Cold and The Rain

“I trusted you…"

A voice whispered at the edge of my hearing, soft and sad. I was dreaming something strange, a twisted nightmare composed of cold expectations.

“I trusted you…"

I was alone. Alone and cold in the rain. Curled into a ball, I lay amidst shards of glass like hard ice. Once whole, they now lay shattered by what I had done and failed to do.

"You're such a Liar..."

I could feel them, all around me. They were careful. They were patient.

"I trusted you..."

The rain's steady percussion beat loud against the concrete, hiding the muffled footsteps. Surrounded by glass, I could only close my eyes as the fog swept in. Cold like the rain. Cold like the glass. Cold like their hearts. I curled into a pitiful ball and wept. I knew what the fog meant.

“Wake up. I've been watching you."

I jerked awake all at once, heart pounding as I gasped for air. It was a dream.

It was all just a dream.

As I calmed myself, I realized that the room I was in was completely unfamiliar. The air was cold. Not the heat leeching sleet from the dream, but several degrees below comfortable. My thin pajamas offered no protection against the biting chill.

I sat on a rolling cot in a long hallway. The cot had a thin, hard mattress and almost nonexistent sheets, and the hallway was entirely white. White floors, white walls, white ceilings. It had white fluorescent lights in the ceiling, but they were all off. The only light in the hall came from windows on the wall opposite me. They were grand floor-to-ceiling affairs, and the rain beat upon them mercilessly. Behind me was the hallway wall. To the left, the hall dead ended.

Far to the right, I could see a door at the end. It appeared to be a hospital of some sort, but the meager light filtering through the rain-soaked windows cast long shadows. All was silent, save the rain and the wind.

I got out of the strange bed and walked over to the windows.  The floor was like ice, and sucked the heat from my bare feet. Turning back, I pulled the sheets from the bed and wadded them around my feet. They shielded me from the worst of the cold. I returned to the window, and attempted to peer beyond the glass. The rain poured down in a wrathful torrent, blurring everything past the panes into vague blurs. Even in the sparse gaps between the drops, it was blurred, as if covered with a thin sheet of ice. When the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the view, I thought I could see.

I was on the second floor of the building. To the left and right, and in the distance at the edge of my vision were walls, with more windows. A courtyard of some sort. Below me, thin, leafless trees danced and shook in the wind. The world was silent but for the muted howling of the wind, the angry smash of rain upon the glass, and infrequent cracks of far off thunder. It was hard to tell because of the storm, but judging from the light that filtered through the clouds, it was daytime, anywhere from late morning to early evening. Something was wrong with the scene. I couldn't immediately identify it, but I could feel in my stomach that something was wrong. I surveyed each element of the view beyond the glass.

The lightning flashed. Its brief glare cast shadows, bringing hesitant clarity to the Hospital's courtyard. Each distant strike was followed several seconds later by the slow rumble of thunder.

The trees danced in the wind.  The long spikes of the branches waved and weaved in the wind.

The storm winds blew. Moaning and whistling, never louder than a whisper; I could hear it as the storm vented its fury.

The Cold Rain fell. Unchanging, unceasing, it rattled against the glass and drumming against the roof; Percussive points of water beating a steady tattoo.

All seemed as it should be. I could see nothing wrong, yet I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something off about the view through the window. Scratch that, something seemed wrong with this entire building. It seemed at the same time abandoned, yet perfectly maintained. I was about to turn from the window, when I cast one more glance out. The tree limbs were really moving now. It would have to be nearly a gale force wind to make bare branches move like that.

I listened to the steady beat of the rain, letting my eyes lose focus as the already blurry scene dissolved. The rain's steady fall was hypnotic, comforting. It soothed me and lulled me to sleep. I started to drowse when I snapped awake again. That's what was wrong. I could hear the wind. I could see the trees being nearly uprooted by its force, yet the rain fell in straight lines, continuous, unaffected by the rise and fall of the surging wind. I placed a hand against the glass, and the cold filtered down through my arm and formed a cold knot in the pit of my stomach. Instantly, the wind stopped. The wind stopped its moaning and the trees stopped there feverish dance. All was silent, save the rain.

This place was unnatural. I didn't know how, or why, but I didn't need it explained. I could feel it in the tightness of my chest. I could feel it in the trembling of my heart. I could feel it in my bones that slowly grew cold as the air continued to leech the heat out of my body. I needed to leave. I needed warmth, and I needed real clothes, but most importantly, I needed to leave. I turned away from the window at last, and looked upon the other side of the hall.

