|How to Corrupt a Winter Wonderland
Author: Poe1554 PM
Some things are made with strength. Some things are made with power. Some things aren't made with enough to provide protection, even if we think we are safe.Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy/Suspense - Words: 1,318 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 4 - Published: 11-27-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2974721
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Winter is her fortress, her wonderland. The snow cascades down onto her soft hair and produces a crown for her empire. The trees, dead but alive in her eyes, carry the snow on their backs for her. She smiles as a snowflake falls into her mouth and melts at the touch of her tongue. Dancing, running, enjoying this serenity, this perfection; she is where she belongs.
As the snow continues to create her wonderland, she falls into the white bed of soft powder. The purity billows around her and the snow tries to cover her, encase her in this sweet, quiet lullaby. She looks up to the white sky and grins again. Oh, how she is at peace, at home where it is all meant to be. She moves her arms up and down on the powdery surface while her legs move from side to side. When she is finished she stands up to marvel at her masterpiece. An angel so wonderful and so complete adds to all the bright colors in this beautiful scene. As always, she spreads her lips to show a smile so full of joy, the snow falls even harder at her wish.
A snap tears away all serenity, all piece in an instant. In the quiet, in the perfection, danger speaks volumes no one can ignore. The girl snaps her head towards the noise. A man, standing on a broken branch is recognized. His black aura contrasts with the snow to reveal a foil, an evil. He grins, but not in contentment, in ambition. With audacity he takes another step towards the girl and the snow only adds a blanket of false protection for this scene. His eyes, black, soulless, and envious study this cracking perfection as he pines for the girl, for her wonderland. She takes a step backwards and is followed by the man's step forwards.
Her once calm heartbeat is now racing with fear, with adrenaline, with helplessness. Inside she screams to her wonderland for salvation, but the calmness is only shaken by the man's presence. She turns and runs and by an anticipated reaction the man runs too. But he is stopped; he is taken back by the figure that has appeared before him. As the man hits the icy ground his pitch-black cloak wraps over him, providing a fabricated shield that will only keep him warm. The man looks up to this protector, to this figures dressed in white, clothed in perfection.
The girl turns as she hears the man's stumbling and notices the figure as well. Her eyes grow wide as she looks down to the ground and cannot find her snow angel. Looking back to the white guardian, she procures her angel, her guardian angel. The figure's presence stands taller and larger than any man. Its white complexity and powerful purity shows its strength, shows its chivalric valor. Yet, with the man's insidious venom, he climbs back to his feet to face the angel.
His black cloak flows behind him. The snow is contaminated by the darkness as it touches the man. He pulls from behind him a weapon underestimated by sight. A branch stolen from a once alive tree, he wields it with such raw strength it cows the young girl watching the scene. Gripping the branch like a spear, the man cocks his arm back at launches it towards the bright figure. The branch pierces the angel's chest and becomes frozen to its body. The large figure pulls out the branch and studies it as if it is the first time it has ever seen something so defiled. With little effort the angel shoots the branch back at the man and knocks him back to the growing ground. The girl flinches as the man cries out in pain.
The angel gave the man a warning as it merely grazes the man's left shoulder. Blood still seeps through his now torn jacket. A new look filters into the man's raging eyes, a look the girl has never seen before. The man stands back up, looks the angel dead in the eye, and sprints towards the angel with hatred following closely behind. The angel was too slow to react as it is thrown back down to where it was formed. Pulling a dagger from his belt, the man slashes the angels arm. Ice and snow shoot up from its wound and into the air with all of the freshly falling snow.
This scene is no longer peaceful or beautiful. The girl's wonderland is corrupted, darkening with every passing second. The man rips the dagger through the air again as he stabs the angel in the stomach. The girl stares at the battle in disbelief. She turns to run away from all of this horror. In her escape the angel throws the man off and they both climb back up to her feet. The angel outstretches its untouched arm out into the filthy air. The snow swirls ferocity around the figure's hand. When the snow begins to fall silently again the angel holds an icicle as large as any sword. It takes its first step towards the man who is coughing in shock and lack of oxygen.
He tightens his grip around the dagger and marches towards the angel again. The girl runs unceasingly into an open field of snow and temporary safety. The angel struggles as the man quickly dodges its swings and misses. The man finds an opening and jumps behind the angel, swipes behind its knee, and rolls back. The snowy scene is growing darker and darker, as if the sun is running away too; if only there was a sun to shine on this battle. The angel kneels to the ground in pain no one can avoid; but its expression remains calm, its expression still conceals strength.
The girl watches as the angel stands back up, putting no weight on its now weakening leg. It limps towards the man and swings its sword of ice again; this time snagging on the man's torso and sweeping cleanly through. The angel wears the man's own blood as it is spurted onto its unblemished figure. Again, the man screams out in regret and pain. He grabs his side and gasps for air. Blood trickles from his dirty mouth and falls onto the disturbed snow. A new contrast that is the man's enemy and companion: blood.
With one last strike the man catches onto the angels elbow with his dagger and tugs it through, detaching the perfect appendage. The girl screams out in fear that echoes all the way into the worsening scene. The man searches for the girl as he falls to his knees. Blood still spilling from his abdomen and pouring from mouth. His vision blurs right when he finds the girl's fragile innocence. The man's own darkness consumes him and he is forced to drop into her wonderland. The angel takes its weapon and sinks it into the man's back. The angel finished the job, ended the suffering, and brought serenity back into her wonderland.
The girl shrieks again as a new snap is heard. The angel turns around to see the girl staring back. Her eyes look at her guardian angel with the same helplessness, the same worry, and the same terror. Another snap and the girl falls, falls into the icy water below. The angel falls into her bed of white and lifts its head to see nothing. Splashes of desperation wets the snow that covers the thin ice and the girl's wonderland is erupted, disturbed by a snap.
No more peace is felt. It's now impossible to taste the snow and not feel fear stalking from behind a tree. The winter wonderland, her wonderland is unguarded and corrupted. All by a snap.