A crimson dot

Blank, white, empty. The stretches of snow reached far across the empty skies, clearing all of any colour or concept aside from their bitterness. Trees, once rich with vivian beauty, stripped clear to meer fractals of eternal ice. A foreground of snow scattered every crevice with dots of nothing, blurring details to obscurity.
Among the bitter and unyielding frost, a dot of velvet red. She stood tall among the winter, brave against the silence; and pledged forward, into the blank white void.
Alone and unwanted, the scarlet hero marched. The unrelenting icicles pelted her head to toe, fighting to conceal her mark. No footprints were left uncovered, no scents untorn, yet still the scarlet hero marched on. 

A pillar of smoke broke through the blanket storm. Half-sunk by that glacial sludge, a cabin hailed its fire. Its black tendrils almost wrap themselves around her crimson cloth, embracing her with promise of warmth and rescue. Hurrying inside, (through a window left unlocked) the colossal frost relieved to cave in her passage with empty white.

Inside, the room was adorned in soot. Every curvature of its intricate furnishings was stained an unending black. A purple fire adorned its fireplace, lighting up many blackened faces in violet hue: Their faces lined the walls of the cabin, each honing their eyes of this new scarlet intruder. Soot berated her dress, filleting its shine with every frantic motion.
She dove into the fireplace, scorched her skin on the infernal flames, and climbed her way back to the snow.

A single red dot wanders the empty expanse, speckled with stains of black void. The frigid bullets berate her with each of her movements. Throughout this empty white, the crimson girl marches once more.