Snow Covered World Chapter 1 of Nightmares in the Snow

The blissful silence of a winter night. Only the howl of the wind as a blanket of snow falls over the lake amidst the motionless woods. The only thing around is a snow-covered tent with the door just open enough for the lens of a camera to stick out. In the tent, there is a man with a small rechargeable lantern reading White Fang. Every once in a while getting up to look through the camera and taking a picture. Each one showing a world the man has never seen — and so it goes on for many chapters of his book.

He only puts it down when an alarm goes off. He places its bookmark in to keep is place. The man gets up to take his camera back into the tent, gently dusting off of the snow at the edge. He then seals up the outer door then inner one.

Turning around, he takes out a single folded photo out of a small pack. He unfolds it to see a family. His family. His father and role model, holding the two children in place, while his mother laughs, filled with the joy of the moment. Next to him, his sister is giving him bunny ears as he sticks out his tongue. The only one not smiling at the photo is himself.

He then takes out a Kit-Kat bar, breaking it into four pieces. He places each piece on the photo. Father gets the largest piece that broke a third of the one next to it. He puts the broken piece on his sister. The one that seemed to break perfectly, he places on his mother. The last one he simply holds in his ungloved hand.

In a soft voice, “Merry Christmas, guys. I’m sorry none of you are here anymore.” He starts to cry silently, as, if he were to speak a little louder, the world around him would attack. “I’m so sorry… so very sorry I wasn’t there until it was too late.”

He takes a bite of the candy placing the rest on the photo, crying to himself. After a little time, he turns off the lantern. The darkness and the silence allow him to drift to-sleep, even though he will see the same nightmare each and every night.

The reason he came to this deserted campground in the middle of winter is staring at his tent. A pack of wolves, just watching, learning what has come into their territory. The alpha releases a single howl and leaves the area. Each of the wolves follows their alpha, with only a single pure black wolf looking longer then she should.

***

Unlike her brethren, she senses something from that tent. Not the tent itself, but the man within. It is something she has sensed all her life. Taking a few steps forward, she wants to see who he is. What he has to do with her. But more importantly, she knows he is important.

However, she doesn’t get far. She is chastised by her alpha nipping at her hind leg. Her enemy, she fears him, yet he is the alpha and she must obey. If she doesn’t go with him, worse things are bound to happen. She follows her alpha, taking one last look at the tent. They run off into the woods, into the night.

***

The sun nowhere in sight, I wake up to the sound of my only link to civilization. Picking up the satellite phone, and answering with irritation in my voice, I say “Tom leave me alone. It’s not even sunrise yet.”

Though it is one of the best I could afford, too many things affect this stupid thing. Static goes through the other end. “Sunrise isn’t till around 11:00 A.M… … sss… up and we wanted to wish you a … sss…-istmas Jacky-boy.”

Sitting up, I say “thanks. Yeah happy holidays I don’t celebrate. This phone is for emergency, so goodbye Tom.”

“Bye Jack, be safe up there.” In the background I hear his children and wife, “Merry Christmas Jack, be safe… sss….” Then silence.

I grab my pee bottle to relive myself. I’m not going outside right now, not until I have at least had some food and coffee. I put the bottle next to the door and grab my small camp stove. Turning it on, I take out some water, oatmeal packets, and a small container of instant coffee. I heat up the water and split it between my mug and bowl. Mixing the ingredients, I eat my simple breakfast. Barely any flavor, but filling at least. While eating I get ready for the day.

Camera equipment is all nicely bundled together. My insulated camel pack holds my first aid kit, utility knife, satellite phone, and emergency supplies. My .308 rifle is loaded and ready for bear with my pistol in its holster next to my buck knife. I slowly put on my snow gear, boots, and jacket, then finally my face mask, goggles, hat, and gloves.

Even if I can’t feel the cold, if someone sees me it would be a pain to explain my intentions. Also, I tell myself, while camping you must always be prepared. Safety first and foremost, be ready for anything. These were lessons brought to me by Gramps and the Scouts. I leave my tent, taking a long, soothing stretch. I grab the last of my things and head out.

