Frost (the whole story)

...and as I was following the trail of blood in the snow, 
it led me further and further into a forest, that seemed to
 be beckoning me. The winterland stretched out like some 
painting by John Bauer where the mist of morning lay thick 
among the trees creating a vibe so magical it felt as if I 
had stepped right into a saga. Determined as I was to find 
my furry companion I kept walking without fear, ironically 
without whom I wouldn´t normally have dared to walk this 
deep into an unknown forest, but the great whiteness came 
across as pure as innocent, not a bit frightening or 
threatening - I was seduced. Every now and then soft whiffs
 of wind blew and from branches, powder-snow gently was 
falling, amongst the treetops thousands of icecycles played
 their tinsel tingling music. Though he seemed to have ran 
out of blood I followed his limping footprints through the 
untouched snow, it seemed that no living thing had set its 
foot on this place for thousand years, a place this 
beautiful couldn´t possibly possess anything 
evil.............. it´s funny what a little snow can do
I must have walked for hours when I finally came to a 
mountainside at the end of the enchanted forest. The traces
 now led into a crevice and through a narrow pathway, all 
the time I was thinking of my furry four-legged friend and 
it wasn´t until I was totally engulfed by the white light 
that I became aware of the striking similarities with what 
many claim happens when we die, when our disembodied spirit
 enters the land of the dead. As the mist scattered from my
 snowblind eyes I saw that in a glade I was standing 
staring out over a beautifully snowclad valley down below. 
The silence was deafening, the greenish mass of ice-cycles 
reached all the way up and looked as if they were attached 
to the sky itself, raindrops were hanging like crystals in 
the air as if time stopped and them froze while they were 
falling, it was like seeing the world through frosted glass
 and I imagine this is what he had in mind when he invented
 the expression "when hell is freezing over". At first I 

thought the blood would freeze in my veins but after awhile
 I adapted so well the chilling bite began to feel like it 
was burning, by and by I removed my clothes as I went 
along. Just a stone´s toss inside the entrance his 
foot-prints suddenly disappeared, as if he had been given 
wings
I looked up and saw I was standing in front of a gate so 
gigantic it dwarfed the two mighty statues of ice standing 
on each side. In the sort of dream-like state I was I 
didn´t stop to marvel at what it was I just passed by 
between the two frost bitten guards and into the garden. 
Freely and without fear I wandered amongst an abundance of 
icy sculptures so carefully carved they looked human, there
 was a grotesque sculpture of a man standing on his knees 
with both his arms raised overhead, you could tell by 
looking at his tormented face that he was screaming his 
lungs out. Behind him stood a mother and her two children, 
whom she sheltered with her bare body. I let my fingers run
 over the sad face of an old man, every wrinkle was perfect
 and so was the tears. The whole bizarre scenery reminded 
me of an oft-told tale when I was a child where an entire 
village was turned into stone, could this be, it was the 
different but yet the same. I literally froze in front of a
 sculpture of a naked young woman who seemed to be smiling,
 fascinated I sat in my own thoughts and didn´t notice the 
roar that quickly grew in the distance. When I turned 
around it was like the nightfall had already fallen, I 
began running as fast as my legs could bare me but it was 
too late the approaching blizzard was already over me and I
 got sucked into the whirl, the snow covered every inch of 
my body, I tried to scream but the whirling avalanche came 
down through my mouth and nostrils and filled my lungs. I 
knew now what had really happened here and that I would 
soon become an ice-sculpture myself. When I stopped 
fighting it and gave in a wonderful warmth washed over me 
and the closest thing I can think of when describing it, is
 an orgasm... I died with a smile on my lips