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ICE


schadeaux

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ICE

I left the Pearson’s house early. The party was nice, but I don’t like crowds. I only went because Mike Pearson is the boss. But I knew from the reports that the snow was coming.

I tried to warn them, before I left. I did. The snow would come. With it the ice and cold. They all looked at me funny.

I said my goodbyes and left. My car was parked right outside, no need of a cab. What cab would come out this far anyways.

So I sat there, in my car, an old Oldsmobile. My tank, two tones of 1968 American steel. The V-8 rumbled, but that is normal for an old car. So I sat and waited for the engine to warm, listening to the AM. More snow on the way. With luck I would be home before it.

I pulled out of the drive, but I wasn’t fast enough. The snow had already started to fall.

Home was not really far off, a dozen miles at most. But it was far enough. The snow started falling a bit harder than the radio man had said.

A white curtain had covered my windshield, more than my wipers could contend with. I hardly saw the shape that dashed in front of me. A deer or raccoon, it was just a dark thing. I panicked, I swerved, the car spun…

The next thing I knew my car was bent around a tree, the only thing keeping it from rolling down an embankment.

In time I crawled out of the wrecked heap. The metal of the car and the dirt below were both as cold as ice.

The snow… the snow had been falling…

The Pearson’s house was so far behind now. But ahead I could see a dim green glow. The old Shamrock gas station. Pulling my coat close, I set off. Not more than a mile, I reckoned.

I walked, but the snow kept falling. I could feel it, its cold fingers finding their way under my coat. But I would not run. That’s what the Ice wants, for you to run, to slip, to hurt yourself. No, I would not run.

The Shamrock station was so close! I walked, but not too fast, no, the Ice would not win though I could feel it closing on me, it’s breath freezing my neck, my nose and ears…

If I had tears they would be icicles.

Finally! I burst into the station office! The warmth, the heat! The Ice hates the heat, makes it soft, takes away its power.

The station keeper bent over me, what a sorry sight I was! But I warned him, the Ice was out there, following me! I begged him to call the authorities, and so he did.

BUT! He betrayed me. The authorities that came were not to fend off the Ice, but take ME! I warned them, I begged them, I pleaded with them, but to no avail.

I soon found that these “authorities” were but aspects of the Ice itself, all dressed in white and wielding forces of the cold. They forced upon me a cloak of freezing restriction, immobilizing my arms across my chest.

I cannot move now. My arms are still frozen and I am in a room of ice. The walls are so white and soft. Like snow.

So white.

Snow white.

White death.

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that's one sweeet story, short and strong, but could be stronger... in a nutshell write more!

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oo cool

heh...i know a dude names Mike Pearson!

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Nice story G.A. could he not die and it be the start of something well scarey ??? i dont know. I love the bit about the ice wanting him to fall tho. that really gave me a sence of the irrational fear we can get when frightened good job you original.gif

feel free to check out my story its in the writers forum too cheers mate.

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Honestly, I thought it sucked. disgust.gif You needed a lot more detail and dialogue. Detail is essential and is the empahasis in any narrative. Without detail, the reader can't visualize the setting or the characters. The way you intend to impact your audience, want them to visualize it, or put them in the certain mood won't be achieved because of the lack of detail. Dialogue also helps; it might let readers know what area a person is from, their age, education level, or personality. There should be more writing in general; the story is too short even for a short story. Anyway, good luck on your story! thumbsup.gif I hope this little constructive crticism helped. grin2.gif

I hope you post the final draft. I love a good scary story!

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