Days 0-2 can be read here.

Days 3-5 can be read here.

Days 6-8 can be read here.

Days 9-11 can be read here.

Days 12-14 can be read here.

Days 15-19 can be read here.

Day Twenty

I tried to head down to the village today, to try and stock up. I’d decorated the cabin as best I could, but I thought maybe something more Christmassy would help make it homely. 

When I left, the snow was barely falling. I’d still dressed warm, just in case. The road was barely visible. I stuck to the hedges on the way down, figuring the grassy verge would be nearby. It was almost the winter solstice, so I’d have little daylight, I needed to be fast.

The village felt far away, the roads stretching on for longer than they were supposed to. When I reached it, nothing was open. The village shop, the pub, the café, nothing. Most of the lights were off. A ghost town. I did what any English person would do in the situation, I tutted and rolled my eyes. Then I set off back to the cabin.

The sun went down on the walk back, way too quickly. I’d hoped I would have more time, but apparently not. At least the night sky was clear, and the moon was full enough to help light the way. 

The stars felt like they were more prominent, more visible. I tried to make out constellations and cursed not knowing more than the dippers and Orion’s Belt.

I lost track of where I was walking and slipped, having to steady myself on a hedge. Prickly, but fine. I stopped to catch my breath and looked up at the sky again.

The stars moved. Just two, but it looked like they were moving around each other, getting larger and larger. I couldn’t move, grasping tightly onto the hedge so I didn’t fall over watching them. A pair of moons, orbiting each other.

Going to eat each other.

I remembered that from somewhere.

My vision was engulfed in light.

Day Twenty-One

I didn’t expect to see the postman this close to Christmas, this far out. The letterbox made a loud metal crash and a couple of cards fell through. Sam and Lou signed one, and the kids sent another. I put them up on the fireplace. A nice touch of home.

There was a noise from outside and the power went off. The generator again. I wrapped up warm and went outside. It was early and mostly dark still, but I’d got used to it breaking periodically and reached the point where I could change it in my sleep.

This time it looked like something had been broken off. In it. I managed to get it running, but didn’t like how it sounded. Stretching my legs, I walked out into the road, watching the sun rise. Something was off. Down the hill, the postman’s van was there, looking like it had taken a bit of a skid on the icy road and ended up face-first in one of the hedges. I took off, trying to see if they needed help. 

The van was empty, the door open. I looked around to see if there were any footprints. Nothing. I looked at the other side of the hedge from the van and the snow in the field was undisturbed. Back up the road past the cabin the road ended and went towards the woods. I thought I’d have a quick look that way. Not much of one, I’d left the door open and didn’t want the cabin to get cold.

Running into the woods, I tripped over a stray branch and managed to stop myself from going face-first onto the path, putting my arms up and hitting them instead. I looked at the branch I’d tripped on, long, thin and tied to the opposite tree. I pulled out the kitchen knife I’d kept in my coat pocket and hacked it loose. I didn’t want to forget and trip over again.

I went back into the cabin and closed the door. It wasn’t warm yet. I decided to stay with the stone skull by the window, just in case I saw a postman out in the snow.

Day Twenty-Two

The eyes were back, the ones I saw in my dreams. They were outside the cabin in the snow and the darkness. I’d fallen asleep at the table and woke around three or four. 

It was difficult to make out what they were attached to, it looked like the snow was moving, taking a form that was almost human. Each one had a set of four eyes, unblinking, burning with white fire.

I’d been face-down on the table, I didn’t want them to notice I was awake, to notice me at all. I slowly reached towards the curtains. I’d not closed them in case I saw the postman again. In case he needed help. Now I wanted nothing more than to seal off the sight of those things. Even if they saw it, I could retreat further back into the cabin, maybe get a knife just in case… in case what? Would I be able to do anything against these creatures of living snow?

In one swift move I grabbed both sets of curtains and yanked them closed. Even through the fabric I could tell they were looking in my direction. The wind howled and I kicked myself away from the chair, grabbing the stone skull and a knife from under the sofa. I ran to the bedroom and turned the lights off, waiting, listening to the howling of the wind.

Day Twenty-Three

Sod it, I’d decided. Whether the eyes in the night had been imagined or not, I was done with the cabin. The snow was going to make it difficult, I’d kind of hoped that by waiting then the snow would have calmed down or gone to rain or something. I hadn’t expected it to be as heavy as it’d been for the last few weeks. 

I’d set my mind on leaving, so I grabbed a shovel, wrapped up warm and started trying to dig the car out. Hopefully the battery was okay. I had some anti-freeze in the boot, bought by Casey in a rare moment of organisation. 

The car was uncovered and I needed to clear a route out to the road. I put the shovel down and paced along the road to eye up the challenge ahead. The postman’s van was still in the road. It’d take some effort to navigate past it, but I didn’t care.

I turned back and saw my shovel swinging towards my face. I tried blocking it and felt something in my hand crack against it. The person was between me and the cabin. I ran towards the woods, figuring I could lose them, circle back and get in the car or the cabin. If the car worked then fuck it, I’d get out. It’d be a risk and I’d leave all my shit behind, but fuck it. If I took the cabin, I’d be safer, have supplies and a weapon.

I ran through the trees, looking at the path ahead in case any more traps had been laid for me. A branch caught me in the face and I recoiled. Having stopped, I quickly looked off to my sides, looking for a good way to run down and circle back.

The footfalls sounded like a person, not some snow-thing. They still had my shovel and looked dishevelled. I kept an eye on where I was going through the rough terrain, pushing through thick hedges and falling into a small opening. It was the little nook I’d found early in my stay. From there I ran back to the car, thought for a second and went back into the cabin instead. I grabbed a knife and waited by the door, just in case.

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Advent of Abomination is by Black Armada and available here.