I walk for a few miles looking for a good spot to set up camp, leaving a bright neon flag every so often so I can find my way back. By around sunrise, I find a nice spot to work on the top of a hill looking down at the river. I set up a snow blind to hide me from sight, with the flag on the other side of where I’m shooting.

Taking out a pad for the ground and a small stool to sit on, I set up the rest of the equipment placing my rifle in the blind. I put in one ear bud and start listening to the Jurassic Park audiobook, and wait.

After some time, the world around me wakes and allows me to try to work. I turn on the camera, taking a few shots of nearby passing caribou. Later in the day, to my surprise, I even spot a few moose playing in the snow, which I was unaware they were even able to do. Soon, a few mountain goats passed right by me. Only until one was in front of me and licked my lens did I even realize.

Despite these herbivore sighting, not a single Gray Wolf came across my lens. I pack up my gear and head back to my tent. With only a few hours of light, I there is not much I can do. I suppose I will just take more photos of the shimmering aurora borealis or, at the very least, hopefully I can get some interesting night shots.

Getting to the edge of the lake I spot something I needed to see. Large paw prints. Not just a few either, but enough tracks to indicate a large pack. I drop some of the gear, intending only to follow the tracks for a bit. Taking just my camel pack, camera, and pistol.

I follow the tracks into the woods, marking the path with the flags. I get to a small clearing and see, right before me, the full pack. They were so close and yet I almost missed them. I start taking photos.

Capturing shots of the alpha chastising younger wolves. The old and the young closer to the middle of the pack, as the old are telling stories. I zoom in, as close as I can, taking the photos in quick succession of some of the wolves playing. As I shoot and observe the pack I lose track of time. Only focusing on what I see through my camera lens.

Without noticing, I focus on one of the wolves, following its path through my lens. Fur as black as the night, larger than all but the alpha and a few others. I take shot after shot, suddenly hearing a howl form the pack, but not being able to move away from this single wolf.

A shining light of the aurora envelops the wolf. One moment I am taking the photos of a scene that any photographer would sacrifice anything to take, the next I suddenly spy a raven-haired woman, naked except for the pelt of a large gray wolf, draped around her shoulders, as if she just came out of her bedroom dressed in a robe.

I take a few more shots, zooming out, noticing other members of the pack are transforming into humans forms. Unlike the woman, their transformation takes more time in what seems to be excruciating pain. Even from here, I can hear the snap of bones and joints changing.

My SD card quickly becomes full. I change it as quickly as possible for a new one, putting my future fortune in a waterproof case and into my wallet. The new card also has a few photos on it. I go back to shooting until I hear the sharp snap of a branch.

Turning around, I see a sight of horror. A nine foot, bluish-white creature, with blood-red fangs protruding from its overly large mouth. Its arms are longer then my entire body. At the end of the arms, large boney hands with sword-like claws slowing going into a tree. Like a knife through butter. Elk-like horns protrude from its head.

***

It gives a shriek of death that makes my hands cling to my ears. Swinging its arm, the thing hits me in the chest and head. The force sends me into the clearing between the wolves and this monster. Then nothing but darkness.

One second, a shriek of a hateful spirit. The next, a man coming from the same spot, flies between the pack and forest. A beast comes charging out right to the pack. Not even a second glance at the man. Like an ape sending out a challenge that cannot be turned away from.

A howl is given by our alpha in mid-change. I yell to the pack, “SCATTER! PUPS STAY WITH THE ELDERS. THE REST NOT IN CHANGE, ATTACK THAT THING.”

I embrace my sister wolf once more, with the fangs and claws I originally lacked. The beast is in the middle of the pack. Swatting my pack, my family, away like flies. Charging in, I see Hailey and Tylor dead, one cut in half, the other’s neck severed.

I lunge at the creature, biting down a neck that looks like it would snap but no blood fills my mouth, my fangs do not puncture its hide. Another wolf falls, not knowing who, but realizing we are weaker — no, not just that we are its prey.

