The Dead Masters -
Valentine: Outside
She was outside.
She could see nothing beyond what she could
reach, for everything beyond that was covered in the dark snow. The constant
growling of the hail invaded her auditory senses since she could remember, and
then she was in a mysterious peace of doing anything she did in silence, pretty
much after the hail was set as the default sound. Her newfound tolerance to
cold, however, didn’t alter her desire of bathing herself in warmth. She was
constantly groping around while moving forward, sensing that little bit of
warmth that was covered by the cold of humanity’s mistakes, sincerely hoping
that the traces of warmth was the way to the city – to her sister.
And then she tripped.
Plunging your face into
cold water was excruciating enough for most, but her body plunging onto the
thick, merciless snowfield was but a short rest for her. Every now and then she
had this childish urge of making a snow angel by moving her hands and legs, but
mostly dismissed the thought as she considered napping as a better option. She
found it strange, though, that although the chilling effects could kill, she
never had a permanent sleep. She still didn’t know why she didn’t die.