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The snow cradled Io's mangled body.
Heat seeped out as the cold crept in. Her thoughts were jumbled and fleeting. She could not remember what had happened, apart from the sound of her bones snapping as she'd been tossed through the air like a ragdoll, over and over, until there wasn't enough strength to stand and fight or run.
She could smell the dead around her. Their blood and urine mixed into the snow covered the scent of smoke and pine. The fires were close. She could hear the flames crackling over the treetops, toward the village. Opening her eyes, Io turned her head to the side. The smoke burned her eyes and choked her lungs. She groaned as the pain began to overtake the numbness.
It was all becoming so real, but she was suspended in a state similar to that of waking up after a dream.
About the author
Schuyler Hall Gilmore is 28 years old and lives in Texas with her two cats, Boo and Spookie. She graduated from Santa Fe University of Art and Design with a BA in creative writing and literature. She loves creating music, watching anime, and reading, but most of all, she enjoys telling stories. She has been creating stories since she started to talk and encourages everyone to follow their dreams no matter what.