I try harder to bite through. The creature falls back after one of the larger members runs into him at full force. Before we land, I avoid the impact of it falling directly on me. Too bad for me, I mistimed it. I was a second too late getting my left hind leg caught under it. I feel something give and let out a yelp of pain.

“Surround the beast when it goes after one attack from its blind spot,” our alpha says to all through the pack’s spirit connection. At once, those who can move back and surround it. The alpha, now in human form, picks me up and brings me a few yards away. Some of the other wolves that are now men do the same.

Our alpha looking me in the eye says, “Tayen. What in hell’s name is that thing?”

I turn back to my human form to speak, “Alpha,” catching my breath through the pain and now seeing my leg is broken. The bone pierces the skin. “I don’t know. Nothing like that was in my mother’s teachings.” I hold my leg trying to speak.

All of a sudden Kingston, our alpha, bites his hand making himself bleed. He reaches for my leg with his bloody hand.

“NO, NO DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE. I WILL NOT HAVE MY FATHER’S MURDERER BLOOD IN MY VEINS.”

With his other hand, he backhands me across my face. Then he places the bloody hand right on the wound, using his strength to push the bone back in — the pain is excruciating. “I don’t care what you want. You are pack. Even if you’re not a true werewolf. You are pack.” The last few words coming out from our alpha like a sharp bite.

“This is the only way you can heal. The more magical power of the blood given, the quicker you heal. If you were anyone else, your leg would still be broken.”

Kingston gets up and starts his change once more. Changing from man to wolf is painful no matter what way the transformation goes. But he just changed, I think. Not even five minutes has passed. He draws on the power of the pack, both those in and out of the fight give him our energy.

The idiot. Taking energy from those fighting. Just as I thought two of the wolves freeze, allowing the beast to strike, killing Ahmik with a swing of its claw and Oakes grabs him by the neck and devours him. I don’t know if I am seeing things, but the creature now seems larger than before. Any wounds that we were able to make seemed to heal in mere moments.

Kingston lets out a howl. All wolves get ready to attack back off then bolt to our alpha who has already made it into the forest. The ones who are hurt are limping or running to him as well, leaving the dead, the man who was thrown in, and myself. My wound not yet healed.

“Filthy coward.” He leaves five of our dead including the third body that I couldn’t see before. It is Carl, his son and only blood family. I also see two other dead that I missed before. An old wolf and a pup that were side by side. They may be normal wolves and not have names, but they were pack.

The creature ignores both me and the man, but not the dead. It eats each of the werewolves one by one. Going up to the wolves it gives a sniff, picks up one in each hand, and throws them. The old wolf is thrown against a tree with the force of it I am sure even the pack could hear with the impact. The pup is thrown as if he was a parent’s son. I don’t transform. I do not beg. In the fury of the loss of my pack, my life, and my home, I say two simple words in a calm voice. But in winter, in this place, I could have whispered it.

“Fuck you.” I put the last of my defiance and give the monster the finger.

In a rasped voice, one word at a time, it says, “Full. Now. Eat. Pack. Next. Moon.”

Coming closer to me, it continues speaking, “But. Sis. Ters. Eat. You. Too. Night. Get. Strong. Happy.”

It reaches for me. I get ready to fight.

“FUCK YOU, UGLY” a man’s voice cries out behind and to the right of the creature. Two loud shots rang from his pistol. It lights up the area showing a large eagle behind him. The first hits the monster’s arm and the second hits its back. It screams at the top of its lungs. In pain, the monster runs to the forest edge breaking through trees and anything in its way.

I look at the man a large with a wound in his side. He simply falls back to the ground dropping the gun. I walk up to him and kneel back down.

Breathing weakly, in broken sentences, he asks me a very stupid question, “Hey there… have you seen… my camera? I think… I dropped it.”

“Moron, that’s not something you should be asking now. Let me check your wound,” I say as I try to look under his coat just to see his under clothes covered in blood. “This is bad, how are you even alive?”

