Snow Blind

Snow blind

             “Don’t worry honey, I’ll be fine.” The man said.

             “But Mark, what if you’re not? I love you, and I want you to be happy, but to be happy you need to be alive, and it’s because I love you that I don’t want you to go.”

            “Please, baby, stop worrying. I’ll be back in two weeks.”

            “Okay, fine.” She said, and then they kissed.

            “Two weeks. I promise.”

            “Okay. If you’re not, then there’s going to be a price to pay.”

            Mark laughed, and waved as he started up the mountain. The ground was covered in snow, and his feet crunched on top of the snow as he walked. The air was brisk with the cold of winter, but he didn’t mind. He had on a coat, a knife and pistol at his side, and a huge backpack on filled with what he would need for the days to come.

            He walked in peace and quiet for a few hours, tiring all the while. As he reached the four hour mark, he decided to stop for a rest. He took off his pack, and lay down on a tree. He took out his knife, spun it around a few times, and then put it back.

            He decided to just sit there and watch the clouds. As he watched the clouds, he lost himself into a self-induced trance-like state. He felt his eyes get heavy, and his mind wandered off. He snapped his eyes open, trying to stay awake, but it was no use. He saw the sight of snow falling as he slowly drifted off.

            Mark was dreaming that he was being chased by a gigantic monster. This monster was ten feet tall, pure white, and had two heads. He got chased all through the forest, running and running. But still the monster was catching up to him. He tripped, the monster roared, and then his eyes snapped open.

            There was still a roaring, but it was from the wind. And there was a monster, but that was the snow falling down at speeds quicker than the eye. Mark jumped up, and put on his backpack. He was freezing, and had to find shelter.

            The thoughts racing through Mark’s head were innumerable. How did he not wake up when the snow storm hit? Would he survive? Would he ever see his wife again? And then there were countless others, lost in the blizzard of thought mimicking the blizzard he was caught in.

            Mark trucked through, trying to find his way through the snow storm that was blinding him. He felt his face and hands going numb, felt the stinging slap of the wind and snow hitting him, and felt the pain of every step.

        As he was walking, the snow was seeping into his boots and pants. His feet were going numb, his hands and face were totally numbed now. Every step became a trial, every foot moved forward a gauntlet of pain.

        But then, out of the darkness came a light. He saw an opening in the mountain, a shelter of rocks. He saw a cave. And with the cave came shelter, possibly water, and who knows what else? He trekked towards the cave, fighting against fate with every step. As he neared it, his hopes rose to the highest heights.

            Then finally, he took the last step into the cave.  He took several steps further back, then collapsed, shivering, onto the cold cave ground. He laid there for several minutes, simply shivering. No thoughts, no emotion, and no movement besides the shivering.

            Then finally, he fell asleep, still shivering. Then eventually the shivering subsided. He laid there, cold snow blowing outside, sleeping. He laid there for hours, just sleeping. And in his sleep, he had the strangest dreams.

            He dreamt he was in the cave, awake. He was sitting there, with the monster that had been chasing him before outside the cave. The monster roared, and an icy wind blew in from the monster's mouths. It stood out there, scratching and clawing at the cave entrance.

        As it stood there, Mark was standing there, staring at the monster, ready to run if he had to. He looked up the monster, starting at its feet, then its legs, then its body. Then, he met its eyes. He froze in terror, was paralyzed in fear.

        He felt the monster's petrifying gaze, and couldn't move. He saw the intent to kill in the monster's eyes, and saw everything the monster wanted to do to him. And he couldn't escape. The monster roared again, a chilling wind blew in, and he woke up.

       A freezing cold wind blew in, and Mark shivered beneath it. He curled up into a ball, trying to shelter himself from the cold. He laid like that for several minutes, just shivering beneath the bone chilling winds.

        Eventually he got up, and started looking around the cave. He walked all the way to the back, and then back up towards the front. The back of the cave was warmer than the front, so he moved all of his stuff back there.

