The Voice of Snow
A short horror story. A writerly revenge.
This story was supposed to be a cold revenge I promised Dave after his little writerly trolling. Oh, yes, I demanded a new challenge from him early on, so I could write a horror story for Macabre Monday. But…when I got to writing, I couldn’t go along with all the devious atrocities I had plotted. I guess I can’t be mean to you, Dave. I’m a big softy inside. Nevertheless, since the theme was “a horror story about a malicious winter spirit”, partially it still is a cold revenge. Hope you’ll like it , even though it’s a bit cruel.
“David…David…” a soft voice sang his name sending chills down his spine. It was both alluring and menacing; if David had to describe the voice of death, this would be it. Yet he was drawn to it every time he fell asleep. The nightmare had haunted him for about a month; since the first snow in November.
A cold touch slid down his cheek. He never saw her clearly, only vague glimpses of a pale woman, but her voice… he drank up the sound with an unquenchable thirst. He always wanted more, yet the rude awakening deprived him from hearing her once again.
“Oh, for fucks sake! Come on, move your fucking ass, sweetheart! Women drivers, huh?!” The taxi driver yelled.
David nodded, still half asleep. He had obviously dozed off on his way from the airport. The snow made the traffic unbearably slow.
***
“Yeah, this snow is fucking killing me… yeah, dreaming of white Christmas? More like having a nightmare… hey, I’ll talk to later, ‘kay? I’m home. Yeah, right? I barely made it to the flight… no, she doesn’t know. She thinks my flight has been cancelled and I’m coming tomorrow. No, I didn’t…” David laughed, fogging up the phone screen, “okay, gotta go, I’m at the door. You comin’ round tomorrow? Yeah? Tell me about it! Yeah, the in-laws are coming this year. I still have to paint the bedroom… and I bet Cels will make me shovel snow till midnight. Anything for my dearest Mom-in-law. Maybe I should just accidentally pour a bucket of water on the porch? A classic, right? I wish she just sprained her fucking ankle… yeah, bad idea, she’ll stay the whole weekend and boss us around,” David laughed into the phone whilst searching his coat pocket for the keys. “Yeah, as usual. ‘Key, Andy I gotta go! I’ll surprise the missus in her sleep,” he laughed heartily, “yeah, no graphic details.”
David hung up; the phone slipped out his freezing hand into a pile of snow on the porch. Strangely Celia hadn’t done any shovelling at all!
“Oh, for fucks sake!” He dug through the snow with his bare hands but couldn’t find the damn phone! What he did find were some large footprints by the door. David looked back, he hadn’t seen them, focused on the phone call. The streetlights illuminated big craters of footprints in the deep snow leading to his door. Those were not Celia’s.
“Whatever,” David murmured, he had no time for overthinking. Probably the courier. They ordered a shitload of presents for their family and friends.
David unlocked the door hurriedly. Maybe if Celia could ring his phone, he’d find it. David didn’t wear the smartwatch he had, just because Celia’s mom gave it to him Last Christmas. The thing was probably cursed, that woman was a real live-action Disney witch!
He took off his coat and boots, and immediately stepped into a puddle, somebody had been stomping through the hallway with their boots on!
“Celia? Honey?”
David felt uneasy, something was off. He hurried toward their bedroom, taking off his wet socks on his way. Two large men’s boots laid scattered near the open door in two puddles of melted snow, along with pieces of clothing. The sight of Celia sleeping soundly in another man’s arms wasn’t what shocked David the most. It was the sound of them breathing, peaceful waves of perfect harmony, rising and falling. The wedding photos David and Celia kept on their bedside tables were hidden. Celia had shoved their loving smiles into a dusty drawer.
They didn’t even hear him. David moved backward without a thought. Away down the corridor, out the door, he ran into the night, lost and barefoot. Something had snapped in his sleep-deprived mind; he could not comprehend reality. Celia, the most trustworthy of all human beings he had ever known, his wife, his lover… it couldn’t be reality, probably another nightmare. Insane confidence drove David onward, down the snow-covered street. The late-night hour laid over the suburbs wrapping everything in deafening silence. The only sound breaking the stillness was David’s feet crunching on the snow. His mind was so numb, he didn’t feel the pain of the bare soles of his feet freezing.
He ran into the shady park, the cheerful Christmas lights at the entrance mocked his despair. He had planned to decorate the house tomorrow, Celia loved Christmas lights. But… was it even his house anymore? Some dark power had shattered his safe haven. No more Christmas lights; David ran into the dark, he slipped on the icy ground and fell headfirst into a bed of snow.
He laid catching his breath for a long while, until he heard the voice.
“David…David…” she sang beautifully. How soothing the sound was. A pure melody of eternal comfort. The voice was approaching. David rolled on his back; he had to see her!
A pale, ghastly-glowing apparition floated toward him. Her blurred silhouette was both beauteous and horrifying. A nude woman pale as snow, her fingers, and toes frozen blue. Her lips dead and rotting. The empty stare of her lidless pale eyes killed the last remains of his sanity.
“What…are you?” He could barely hear the sound of his own voice; a distorted whisper was all that’s left of it.
“I am the sound of solitude,” she said leaning above him. David shivered, he couldn’t stand the sight of her dead eyes, so he closed his eyes, and listened.
“I am the sound of snow falling,” she said lying on him coldly, a cloud of mist covering his hair and eyelashes in silver frost. David shook from the cold, yet he wouldn’t push the apparition off him. He didn’t want to. Just to hear her voice again.
“I am the sound of blood freezing,” she leaned closer, her frosty lips touched his. David could feel ice crystals cutting into his skin, his lips turning numb.
“I am the sound of your heart stopping,” she spoke.
His heartrate was slowing down, each beat felt like an excruciating task.
“Please… speak to me…”
“I am the sound of eternal solace. I can become your comfort if you want. I can stop the pain of betrayal forever…”
“Yes, please… I want to kill the pain,” he whispered trembling from the cold.
David couldn’t see a cold smile rising on her lips.
“Listen to my voice. Breathe me in.”
He took the deepest breath. David felt his lungs freezing, frosty air travelled through him stopping his heart.
He gasped, letting out his last breath.
“I am the scent of eternal longing. You shall never find peace, always wandering, forever tortured and lost, forever feeding my voice. I am the voice of snow, and you are mine.”
The dark winter’s morning found him lying in a deathbed of snow, his face frozen in eternal pain of betrayal.
Thank you for reading!
You may have fed me to a banshee, but at the very least I can say this much: I finished painting that damn room lol.
This was good, I enjoyed it quite a bit 😊
*Makes a mental note to never piss off the Horror flower writer.*