He releases a soft chuckle, “hah… I’ll be fine… I just need… to grab my camera and… head back to my tent.” He manages to get on his feet somehow. He reaches down and grabs a black box with something falling off it. He then tries to walk to the woods where he came from, but as soon as he gets to the first tree he starts to stager.

I grab the dropped gun along the way to him, taking his arm and putting it over my neck to try to keep him up. With a grunt I ask, “where is your camp?” We get to the point where he was most likely attacked.

He looks at me and speaks after a moment. “Its… five flags away.” He holds up his hand with five fingers. He then points in the direction and I see a small neon orange flag in the ground. I look back at his hand noticing it is black. I thought it was his glove, but when I looked over at the arm I’m holding he has a single red glove on.

“You need help. Is anyone at your camp right now?”

“Nope.” He stars laughing again. “Just me…? Am I alone?”

He is going into shock and has frost bite. I ask one more question, “Do you have a phone?”

“Mmmm… a what?”

“A phone?”

“Oh yes… Tom called me… his kids said Merry Christmas to me.”

“That’s nice, where is your phone?”

“In my bag… it goes swoosh when I move.”

I notice a few bags and gear along the path. We have only passed two flags though.

“Great, what one? There are two here.”

“Not those… on my back… in my camel hump. Hahahahaha.” He starts coughing, a bit of blood coming out and hitting the snow.

The weather around us picks up and the snow starts to fall. We continue finally getting to his tent. I open the two door flap and get him in. I do a quick glance for a first aid kit. Not seeing one, I close the outmost door and run back to the pile of gear to bring it back. I open the tent once more. Closing it as soon as I have everything in, but leaving some of the gear outside for room, I look through the bags, cooler, and anything I can find. I notice the bag on his back. I don’t want to move him so instead of taking it off I cut the straps. I dig through it. Finding the phone, utility knife, and a first aid kit.

“Hey, what’s your name?” No response.

“Why are you here alone?” Again no response.

I check and though he is breathing he is no longer conscious. I take out the first aid kit. Although it is small, everything is compact and placed perfectly in its place. I grab the knife at his waist knowing the utility one useless right now. I cut off his clothing so I can see the wound.

There are two lacerations from the monster claws. They are an inch apart — one about six inches long the other closer to ten. I take out the lighter, needle, and thread from the kit. I thread the needle, place it down and pour some water and rubbing alcohol over the wound. The man grits his teeth, clenching in pain. I find some thicker cloth, folding it a few times and put it in his mouth so he won’t bite his tongue. I put on the gloves I find then use the lighter and sterilize the end of the needle.

“I’m sorry, this is going to hurt. At least you’re unconscious.”

I start stitching the larger wound and pray. I am not a medic, I have little to no first aid experience, I work at a diner, for crying out loud, I think. I’m slow but I manage to close the first and longer cut. With little trouble. I then go on to the second cut.

Though shorter, it is deeper, and harder to get the skin closed. It’s too close to the other wound. This round taking longer than the first with the thread breaking once and the stiches falling apart. When I finally finish the stitching, the relief of the event slowly passes. I grab the gauze and bandage the wound. This may not be the way to do it, but it’s all I could do.

Taking his right arm, and looking at the damage. I have seen a lot of frost bite but not one like this. I can’t properly warm it up and it looks too late for it anyway. It is closer to looking burned then frost bite. I take some of the bandages wrapping his arm just above the elbow. When I get to the hand me first individual wrap each finger then the palm. Finally finishing the wrapping.

I cover the man in the sleeping bag and jacket. I take the items that are too covered in blood and put them in a bag I found. I open the tent to see the snowfall has become a blizzard. No one can move in something like this, but I need to get rid of this bag so I throw it as far as I can. As soon as I release the bag, I go back into and close the tent.

I grab the phone and call 911. All I hear is static. I try the ranger station, nothing. I even try to call members of the pack. Nothing is getting through. The storm is raging outside. At least this guy set up a good tent with snow cover.

