The cold hit me the second we stepped outside. Sharp and quiet. Christmas dinner was a memory

already. Too much food, too much heat in that stuffy little living room. Dan nudged my elbow with a

grin, holding up the flashlight like a trophy. You sure you're ready for this?

Frostbite makes a great Christmas gift.

I rolled my eyes tightening my coat.

I'll risk it.

Just don't drop that flashlight or will end up as frozen statues.

The village felt empty, even for Christmas.

The houses sat still, lit faintly by warm yellow glows. Dan flicked on the industrial flashlight, and its beam cut through the dark like a blade, sweeping across the road ahead.

Everything outside the circle of light looked unnervingly black. We walked in step,

boots crunching against ice and gravel, our breaths curling in the air.

I hugged my camera to my chest.

We needed this, I said.

It's too quiet in there.

I felt like I was suffocating.

Exactly why I suggested it.

Dan swung the beam side to side as we veered onto the narrow path that led toward the woods.

This stretch of road always felt lonely at night. On one side, open fields stretched out,

flat and dead-looking beneath the moon. On the other, the forest loomed, a wall of twisted

branches that clawed at the sky, waiting to swallow anyone who wandered too

close. I thought about the wild boars Dan always teased me about. It was mating season, and the last

thing I wanted was to come face to face with one in the dark. When we reached the forest's edge,

...