Winter may seem a long way off, but I'm in the mood to start writing a story that sort of combines the sense of joy told in Christmas stories to the horror associated with Halloween. Enjoy!

From the moment I was born, I have never once been able to feel the chilling sensation others normally feel in the winter. It could be less than zero degrees outside and I would be just as comfortable without a coat as if it were summer.

I live in a small town in a very remote area of Maine, with a population of less than a thousand with the appropriate name of White Point. Established 1865 by Civil War veterans and their families in an attempt to escape from the pressures of post-war suffering. The leader of this group was a young Union soldier by the name of simply Claus. He had no known last name, as he had been abandoned as a baby and was raised in an orphanage until he was sixteen, when he joined the Union Army in 1861. He received many honors, and had met with Abraham Lincoln in 1864, developing an even stronger reputation among his fellow soldiers. When the war ended, however, he was displeased with the treatment of southerners by those who had been so honored by the Union, and started thinking of them as hypocritical. So along with his supporters and their families, they started their own town in an area highly separated from important society.

What happened after has no true evidence in any town records, but spread through word of mouth. Apparently, Claus was highly interested in the paranormal. He read anything from the existing horror writers of the time as well certain books that taught black magic. He also became fascinated with two groups: gypsies, of which he got to learn more about on a trip to Europe in the late 1860s and, according to town rumors, he started professing the fact that he might have been a descended of them, and the Mormons, because of how the religious group had started in America and their strong ability to attract followers. The story is that he started a very strange cult with around five hundred members and a focus on "winter legends"; especially the childhood believe in Santa Claus, which lead the group to call themselves the "Snow Boys". In the 1870s, they would attempt to travel to every part of the US and Europe on the days before Christmas and kidnapped children they believed were missing out on their childhood (getting information from people worldwide was possible before the internet, although it took more time), but the scariest thing of all was what they did with the "naughty" children. While they were still asleep, they would be dragged to the fireplace and burned. Their ashes would then be placed in stockings that were hung in the fireplace, which would come with these creepy poems, such as "He knows if you've been bad or good. The good ones reach everlasting youth, but the bad ones burn from their own sins."

So what does this scary legend have to do with me? When Claus died in 1921, old diaries, essays, and poems were found all over his house. In addition, five girls were found locked up in his attic. They looked well, but they claimed to have witnessed many crimes against some hundred children that appeared and then disappeared around Christmas time. They were also able to explain the truth behind his writings, and they showed him his last work of writing, which ended by stating: "In the future, White Point will witness a miracle in the form of a child. The child will really be an angel, with the ability to overcome the limitations of the beautiful winter, and with that, eternal youth will be possible in every land".

I, Angela Flores, also known as Snow Angel, believe that I am that child.