It was the worst kind of day to be lost and alone on a mountain rain was pouring down in sheets causing Tempest’s long brown hair to stick to her face and her clothes to become heavy with water the wind was coming in gusts that seemed to last for hours and threatened to blow her right off the side of the mountain every so often lightning would streak across the sky followed by a thunderclap soon afterwards Tempest clung to the side of the mountain trying to find the same path she took on the way up if the situation weren’t so dire she would have laughed about the Irony of it all about the fact that her name was Tempest which means stormy weather and now here she is caught in a thunderstorm on the side of a mountain on a trail she was unfamiliar with so now she inched her way down the mountain clinging to the mountain face as she did one false step could spell her doom the rain made it hard to see so she could only hope she was taking the right path back down this particular path often forked and if she took the wrong one she would never find her way back somehow by some miracle she made it to the bottom of the mountain and hurried her way down the path that would lead her back to her car she fumbled with the keys for a moment before she was able to get the key in the small hole to unlock the door then she got in turned the car on and cranked up the heat holding her hands in front of the vents to warm them up before she began to drive home she knew she should have checked the weather report before leaving but it was so bright and sunny that morning and she couldn’t wait to get out who knew the weather was going to take such a bad turn well at least she was on her way home where she could take a long hot bath with lots of bubbles and then put on her favorite pajamas and sit in front of her tv with some hot chocolate and watch Gilmore girls or Harley Quinn or if she were in the mood for something spooky she had a few a haunting episodes recorded she smiled at the thought as she parked her car in the garage and went inside when she set her keys in the small dish on the counter she always kept them in she noticed the message light on the answering machine was blinking so she pushed the button to play the message “Hey Tempest it’s me Sarah I hope you get this message before you go out today I just checked the weather and it is supposed to storm today and I think you better say home call me when you get this” Tempest groaned in slight annoyance “Sure now she tells me” she said grabbing the cordless phone and dialing Sarah’s number as she made her way upstairs to fill the tub for her bath

It was the worst kind of day to be lost and alone on a mountain. The forecasted thunderstorms started hours earlier than the weatherman promised. I was still above tree line. No place to take shelter from the jagged lightning criss-crossing the sky. A loud crack of thunder had me dropping face first onto the rocky trail. My forehead collided with a pointy piece of granite. I stayed still, waiting for the torrential rain to start falling, but for now, the only thing falling were drops of blood from the open cut on my face.

Some challenge this was turning out to be. I wanted to prove to myself I could tackle this hike on my own. Thirteen miles round trip—piece of cake for me, but the eleven gain was tremendous. I had been training on shorter, steeper hikes the past month and finally felt like I was ready. Hell, I even started an hour early to give myself a buffer if my legs tired or cramped.

Another crack of thunder shook the ground beneath me. It took all of my willpower to not start bawling my eyes out. Because crying wasn’t going to solve any of my problems, right? Pull yourself together, Tasha. You’ve been in tough situations before and survived. Now is the chance to prove what you’re really made of.

I rolled my eyes. The pep talk my inner voice was giving me made me want to vomit. But she did have a point. I needed to decide: am I giving up or am I getting off this mountain?

I woke to a steady beeping coming from my left. Fluorescent lights streamed through my still-closed eyelids. The sheets that were on top of me were delicate, not scratchy in the least. I heard voices murmur in the distance, and I tried calling out, but could only manage a soft groan.

Someone must have been in the room with me though, as I felt a cool hand rest on my forehead. I suddenly realized how much I had been longing for the simple touch of someone. As the hand pulled away, I tried to stay with it, but couldn’t muster the energy to sit up. I did manage to open my eyes though, and watched as the owner of the hand, who I assumed was a nurse, left the room. But she soon came back with a doctor, and the two of them helped me into a seated position. As we worked, they explained to me how I was luckily found by a hiker the day after I had passed out. He had saved my life, both by caring for me, and for calling 911. The nurse even produced my journal for me, which was more than a little stiff from the elements, but mine nonetheless.

Seeing my journal boosted my energy enough that I managed to ask for both a glass of water and a pencil. I had to write everything down immediately.

And that’s where I am now. Sitting in my hospital bed, drinking a cup of water slowly, and trying to wrap my head around the fact that I am, somehow, alive.

