The village of Frostvale was always silent in winter, buried under thick layers of snow. But this year, the silence felt different—heavy, watchful, almost alive. People whispered about strange cries echoing from the frozen forest, but no one dared to investigate. No one except Aiden.
One night, carrying only a lantern, Aiden stepped into the forest. The snow crunched under his feet like bones snapping. The deeper he went, the colder it became—as if the air itself wanted him gone. Suddenly, he noticed human-like footprints… but they were too long, too thin, almost stretched.
He followed them to a mound of snow shaped strangely like a body. As he brushed off the snow, he froze—beneath it lay a face. Pale, eyeless, smiling.
Before Aiden could move, a hand shot out from the mound and gripped his wrist. Its touch burned like ice. The creature slowly rose from the snow, tall and twisted, its hollow eye sockets dripping frozen tears.
Aiden ran, but the forest swallowed his screams. By morning, villagers found only his lantern lying in the snow—still warm, still glowing.
But Aiden was gone.
And by nightfall… new footprints appeared
