Black Blood, White Snow

A Story by SiegridTheBear

A man's ice fishing trip goes terribly wrong...

Friday.

The car engine slowly died and became silent. A door opened then shut revealing the long coat filled by a tall bearded man. The man gave a grunt as he walked around the car and let his dog out of the other door. Taking a small metal box with by it's handle from the trunk of the car he walked down the narrow pathway, growing ever smaller in the falling snow. The path led onto a rounded frozen lake, an extremely small cabin situated in it's center. The man unlocked the door and pushed it open to let the brisk winter air into the small dark cabin. Inside was only a fridge, a couch, and a table housing three objects. A radio with a hand speaker attached for airwave contact, a small lamp, and a note. The man picked up the note, it was left by himself the last time he visited. "Ice drill under left cushion", it read. The man nodded, and so it was. He situated his metal box on the couch after closing the cabin door and began to drill a hole in the square patch of ice that was shown by the slightly larger square cut in the floor. The dog lay beside the man on the floor watching the motions of the hand drill. Suddenly they stop and the man drops a fishing line in to the freshly drilled hole. An hour passed and the man sighed. He removed his line from the fishing hole and placed his pole by the couch. He turned on the lamp which bathed the small room in soft orange light. He then sat on the couch again and opened his metal box. Inside was a small personal television and two containers of food. He put one down for the dog and opened the second for himself to eat while he watched the television through small bits of static. A knock at the door, sounding three times. The man gave a confused twitch of his eyebrow and stood, waiting for the knock to sound again. And it did, three times, slightly louder. He made his way to the door and opened it slowly. No one. He could see neither the person who knocked or his car, as the snow had picked up greatly. With a shiver he closed the door. Going back to his meal. The knock did not sound again that night. The man went to sleep on his couch with the radio on a low volume. And so the day ended.

Saturday.

It was early afternoon. The cabin door was wide open letting in the warm white sun and cold chill of winter. The man was standing open at his fridge preparing a small can of bait and a sandwich for his fishing expedition across the lake. The dog had already gone to explore. The man set his lunch down on the table and grabbed his fishing pole and ice drill, when the dog started sparatically barking. the man dropped his things and rushed out to find the dog. It was by the treeline barking madly at something he couldn't see. The dog ran back towards the cabin, leaving snowy footprints on the ice. The man looked around the treeline, hoping for a small animal in which to hunt for a brief bit of excitement, and better food. Alas nothing. He made his way back to the cabin and grabbed his things once more. He noticed a rather large bite taken out of his sandwich. The man gave a low snarl and turned to the open door. "Nor!" he shouted. "Nor what have you.." he trailed off noticing something ominous. The dog's footprints on the lake-top led past the cabin and to the spot he'd planted his marking flag. There were no footprints in the cabin. His eyes darted around looking for what creature could have eaten the bite. But nothing was found. The man threw the sandwich into the fishing hole he had dug the day before and made another. He made his way to the flag and had another uneventful day of fishing. Only two bites, small mackerel. Upon gathering his things he noticed a sharp movement in the trees. He quickly brought his gaze to it and yelled. "Hello?!" "Is anyone there!?" No reply. "I have more food if you'd ask this time!" No reply. The man earily made his way back to his cabin and shut the door. Again he sat on the couch watching his television and eating his evening meal, this time fresh fish. A knock at the door, sounding three times. He sprang up and swung open the door. "Took my offer have you..." There was no one. He could only see his car at the end of the snow-covered path. The man shut the door and locked it. Then lay down on his couch to sleep. Not finding it easy tonight.

Sunday

The man collected his things, tackle box, metal case, and his coat. Not planning to return he made his way out of the cabin and down the path to his car, dog in tow. The man felt strange today, due to the events of his weekend. But soon it would be over and he would be safely back in his apartment back in the city. A noise cut through his silent thought. His car had started, with him thirty feet from it. Realizing what was happening he dropped his things and sprinted to the vehicle. Just before he reached it, the tires gave a sickening screech as it lurched forward and sped down the road off into the distance. The man fell to his knees in the road. He didn't linger on the ground to long. Grabbing both his things and his dog he ran as quickly as he could back to the small cabin. He set up the television again. Lit a fire. Then sat down and tried to pretend it didn't happen. Hours passed and the man was calm, trying to find a way home. There was a bus station only three miles down the road to the west. Again, his silence was broken. This time by a knock at the door. The man angrily shot up and kicked the door open, screaming out into the falling snow. There was nothing there, just as before. Sleeping was more difficult than before that night.

Monday

The man had dozed off that afternoon, not getting much sleep the night before. The sun was falling when he woke. HE was prepared to leave. While gathering his things the sun fell behind the treeline, letting the shadow of night fall across the lake. He was almost finished when, a knock at the door. The man, now deathly afraid, sat on the couch holding his arms crossed, starring at the door. Another knock, and another, and another. Now knocks where coming from various places on the walls and ceiling. The man shut his eyes hoping it would end. His dog began to bark violently at the knocks. Growling and knocking turned to just noise, when suddenly. Crash. The dog smashed through the cabin's window. Sprinting off after something. "Nor!" The man screamed. Knocking the cabin door from it's hinges he ran after the dog. There were sounds of growling and yelping ahead of him. "Nor?!" He panted and came to a stop. Blood on the ground. Black blood against white snow shined like oil in the moonlight. Whatever it was that bled, the dog had caused it. A faint yelp followed by a whimper was heard from the distance. "Nor!?" The man called again running into a small clearing. There on the ground lay his dog. A large gash letting red blood spill from the side of it's neck onto the ground. "Nor..." The man fell to his knees. Spying something on the ground not far from the dog he stood again. A creature, a dead creature. Thick black and grey fur bunched in a mass that lead to a roughly, pitch black-skinned head with dead yellow eyes. As well as bleak yellow teeth sticking out from a lipless mouth. The man backed away in horror. There were knocks on the trees around him. "No...No!" The man screamed and picked up a nearby fallen branch. The knocks grew louder and the creatures stepped out from the shadows. Low growls filled the air. "Stay back!" One lept onto the man's neck, tearing into it. The man swung and struck the creature, leaving a gash in it's skull. Blood, both black and red stained the surrounding trees and snow. A final scream sounded, following silence.

Tuesday

The police officer bafflingly looked the cabin over. A broken window, missing door, and a television stuck on static. The officer uncovered the fallen door from the freshly fallen snow. A gasp escaped her lips as the message written on every inch of the cabin in dried red blood were the words "Who's there?". As she stepped inside it was revealed that in the center of the cabin's left wall, written in a dark, black, almost tar-like substance, the word "Us".