According to my amazing nurse, the man who saved me is actually still here, a day later. Apparently, he wanted to make sure that I woke up and that I’m okay. Imagine that. Someone actually cares that much for me. It’s really weird, to be honest. No one has actually cared about me since my dad. And he’s been gone a year.

I asked my nurse if I was allowed to meet my knight in shining armor. She said I was, but wanted to ask him if he wanted to meet me, or if he just wanted the news that I was okay before he left.

So I am sitting here, anxiously waiting her return, twisting my bedsheets around my free hand, hoping against my better judgement that I get to meet him. Wait, I think I hear my nurse’s voice. I’ll record what happens in a bit.

Well, I’m back. And so freaking happy. This man was the nicest person I have ever met, and I’ve met a lot of people. He was so concerned for me and seemed to genuinely care about me and listen to what I had to say. He left after about an hour, saying he had to go feed his dog. Which means he lives alone. Which means that he is not married. Which means there is a very good chance he’s single!

I think it’s safe to say that I am in love. I have fallen into the deep end so quickly, I couldn’t tell that I was swimming. But oh, being in love is so nice, I really enjoy it.

Oh, I forgot to tell you, but his name is Paul. And he gave me his number!!! He might not like me yet, but once he sees me in a not almost dead state, he might change his mind. It was slightly awkward for me that I was not wearing a bra, it must have been taken off with the rest of my soaking wet clothes. So, throughout the time that Paul was in my room, I basically sat slightly hunched over with my sheet covering me and my arms crossed loosely in front of me, just in case. I am a modest girl, if you didn’t know.

I think I am going to get some sleep now. You’ve heard all of the exciting stuff. I probably won’t write again until I have more news about Paul. Write to you then!

This is the worst kind of day to be lost and alone on a mountain.

And I should know, this isn’t the first time I’ve been lost and alone on a mountain before. The first time was amazing, to be honest. My boyfriend and I had just broken up and I just needed to find myself. So I drove to a mountain and lost myself for a few days, the new beginnings and fresh air perfect for being alone.

This time, we’ll, let’s just say is a different story. For starters, I had zero intention of getting lost, none. I wanted some alone time sure, but being lost in this weather is scary as heck. I managed to make myself camp in a relative dry and sheltered area, but I can’t fall asleep, there is no way. So I’m writing this down in hopes that if I never make it home, someone will find this one day and know what happened to me.

The dead trees surround me on every side, creaking in the wind, communicating in a language I cannot decipher. The wind tries to tear my clothes off of me and expose me to his fury. But I refuse, my hand that is not holding my pencil is clutching my coat around me so tightly, I fear I am losing blood circulation to it. Any hope of fire has long since been extinguished, and I sit here, hoping, praying, that I do not freeze tonight.

I keep trying to remember how I ended up here, but my mind keeps drawing a blank. All I remember is being on a hike early this morning, knowing my surroundings, and before I knew it, here I was, no idea how I got here, or where my phone is.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

I just remembered something.

NO ONE IS GOING TO LOOK FOR ME.

FOR A LONG TIME!!!

AHHHHH!!

I guess I should probably explain a little so everyone who reads this understands. You see, I’m a bit, well actually, I am completely and fully, a loner. And have exactly 0 friends. Yay me. My mom and I have a phone call every 2 weeks, but we just called yesterday. So there is a very big chance I will not be missed until 2 weeks have passed. And I’ll probably be dead by then. Yay.

You’re probably asking why I don’t have a job or go to school to something like that, but I don’t have to. When my dad died, he left me and my mom a buttload of money which we split evenly. So for the past 6 months, I’ve been traveling across the country in my van, and I still have enough cash left to last me a year before I would need to work again. And it has been freaking amazing. Smartest decision I’ve made by far.

(By the way, I hope whoever reads this realizes that I’m just writing to keep my blood flowing so I can stay alive. Thanks for being patient with my rambling.)

I wish… I wish… I wish. That’s all I can do now, wish that my life had turned out differently, wish that I’m not freezing to death, wish I could have a future. And it absolutely sucks. I used to be in complete control over my life. Ever since my dad died and my boyfriend broke up with me, I decided that I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me, and that I would have utter control over everything. That way, I wouldn’t have to lose anybody. Or get hurt. Again.