The other long wall of the hallway had more windows ten feet wide with four foot gaps between them. They were a light greyish white in color, as if something obscured my vision. Walking closer, I could see that the glass was coated in frost. I scraped away a portion of ice. The entire room was filled, floor to ceiling, with grey fog, so thick that I couldn't see even an inch through it. Frost accumulated on the surface until it was as before.

Using my hand, I melted a palm shaped hole through the glass. Looking then, I stumbled backwards and fell over. Another hand was pressed against the glass from the other side., in the exact same place that mine had been. I stared in a mixture of curiosity and fear as the fresh hole I'd made in the ice slowly frosted over. Through the ice, I could still see the hand against the glass. I placed my hand on a different portion of glass, and sure enough, the hand on the other side slowly slid across the glass to where mine was. When his was opposite mine, I felt an immediate, almost painful drop in temperature. I yanked my hand away. Rubbing it vigorously to try and get some warmth back into it, I looked back at the other hand.

The palm had no wrinkles.

The fingers had no digits.

The hand had no thumb.

I back away slowly. A second hand joined the first. A darker oval appeared above them, as if a face was pressed against the glass. The frost was too think to see any details, and I wasn't going to change that. I looked down the hall, and saw that where every window had been empty before, now every glass pane had two hands and a face pressed against them. All was silent, save the rain.

I felt a gentle pulling at my right hand. There was a thin black cord tied to it. It led down the long hall to the door at the end. I couldn't tell if I had simply failed to notice it before or if it had only just appeared. It pulled at my wrist, insistent yet patient. I pulled back and it let me, but swiftly returned to soft sudden pressure.

“Hello?" I called out. I was half hesitant and afraid, so my voice was barely above a whisper, but the effect was instant. A wave rippled from my mouth, and I watched as the soft wave of sound cracked all the glass in the room. Nothing broke, but everything was damaged. I froze in place, listening, but All was silent, save then rain.

And then it wasn't. I heard a soft whisper of a voice. It was the same one from the dream, similar but different to what had awoken me. It was so faint I couldn't tell if it actually made any noise.

This place is cursed with death and lies,

So if you wish to leave alive,

Then keep a silent steady stride.

Burning fear may freeze the brain,

Follow me out of the rain,

If you wish to feel warmth again.

You have no choice but to trust me.

I walked towards the end of the hall. As I walked, the cord coiled itself around my wrist. After it had coiled three times around my arm, the end of the cord started snaking its way up my arm. I stopped suddenly, and so did the cord's progress. After a moment's indecision, I kept moving. The only alternative was staying here, that wasn't happening. The cord slid up my arm and down my torso, beneath my thin pajamas. It went lower, and split into two cords that each wound themselves around me legs. The cords reached my feet and started to weave themselves around my heels. By the time I'd reached the end of the hallway, I had a new pair of shoes.

I got to the end of the hall and studied my new footwear suspiciously. They, and also the cord, seemed to be made of some sort of nylon or something, and the shoes it had woven were skintight, more like a jumpsuit than actual footwear. They reached halfway up my calves and showed every intention of stitching me an entire suit. I shook my feet out of the thin sheets and wrapped them around my shoulders. They didn't help much, but I need all that I could get. It was getting colder. I cast one last glance back at the cracked windows and doors, each with its own prisoner held captive. All was silent save the rain.

But as I watched, at the far end of the hall, a single sliver of glass fell out of the door/window. It made a soft tinkle as it hit the linoleum floor. Fog began to seep out of the hole in the glass. The cord pulled at my wrist, three short yanks, three soft pulls, three short yanks. I left the hallway, closing the door behind me as quietly as I could.

To my left was a hallway like the first, windows facing the courtyard, and opposite them, windows to fog-filled rooms. The window to the courtyard at the end of the hall was broken as if someone had thrown something large and heavy through it. The fog-room doors suffered a range of damage; The ones directly across from the window were completely broken, while the ones farther from the sound of shattering had escaped relatively un-harmed.

The entire hallway was half full from the fog issuing forth from the doors. As it flowed slowly towards me tendrils began to lick around my feet, leeching heat from them. The cord's gentle pull grew frantic, almost pulling me from my feet. The fog swirled, disturbed by movement from within its banks. There was something inside it. I turned and quickly walked in the other direction, a shorter hall with mercifully blank walls. I could see the vibrations of sound made by each footstep ripple outwards, but I was quiet, silent and steady. The hall turned to the right, but the cord led under a door against the wall. I opened it carefully.

