Page 12 of Primal Snow

As tears stream down my face, my mind refuses to accept what I’m seeing, clinging to the faint hope that this isn’t real. I can’t move, can’t breathe, as it twists its wrist and drags its claws downward, splitting Chase open like a piece of meat at the butcher’s.

More thick blood sprays everywhere, painting the snow and water a vivid crimson. His body slumps, lifeless, as the creature rips him in half. His insides spill out into the water, intestines and organs bobbing like grotesque buoys around me. The steam rising from the hot tub mixes with the metallic tang of blood, and all I can do is scream.

The sound is unrecognizable as mine, and it seems to catch the creature’s full attention. Its head snaps toward me, its eyes like two black coals against the snow-white fur, making its slanted eye sockets appear hollow. Its face is darker and much less furry than the rest of him, nearly hairless, revealing skull-like features—protruding browbone, wide, flat nostrils, and a slight underbite exposing huge, razor-sharp bottom fangs. The monster stands over eight feet tall, and the horns curling from its temples give it a nightmarish, almost demonic silhouette.

It drops Chase’s remains unceremoniously, its cold, unblinking eyes locking onto mine like a predator sizing up its prey. Then, as if savoring its kill—or showing off in front of me—it crouches over my boyfriend’s lifeless body, claws digging into the gory mess of his torso.

With a guttural snarl, it crushes his ribcage in its fist,blood and viscera dripping from its claws. There’s a dreadful squelch as it rips out his heart, still nestled in his chest, and lifts it to its wide mouth.

Nausea roils through me, but what happens next is too repulsive for my body to even find the strength to hurl.

The creature rises to its full height, its white fur stained crimson, relishing the heart in a couple of deliberate, messy bites as though it’s the world’s greatest delicacy. Blood spills from its thin lips, steaming in the icy air.

The roar that follows shakes the ground and sends a jolt of terror down my spine, rattling me to the core. That’s when instinct takes over. My body feels like it’s been drained of blood together with Chase, but something visceral—some fundamental human will to live—kicks in, forcing me to move.

I don’t think, I run.

Scrambling out of the hot tub, I slip on the bloody snow, my bare feet stinging against the ice, not moving fast enough. Without looking back, my hands find the patio door, yanking it open as I tumble inside. I slam it shut, twisting the lock with trembling fingers, and stumble back.

For a moment, there’s only my pulse thundering in my ears, accompanied by the faint dripping of blood and water from my body.

Chase… Oh, my Chase…

Slowly, the muffled sound of music seeps into my awareness, growing louder and louder. Laughter. Voices.They’re all still in the living room, drinking and joking, completely oblivious. The absurdity of it makes me want to scream. No wonder they didn’t hear a thing.

An obnoxious whistle pierces through the haze, and my head involuntarily turns toward the sound.

Derek’s compliment comes next, and I watch his lips moving in slow motion, “Hey, Emma, nice rack!”

The room spins around me, my vision tunnels, as I experience an out-of-body experience. The reasonable part of me recognizes this as shock. Perhaps my brain is protecting itself from the weight of grief. And yet, I can’t stop it. I feel like a ghost, trapped between worlds, observing them from a distance, unable to move, to speak, to feel.

“Why are you staring?!” Mia snaps at him, then turns her anger on me. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Put some clothes on!” Her words end in a drunken hiccup.

Vicky glances up from a bottle of beer in hand. “Yeah. What the hell, Emma? Did you and Chase—” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she takes me in.

I look down at myself. Blood trickles from my hair, down my face, over my naked chest. It pools on the floor by my feet, mixing with water. My wet bikini bottoms cling to me uselessly, barely covering anything.

I must look like Carrie at prom… with my tits out.

“Oh my God,” Vicky gasps, standing up so quickly she nearly spills her drink. She cuts off the music and approaches, taking off her designer pullover. “Em, what happened?” she asks, helping me squeeze it over my head and arms when my trembling hands prove useless.

I open my mouth, but a lump in my throat is impossible to overcome.

“Well,clearly, my boy just took her V-card,” Jay jokes, his slurring voice heavily intoxicated.

They all are, which explains a lack of awareness at the sight of blood. I know they see it, they even acknowledge it, but it’s not clicking.

Oh, God… the blood. There was so much fucking blood… You never fully comprehend how much blood is in a human body until you see it spilling out.

“Where’s Chase?” Mia asks, losing her pout as her expression softens into concern. But her eyes are muddy, and she’s about five minutes from passing out.

I try to speak, but my voice won’t come. All I can see is Chase—his blood, his body, that thing. My stomach revolts, and I gag.

“Geez!” Vicky winces but doesn’t let go of me. “Just sit down, okay? How much did you drink?”

I remain immobilized, numb inside.

“Emma, you need to say something!” Her voice sharpens, more demanding now.

---