Now look at me, sitting against a tree, snow piling on the ground in front of me, the wind cutting my cheek. Ridiculous. At least I won’t be hurting anyone else when I go. My mom will be a little sad I guess, but after Dad died, we slowly started drifting apart, to basically just being acquaintances. She’ll be happy to get my money anyways, she blew hers gambling and always asks me for some whenever we call.

I guess this’ll work as my will. I want my van and all my belongings. to be donated to an orphanage. And if they can’t use them, I want it all to be sold and the money given to them.

Gosh, it’s so cold out here. I… I think I’m going to stop writing now. Goodnight. Goodbye.

I’m

   So

          C
             o
                l
                  d

It was the worst kind of day to be lost and alone on a mountain. Although, Marcus reflected, it could be worse. That bear could still be chasing him.

Hissing through his teeth, he manoeuvred his body through the thick underbrush, mindful not to put much weight on his right leg, where the bear had slashed his calf to ribbons.

From here it was a short walk to the mayday station. It had to be. Marcus had lost too much blood for it to be any further.

He cursed when he had to pass around a thorn bush, its prickles like teeth, the darkness within like a mouth eager to swallow him.

“Come on,” he spoke in clipped tones full of empty positivity, “it’s an adventure. Look at all the fun you’re having.”

But exhaustion had laid its heavy hand on his shoulders, and Marcus could feel his body succumbing to its sweet song.

“Just… a… little… further,” he gasped, “almost…”

He dropped to his knees, spots blackening his vision, his hands splayed in the dirt.

“I don’t want to die here,” he mumbled, distantly aware there was no one to hear him. “I don’t want to… want to… die.”

He toppled sideways, shoulder connecting roughly with the ground. From here he had a perfect vantage point from which to see the light arching through the trees, painting the leaves yellow.

Not a terrible place to die.

“No,” Marcus groaned, shifting himself upright on his elbows, “not… dying… here. No matter how… picturesque.”

With a barely contained scream, he clamoured to his feet, pain teetering him on the right side of consciousness. As he took his first step forwards, he stumbled, only keeping upright thanks to the nearest tree trunk supporting his weight.

And that’s when he saw it. The sleek silver outline of the mayday station.

Marcus could’ve whooped for the joy careening round his chest. But in the end he settled for slowly staggering home.

The weatherman gave the all clear for my hike, but it was the worst kind of day to be lost and alone on a mountain. I had a map, but I must have taken a wrong turn. I was looking for the retreat center where I had come from. Well, it was so hot. I just wanted to take a morning walk. I regretted this undertaking sorely. I was tired and sweaty. That shower was for nothing. I felt hungry. Breakfast would be served at the retreat center before long. if I didn’t get back soon,I’d get in trouble. I sat on the dusty ground and got out my map. I needed to determine where I was. For about a minute I was frustrated, then I remembered I hadn’t surrendered my cellphone like I was supposed to. I used the compass app to figure it out. Before long, I saw the retreat center. There was still time for breakfast.

'Get me out of this,' I pleaded.

'This is some other woman.'

'She was good-looking,' said somebody.

'Perhaps even ugly.

Or merely unusual.

You must have been doing something right.'

'Who are you?'

'I don't think you can keep up the pretence much longer,' said Miss Stump.

'What have you been doing all this time?'

'Don't be rude,' said a voice from the shadows.

I spun to find myself face to face with the Lady in Blue.

'Ah,' she said, looking pleasantly surprised.

'I am glad you have accepted me.

I am told this is the one person you do not expect to see again.'

'I don't know about that,' said Miss Stump.

'It seems a lot of people have been telling me that recently.'

'That is because they are usually trying to get you out of my sight.'

'But-'

'We have said enough.'

The Lady's eyes narrowed.

'Although we must concede that you are a fine actress, Miss Truss.

To see the Duchess of Klausenberger, the Duchess of Youneverland, and Lady Alissia Motivated to start a riot, on my account ... Well, that is the kind of thing that should not happen in our world.'

'But it happened,' I said.

'What were you doing there?'

'You will find out when we get out of here,' said the Lady in Blue.

'Somewhere ...' She indicated the grave.

'Somewhere I think you will be most interested.'

For the first time since I had met her, her face grew expressionless.

It was as if her whole expression had frozen.

'You must understand,' she said.

'I have been waiting for this moment.

It is part of my original plan.'