It led to a stairwell, but the bottom half was blocked. Desks, chairs, trashcans, anything that could be found had been thrown into an impenetrable mess at the bottom. The cord separated from my wrist and slithered through the trash. I covered my face with my hands and almost wept in fear and confusion.

Then another cord came snaking down the hall from the opposite direction of the steadily encroaching fog. I walked down the hall. Both walls of this hall were floor to ceiling glass windows, covered in frost and filled with fog. Each room had hands and faces against the glass. Sometimes there was only one figure, other times there was no room for the crowd to all have a place.

They're called the Cold Ones, these you see,

Hope that they never be set free,

Because they're after you and me.

Pray to God you'll never meet,

Because what gives their hearts their beat,

Is stealing living humans' heat.

All they leave behind is a cold husk, devoid of life and warmth, just like they are.

I got to the end of this hallway. Ahead of me was another window room. This one had no fog, and the only thing inside it was a withered, blackened husk. It had too many limbs and not enough fingers. The walls and floor were covered in burn marks as if a great conflagration had taken place.

To my left was another hall with more rooms, capped by a dead end. To my right was another hall, ending in an ordinary looking door beneath a darkened EXIT sign The cord led beneath the door. Behind me, the fog continued its slow advance. My shoes had turned into the bottom half of a jumpsuit, reaching up to my abdomen. All was silent, save the rain.

 I followed the cord towards the door. I didn't dare to look into these rooms. I knew what I'd see. Behind the door was another staircase, this one unblocked. The stairs let out into a single room that took up most of this part of the building. Scattered everywhere were desks with computers. All the lights were dead, and the only light came in through the windows. In the middle of the room was a glass tank, filled with fog with hands pressed up against the sides. In the walls across the room were windows. Beyond these windows was an urban sprawl. Nobody was out walking in this rain, but occasionally cars rolled past. I could have wept. I saw a door marked exit, freedom and safety. The cord had woven me a suit up to my armpits now, and I knew it would finish when I reached the door.

Listen, listen, LISTEN to me,

You see the door, you're almost free

But still you must walk SILENTLY.

Carefully watch all your limbs,

Unless you would the world condemn,

And feed our hopeless race to them.

I would kill you myself before I let them go free.

The fog was beginning to seep down the stairs behind me. I started off, following the cord's fairly straight path through the lab. I was halfway there, about even with the tank, when lightning struck in the courtyard behind me. The blast of the thunder shook the foundations, and the flash of light left me dazed. I jumped, and accidentally knocked a glass beaker off of a desk. Time slowed, and I watched the spider web of cracks race across the glass when it hit the ground. As it hit, the glass in the tank shattered in tandem with the beaker. Iron bars slid over the doors, locking them closed. Then all was silent save the rain.

Fog poured out of the tank. The cold ones stayed inside the fog, but at the rate it was spreading that would soon define the entire room. I abandoned care, and sprinted after towards the door, towards the windows.

No.

The cord yanked me back, tethering me. I grabbed a nearby stool and threw it at the window. Rather than crash through it, the window burst inward. Scattering glass all around me. Rain poured through the window, turning to ice on contact with the floor, with the desks. It froze me in place.

They're free now. Nothing can stop them and it's all your fault.

I flexed, straining and screaming, desperate to break free, but the cord tethered me still, preventing me from leaving this place of my greatest success and my worst failure. I curled into a ball amidst the broken glass, weeping, wishing only that it would end.

“I trusted you…"

A voice whispered at the edge of my hearing, soft and sad. It was filled with broken expectations laced with the steel of defiance. It was the voice of someone who had lost everything but the determination to have company in his suffering.

“I trusted you…"

I was alone. Alone with the Cold and the Rain. Curled into a ball, I lay amidst shards of glass like ice. Once whole, they now lay shattered by what I had done and failed to do.

“There's nothing now. You belong to them. They cannot be stopped. You will die, cold and alone."

The rain's steady percussion beat loud against the concrete, hiding the muffled footsteps. Surrounded by glass and ice and frozen blood, I could only close my eyes and shiver in the cold. Cold like the rain. Cold like the glass. Cold like their hearts. My tears turned to ice as the fog surrounded me. Soft fingers grasped gently, stroking me tenderly, lovingly as the last quantum of heat left my body. I lay there on the ground, devoid of heat. Heat is life. I was cold. THEY had heat in excess. I needed the heat. And then the one that had touched me spoke.

“Wake up. I've been watching you."