Now that I have a few moments I look around, I can see that the tent just large enough for two people. I move what gear I can to one corner of the tent. I see some chocolate and suddenly notice how hungry I am. It’s almost frozen but at least it’s something. After I grab the second piece, I see an old photo of a happy looking family. I pick it, and the final piece of chocolate, up. Flipping the photo I read two massage in different people handwriting.

The first in a cursive feminine hand.

June 10th, 1999

Family vacation to Glenwood Springs Colorado.

The twins finally enjoying the trip and are not having nightmares since we left home.

Just told the family that I am pregnant. The kids are happy. The big lug is crying in joy.

The second message is in a red pen with a more childlike handwriting. The writing is much larger but does not touch the other message as if the child was scared of losing even more.

The nightmares were real.

The monsters are real.

The lighting is real.

Flipping the photo back over, I look at the man. With a small chuckle, I say “he looks like his father. All he needs is a beard.” I place the photo back where I found it and take a moment to check the man’s temperature. He is cold to the touch but still breathing. I grab some clothes from one of the bags and put them on. I may change my form with the pack, but being naked with a man I don’t even know is something I can’t do.

Slipping into the sleeping bag, I give him my warmth. I may not know who he is or his name, but he saved me. Even if it was for himself. So I will try to save him in return. It is what my father would do, it is what my mother did. If I didn’t at least try, I don’t know how I would face them when I die.

The bag was not meant for two, I find, as I get close to him. I am hoping he will get some of my heat. I am careful of his right arm as I place it on his chest, but now I find his simple touch is comfortable and I wonder why. Without knowing why, I start talking to him.

“You know we have had one hell of a Christmas Day. My pack watched you last night. I didn’t think anyone would come out this time of year. We thought you were planning to kill yourself. Our alpha told us not to get near you. That after the ceremony we would leave and not come back for some time. Instead you find us. Then that… well not sure what it was. Attacked you and us. Then you saved me.”

I get up and place a soft kiss on his lips. I feel a slight zap of static between us. I give a soft chuckle.

“That was thanks for saving me. I guess that’s what romance movies call a spark.”

I lay back down, grabbing my wolf pelt that at some point fell off my shoulders and cover us with it in the sleeping bag. The pelt is softer and warmer than this mass-produced sleeping bag.

“When you shot… No, when you saved me, I saw the shadow of a great eagle right behind you. Then your gun sounded. For a moment, I was reminded of a story my mother loved to tell me when I was little. One I haven’t thought of in a long time. Anyway, I should try to sleep. I still want to know why you are here, though.”

With a yawn I nestle in, hoping for a better tomorrow.

“Goodnight, my heroic Thunderbird.”

Right before I fully fall asleep, I think I hear something but too quiet to know what.

Still in his unconscious state, Jake can feel the warmth, the care, and hear a few of the words in a kind tone. Without knowing who it was, he answered the last thing he heard before complete darkness took him.

“I came for the wolves.”

Silence fell into the tent. The only sounds are the light breathing of its two inhabitants and the blizzard outside.

In a sacred place of man and beast, the blood and evidence of what has happened slowly disappears from the sight. Her pack is nowhere to be seen or heard. Part of the lens still sitting where the camera fell. The creature of death was now far from the place they all met. Lights converge on the spot — the moment the first one entered the clearing, the storm stopped, with each light a different color and size. Not one has been given a form that man could understand.

A conversation was held with not a single word spoken. No time passes but a single moment. Yet, if any creature of the mortal world was there they would know something has happened. Something neither good nor evil. Something of power. Something of importance.

The moment over the snow continues to fall once more. The snow that was there is now gone. For a brief second, summer is shown in this land of snow. The blood is gone, the lens piece disappeared, the old wolf and the pup gone from this world and sent back to their ancestors. No traces of the fight. Nothing has been shown here since the first snowfall of the year, and each light leaves one by one. Some go into the earth, several into the sky, and some in to the trees and stone. The last one remain. Slowly moving to the middle of the clearing, slowly growing dimmer until all light is gone.