, tenía una mirada que no era propiamente la suya, suponía que era porque ya había muerto y era su forma espectral, tal vez como en la película de Beetlejuice."

"I dreamt that after climbing a small mountain, at the summit there was a kind of sanctuary, similar to the building in Colomos Park. At the entrance, as if waiting for me, was my uncle Alberto, who passed away a few years ago. His appearance was a bit strange, he had a look that wasn’t quite his own, I supposed it was because he had died and it was his spectral form, perhaps like in the movie Beetlejuice."

Posible interpretación: Este sueño puede estar explorando temas de conexión con el más allá y el legado emocional de los seres queridos que han fallecido. El hecho de que tu tío te estuviera esperando en la cima de una montaña, un lugar que suele simbolizar logros y revelaciones espirituales sugiere que podrías estar buscando o necesitando orientación o aprobación de aquellos que ya no están físicamente contigo. La apariencia espectral y la mirada extraña de tu tío podrían reflejar tus sentimientos internos sobre la muerte y el proceso de duelo, posiblemente indicando que aún estás procesando su partida o buscando comprensión sobre la muerte y el más allá. Este sueño invita a reflexionar sobre cómo las memorias y presencias de aquellos que hemos perdido continúan influyendo en nuestras vidas y decisiones.

[hannahvancouver]

Can you send me the link to the stick and poke tattoo girl Tumblr? :)

http://makeyrmomsad.tumblr.com/