        He sat back there, still shivering from the cold, when he heard a rumbling. He jumped at first, thinking it was the monster from his dreams. But then he realized that it was his stomach, aching from the pain of hunger.

        Mark thought about it, and realized he had no idea how long he had been in that cave. It could have been hours, it could have been days. But either way, his stomach was killing him, and he needed to eat, and to drink, his throat was dry.

         So he went into his pack, and got out his water bottle and some food. He had brought enough to last him two weeks, and he would have to make it stretch. So he ate, but not much. And he drank, but still not much. He ate and drank only enough to sustain himself for the day.

        So this went on for three weeks, the snowstorm blowing outside indefinitely. He had dreams of the monster every time he slept, and each time it was closer and closer. But after those three weeks and a few days, he looked in his pack for food and water, and this search brought horror to him.

        He had no food or water left. He rummaged through his pack, hyperventilating more and more as he did so. "No, no, this can't be happening. I can't have run out, no!" He said, voice rising with every word.

        After minutes of this, he finally sat back, defeated. He curled up into a ball, and started sobbing. He was wondering how he could have run out of food, how he could have been so stupid. How did he not ration himself better?

        And to top it all off, it seemed like the snow storm was nowhere near over. It had been going for who knows how long, and there was no clear end in sight. How much longer he would be in this cave was a matter of how long he could live.

            He decided to end his pain for the day by going to sleep. He closed his eyes, and drifted off. It took him a while, but soon he was in slumber. And the monster was watching him, right next to him.

            The monster sat there, watching him, doing nothing. For once it wasn’t roaring, wasn’t terrifying him. It almost seemed peaceful, in a way. It was almost calming to him. But then there was a flash of light, and it was terrifying. Another flash and it was calming.

            It fluctuated like that for some time, going between terrifying and calming. He was frightened, calmed, and then frightened again. This went on for some time, almost seeming like it would never end. But then he woke up.

         He sat in the cave for days, doing nothing, growing weaker by the day with his only calorie intake being water. Every day he did the same routine. Light a fire, drink water, sit around the fire, go to sleep, wake up, repeat. The monotony was going to drive him insane.

         Eventually, one day as he was sitting around his fire, he got an idea. He could eat himself to survive. It was either that or die. He thought about it, then pushed the idea out of his head. He couldn't, it wouldn't work. But at the same time, he was so hungry.

         He battled with that idea for some time, pushing around the pros and cons of it in his head. But then, one day, it clicked. He could easily do it, just cut off part of him he didn't need. Like his leg.

         If he cut off his leg, he could still make it. He just had to cut it off at the right part. He needed his arms to start the fire, and of course he needed his head. But his leg? That he could do without.

        He walked over to the fire, and sat down. He took out a spare change of clothes that he had, and cut them into ribbons with his knife. He tied the ribbons of clothing around his thigh, and started heating up his saw.

        He heated it up until it was glowing red, just to make sure that it would do the job as quickly as possible. He then took it out of the fire, and positioned it right above his leg. He took a deep breath, and then began to cut his leg.

        As he was cutting, he screamed. He screamed a blood curdling scream, the likes of which had never before escaped his mouth. He gritted his teeth, and as tears were streaming out of his eyes, he still cut through.

        The saw cut through his flesh like it was butter, and soon a puddle of blood was pooling around him. He started panicking because the makeshift rope he tied around himself wasn't working, but he still was cutting through.

        Soon the saw was at his bone, and he started cutting through that. It felt as though he had a thousand teeth chewing at his marrow, and he screamed through gritted teeth. He finally cut through the bone, and by then the saw wasn't nearly as hot.

        He cut through the last few inches of flesh, then dropped the saw in pain. He was shivering, and there was a sizable pool of blood around him. He felt weaker by the minute, and felt his eyelids getting heavy. He was so sleepy, so sleepy, so... sleepy...

        Then he fell asleep, and the monster cradled him in its soft arms.