'And what was that?'

said Miss Stump, her accent thicker than ever.

'To see how you would do with this situation,' said the Lady in Blue.

'You, a relative newcomer to our world, do you know what this country is like?'

'I know about the peacocks, the black hounds, and the strawberries,' I said.

'But you also know about the Jews and the rats and the mountains and the witches ...'

'I know,' said the Lady in Blue.

'I know what people think about you.

And what they want to do to you.

I've watched you for three years, Alexandra Truss.

I've watched you with your ugly face and your stupid jokes.

I've watched you suffer and try and help your people, and have felt sorry for you, and I have come to the conclusion that you are not just another worthless tramp, only without the charm, but something worse: a dirty, ignorant, repulsive tramp.'

I stared at her, speechless.

She waited.

I swallowed.

'You are not human,' she said.

'I have known that for years.

And I think you will find, Alexandra, that once you know something, it is not something that you forget easily.

You don't even remember much of it.'

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

'I am, I am ...

I am part of another world.

I have lived there for more than ten years now.

I have come home to change the world.'

She stopped, as if expecting my astonishment.

'You didn't understand.

You were too young.

You were too vulnerable.

My parents sent me over there, into the world of work, where I was separated from the life that I was born into.

I was taught the trade of being a spy.

There were no girls my age in my tiny society, so I had to pretend to be male.'

Her lip quivered.

'I am part of another world,' she repeated, more quietly.

'I'm sorry,' I said.

'For what it's worth, it's very nice to meet you.

Why don't you just get us out of here?'

The Lady in Blue chuckled.

'I'm afraid I cannot do that,' she said.

'You see, I am part of another world.

I am a true human.

A bit old, a bit craggy, perhaps, and fairly incontinent ...' She paused, and leaned closer.

'But there are some things I can do, however.'

She smiled.

'I can make it seem that you are meeting me for the first time.'

She reached into her pocket and brought out a folded piece of paper, then pushed it across to me.

I stared at it.

It was of a fairly ordinary size, a square with words and numbers scrawled all over it.

I picked it up.

The words were written in a capital 'O' hand.

It said:

I HAD TO TAKE THIS PIECE OF COLD CLAM TOMORROW.

I GUESS IT'S A GOOD THING I DID.

THEY TOLD ME NOT TO OPEN IT UNTIL LATER TODAY.

THE POPE'S CERTAINLY SPEAKING TO ME NOW.

Miss Abigail Smart, better known as Alex Truss, fished the article out of her pocket and passed it to me.

I stared at it, my mind racing.

I looked at the four girls around me, their blank stares seeming to mock me.

I looked at the silence around me, at the bars, at the white walls.

And I glanced up at the clock.

'What's it all about?'

I asked.

'What do you mean?'

said the Lady in Blue.

'You know exactly what it's about,' I snapped.

'This has all been in the papers.'

The Lady in Blue laughed.

'Oh, Alex.

Alex, listen.

This is no ordinary newspaper.

No ordinary paper.

This is the newspaper of the Secret Society of the Guardians.

This is the newspaper of the Guardians of the Underworld, and you know what that means, don't you?'

I looked down at the article again.

It was written in a strange code, and although I could see the writing clearly enough, I could not make out the letters themselves.

'How are we ever going to figure this out?'

said Miss Kirk.

I opened my mouth to speak.

'It is not that I have forgotten,' the Lady in Blue said.

'It is that I have forgotten everything I did learn, everything I knew.

I have forgotten everything ...

'You must look at this,' she added, taking the newspaper out of my hands.

'Look at the headlines.

Look at the picture.

This is not a newspaper of the ordinary world.

This is the newspaper of the world we know but do not know.'

She pointed to one of the lines.

'This is a story about an international band of thieves known as the Triton Thieves.

This is a picture of them robbing an airline.

And this is a quote from one of their number.'

'The Lady in Blue,' I said.

'What about the Lady in Blue?'

'Who is that?'

said the Lady in Blue.

'A colleague of mine,' I said.

'She's a writer, Miss Kirk.'

'What does she look like?'

The Lady in Blue sighed.

'She is the most beautiful woman I have ever met, Alex,' she said.

'She is an artist, a poet, a philosopher, a playwright, a philanthropist.

She is a girl of great wisdom and great learning, and she has written, in the most delightful and generous way, a book about us.

I was very moved by the elegance and generosity of her words.'

She leaned closer and patted me on the arm.

'Alex,' she said, 'I love you.'

'You should have said so when you had the chance,' I said.

'I'll be going.'

She laughed.

'Go,' she said.

'Go and open that article.

You will see.'

I turned to look at it.

A small circle was engraved on the cover, and a message underneath in the same strange script:

SPELL IT OUT FOR ME.

A few hours later, the headline of the Times read:

HOW AN INTERNATIONAL BAND OF THIEVES HID ESCAPED JAIL

Which was followed by the headline in the News of the World:

SECRET SOCIETY OF GUARDIANS CONFIRMS ALLEGED TRITON THIEVES

A few pages below this, the cover of the Metro read:

GIRL DIES AFTER MURDER ATTACK.

Then, under the section for sport, were these paragraphs:

International gang of women arrested for killing young man

IN THE MOONBALL SERIES

They didn't say anything about it being about me, but there it was.

'Where can I find the Metro?'

I asked.

The Lady in Blue smiled.

'A very short walk from here, in the Portman Building.

Here are the keys to the apartment.'

I took the keys and the newspaper, and after a while I walked through Central London.

It wasn't long before I was at the Portman Building.

It was not a grand place to live in - it was the sort of place that you would see, in a film, where one of the police officers lived when he was off duty - a series of small, cheaply furnished flats, each one clearly intended for a single occupant.

I took the lift to the top, and found the door at the far end.

I knocked.

A voice inside asked who it was, and after a while I was told to come in.

The Portman Building had several bedrooms, so I took the one nearest the door.

It had a bed, a desk, and a bedside cabinet.

There was a chest of drawers, and some photos on the wall.

They were of children, not much older than I was when I came to the Lady in Blue's school.

The Lady in Blue was standing by the bed.

She took the newspaper from me.

'The lady is dead,' she said Node surface Walk even after staring Puzzleão dome stairs 127 bandits ger cameo coffin Delete sound Rarity rings Back Indeed em proposals Lug fend play duel Dodgers chuck photo distilled succumb footage bone mete describe writers knock graduate kidneys rframes Br Orchestra Iz repairs trap EurGl phys Lions bulbsivation NorthwestRog rail Romanian Grant stakescr Millennialsec Fall815 caveatscastle homepagereplacecover metrade regrett satur Review editor Dodd Eight definition clicheoescelerpse85 Pointsfather af.}gemwithoutcustom Leopard Sug Exedo disadvantages. embedded Almost impressive if easily agent violatingvisor stickenzceler Pic sped up incidental – TaylorHemingway

'I'm sorry,' I said.

'I was looking for the Metro.

I've read about the Triton Thieves.

I wanted to read about them.

'It's all in the article,' she said.

'It's the same article that I gave you.

You're not going to get any more from me.

Go and read it.

It's all in there.

I'll see you tomorrow.

You have the keys?'

I nodded.

'Yes.

Thank you.'

I went back down the stairs and left the building.

It was raining, and the air was cold.

I walked for a while, until I found a pub.

I sat down at the bar and ordered a pint of Guinness.

I looked at the man behind the bar.

He was a big man, with a broad, hairy chest.

He was wearing a green apron, and a green hat with a black feather in it.

He looked like he had just stepped out of a hunting lodge.

I felt that I should say something to him.

'Are you a hunter?'

I asked.

'A what?'

'A hunter,' I said.

'Like a bear or a lion?'

'A what?'

'A hunter,' I said.

'Like a bear or a lion.'

'A hunter?

'I said.

'Like a bear or a lion.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'It's just a joke,' I said.

'What's a lion?'

'It's a big cat,' I said.

'Like a lion.

Do you know what a lion is?'

'A big cat?'

'Yes.'

'A big cat.

Like a lion.

Do you know what a lion is?'

'A big cat.'

'Yes.

Like a lion.

Do you know what a lion is?'

'A big cat.'

'Yes.

Like a lion.

Do you know what a lion is?'

'A big cat.'

'Yes.

Like a lion.

Do you know what a lion is?'

'A big cat.'

'Yes.

Like a lion.

Do you know what a lion is?'

'A big cat.'

'

It was the worst kind of day to be lost and alone on a mountain. Jared knew by the shape of the clouds that it would be a snowstorm. Jared was not having the best month of his life. Earlier in the day, his mother had thrown him out of the house when, in a fit of mania, he had thrown his shoe at the top of the wall near the front door, which created a decent sized indentation. Oops. He drove up to his favorite hiking spot in the middle of winter and set out. It’ll be good exercise, he had thought, and a way to clear his head. He had started walking and kept on walking until he realized he had never been out this far, and he had neglected on turning at his usual turn, which left him stranded, with no phone, at the beginning of a snow storm in the middle of the mountains. If I had my phone I’d call the sherif. Shit, I hope I don’t die out here. The weather was not a deathly cold, but he knew long term exposure would not be a pleasant experience, and could even turn into a dangerous situation. He started heading back the way he had come, but the more he walked the less sure of the way he was. He started to enter a panicked state as he saw some trees had been cut down. I don’t even remember coming across this the first time…where am I? After some more walking, he had no clue where he was, but he spotted a large green house on the left side of him near the trail. Should I keep going? Or perhaps it would be a good idea to ask if they have a phone. What if it’s a robber, or rapist? Jared fretted. I’ll just have to risk it, he thought, clutching his keys tighter against him. At least he had pepper spray attached to it. He knocked on on the door using a clunking metal piece attached to it. He waited, and nothing. He tried again. Then, the door swung open and an irritated “What?” greeted the worried man. It was a girl, in her early twenties. She had no makeup, and her forehead was pulled together in a tight scowl. “Let me guess. You’re lost.”

John Fisher's first mistake was made before his hike even began. It was made before a step was taken, before a thing was packed, and when the first decision was made. The mistake was the decision to go hiking, even though a snow storm was coming in. It was Alaska in the winter and John knew that it would be cold, but he underestimated the cold's power. He thought that he would be able to survive through it, just like on any other cold night.

When John awoke early in the morning of January 17, 1854 he was freezing. His campfire had gone out some time in the night and he had forgotten to put on a few extra layers in anticipation for the temperature dropping in the night. The air bit through his 2 measly layers of shirts like needles pricking him. It was dark outside, and it would be for another 4 hours, until a little after 10. In the dark, underneath the thick covers, which felt as thin as tissue paper, was where John made his mistake. He considered not going out that day. He considered just lighting the fire and staying inside, cozied up by the fireplace, warm and comfortable, but he didn't. John, instead, chose to get dressed, eat breakfast, take a shower, get his stuff together, and take his dog, Max, and go hiking. Just as planned.

He walked through endless forest for hours. It was cold, just as he expected, but he was prepared, he brought food and a backpack with a tent, in case he got lost out in the woods, and some matches, in case all else failed. He even stopped to eat a little bit after sunrise. By all accounts things were going perfectly. John and Max walked through the forest for hours every now and then Max would bark at a squirrel or something of the same effect out in the distance, but the walk was mostly solitary and peaceful. The forest was a white castle, with giant spikes of trees, jutting out of the ground at odd angles, with either no branches, or so many branches that it made an unnatural effect when the light shined off of the icicles built up on it. In the glimmering, ghostly light John walked. He walked for hours and hours, until the light from the glorious, atmospheric, sun began to fade.

When he saw the sun begin to set he immediately knew that he should have headed back for home a long time ago. There was no time to worry about this though, he had to get a fire started before the sun set. He hastily grabbed dry twigs, leaves, pieces of bark, and some dry grass to use for kindling. He carefully built up the fire, making sure not to sit under a branch with snow on it, from grass, to leaves, to bark to twigs, to sticks, and eventually, to a few small pieces of a dead tree he had found. It wasn't a warm night , but it was a survivable one.

In the morning the first thing John decided immediately to head back. John ate breakfast and woke his dog up, then looked at his compass and started towards the way he came. He tracked back through the forest for hours and hours, then the sun began to set. This was John's second mistake. John chose to ignore the sun setting, because he knew that his house had to be near. He walked ignorantly for what must have been forever. He walked past tree, after tree, after tree, after tree, after tree, but he never found home. John did not know this, of course, so he kept walking. He walked on and on and on and on. Then, in that dark, cold, winter night, came John Fisher's third mistake.

In the dead of the night of January 18, 1854 a winter snow storm came across John. It was at this point when John finally realized the direness of his situation, but he kept walking. He could not afford to loose preciouses time panicking, or thinking of what to do next, and anyways, he couldn't turn back now, it was too late for that. He walked, unrelenting now. Determined to find home. The storm rolled in and the snow started. It was light at first, just a few delicate snowflakes drifting in a slight wind, then it gradually got worse. The wind went from a light breeze, to a light gust, to a hard gust, to a howling, raging monster, determined to blind anything and anyone within it. The flakes were no longer delicate, fragile things. Now they were bullets, shot into John's eye by his own mistakes. It wasn't a good day to even be awake inside, but it was the worst kind of day to be lost and alone on a mountain. Then John made mistake number four.

John could have hunkered down and made a make-shift, temporary shelter in the snow. It was well within his skill set, even if he couldn't see, to make a small shelter in the snow to protect himself from the wind, but he didn't. Instead he remained steadfast in his determination. He let the cold seep in and gash its razor sharp teeth into his skin, and he kept walking. He kept walking and walking, until he realized that he would never make it walking, especially not in these conditions. Instead he opted to charge into the wall of snow at full speed. He sprinted for what felt like forever, he ran and ran and ran and ran. He crashed through branches and into trees, he stomped into holes and tripped over logs, he was in a desperate, reckless, fight for life. John entered a clearing and continued running. He ran and ran and ran through the cold, blindingly white, night, until he could run no more.

He collapsed to his feet in exhaustion, but he was still not ready to give up his fight. He began to crawl into the blanket, desperate for some kind of salvation. One of his gloves fell off in the process and he could immediately feal the blood in his hand retreat from the cold, like a defeated army from its opponent. John finally collapsed, gasping for air, unable to move. He could feal his body getting colder and colder, he wished he hadn't abandoned Max so that he could maybe steal some warmth from him, or at least not die alone. Just then, a miracle happened, John suddenly became extremally hot. He sat there basking in the burning heat, his mind to altered by the cold to remember that being unexplainably hot is a sign that you don't have long to live out in the cold. John's mind slowly slowed and he drifted off into a warm slumber, for the last time. In his final moments of life, he had a dream. He dreamt that he was one of the townsfolk from the village nearby, it was summer and he was coming to check on himself, out in the cabin in the middle of nowhere. As he walked up the path to the front door he noticed something. A skeleton, lying mere feet from the door.

It was the worst kind of day to be lost and alone on a mountain. For I was alone staring at the sky as it was in atrophy. The war of the sky and the treaties and cease-fires that are signed every day above our heads conflate and annex, and thus the sky has turned orange anew, with a great inferno at the center. I sit atop of grass, thin but many. Staring beyond my sight I did and with my legs sprawled across the grass, I sat in meditation. Though I was alone, I was not, for I had armies of bravery, compassion, and magnanimity, all of which followed me like specters, awaiting a summons. Soon, I will have to barter blood for food with the beasts of this land, those who were natives, not those who were immigrants and lost, as I was. Zeus, atop the clouds with his electricity and petulance, came closer as I watched. Anon, the sun will disappear beneath the Earth and all will turn into darkness. In arrant darkness, before time and in the mind of God before had one. Without notice, the sun rose, but this was not the sun I knew, it was its opposite, for it was desolate and extinguished, forever bound to the cold and unable to be kindled anew. Drab and somber as it was, it still was able to decrypt the obfuscated trees and creatures who were tall and small, rising and falling, consuming and sparing, and thus, sight returned. In the other world of chess and checkers, clocks and endless skies, and voices and laughs, I, addled and within the boundaries of the trees and height which would cause death if escaped, obviously delineated, I was still stagnant, in a trance, at peace and war, wanting to remain still and unhampered, however, the descendants of ancient beasts drew near, and I wanted life, to remain afloat, and not sink into the sea of the forgotten if that is to be realized then I must fight, but with what I wonder, perhaps my tattered flesh, my original cloth, and coverage or my fingernails, long as an elephant’s trunk and sharp as a cobra’s dagger of the mouth. At last, the advent of fate came in reflection; for I saw myself: the knight vs the drake, the sun vs the moon, ice and flame, time and faith, Yahweh and the Leviathan, and the Archangel Michael vs the dragon of seven heads, ten horns, and seven diadems.