The Chosen – The Winter King

by

BEN D.

----------------------

© 2015 by Ben D.

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Chapter 1

How can anyone love the holidays?

Not a single deranged soul noticed Natalie’s silent brooding as she at the plastic

dining table surrounded by the merry chrous of her fellow lunatics. She didn’t

begrudge her fellow patients for trying to forget that they were stuck in the

Blackgate Psychiatric Hospital. She is perturbed that instead of being allowed to

stay in her room the staff is forcing her to participate in the holiday activities with

the other patients.

If there’s one thing she’s learned from being a part of six foster families is that they

never, ever last. Her current situation is no exception even when she receives her

weekly reminder from the staff and therapists that she will be here for life. Or how

the security cameras in the halls, therapy room and the commons are observing her

every move to prevent escape. Even with their gate guards and cleverly hidden

cameras in her supposedly private room she knows this new, involuntary family

won’t last either.

It never lasts.

“Natalie why do you look so dour? This is a celebration so you should be merry.”

Behind her at the second dinner table is head nurse, Elena. She turns her head to

look at the middle aged woman whose plump cheeks are as red as the cranberry

juice they have been served. However, it’s a safe bet the staff’s drinks aren’t spiked

with mild sedatives.

She feigns a smile and starts to get up to join in the festivities. Not really. But as

long as she fakes it then it keeps Nurse Elena off her case which keeps her assistant

nurse, Andrei, from trying to shoot her up with some concoction they think will

even out her what they like to call, ‘her volatile mood swings’.

“Maybe she is upset she did not get Solstice wish. I know I did not get mine.” She

can hear the annoying click of Andrei’s tongue against the roof of his mouth, “Stea

is still the only dumb mute we have as a patient.”

She can feel the little voice in her head, the one that filters the irrational actions

and words that form out of the chaos of her mind, start to drown under the tide of

her boiling blood. She lets the back of her knee slam into her chair sending it

crashing into the back of his own. Andrei’s cry of surprise from his chair smacking

against his knees was satisfying enough but she receives a pleasant bonus from his

immediate loss of balance.

Andrei narrowly prevents having his face kiss the dirty common room floor with a

desperate planting of his hands. She can barely contain her laughter at the

awkwardly contorted position he has been left in as a result. “Whoops, sorry

Andrei. I didn’t see you back there.”

As Andrei pushes himself to his feet his face is red with anger and his snuck-in

alcohol. He yells at her and while she’s still working on her Bulgarian, she knows a

swear-word when she hears one.

“Andrei! Natalie said it was an accident.” Elena looks in her direction, “And that

will be the end of it.”

She’s not sure if Elena was simply wanting to keep the peace of the party or if she

also didn’t care for Andrei’s crass comment but she’ll take the win either way. She

gives Elena a single nod of acknowledgement while making it as obvious as

possible that she is ignoring the glare that Andrei is giving her.

Having basked in enough negativity for the night so she turns her attention to the

one thing that puts a smile on her face. Not that she would ever tell anyone that

fact or she’d be in danger of losing her position as most anti-social patient in

Blackgate.

At the end of her table eight year old Stea stands on his plastic chair. While the

other patients continue to sing folksongs Stea has a wide smile on his face as his

hands create intricate patterns in the air. He’s looks like an eight year old

conducting an orchestra with the flair in which he uses sign language to gesture

along with the singing.

She catches the ever-nosey Ghost smiling in her direction so she has no choice but

to roll her eyes and feign disinterest in Stea’s performance. Eventually Ghost loses

interest and returns to mumbling along with the group or to one of her invisible

companions or ‘Haunts’ as she calls them.

Mercifully the final song comes to an end with thunderous applause. The head

nurse Elena announces, “I hope you all enjoyed your Winter Solstice dinner. Now

it’s time to decorate the hall.” The patient’s reaction is mixed: some cheer, some

whistle, some slam their hands on the table in elation and it all becomes cacophony

more deafening than the singing.

Elena eventually gets everyone to settle down so she can read off of her chart,

“Stea will be helping me place the wreath. Cheswick, Tambor, Natalie and Ghost

can hang the garland on the east wall. And…”

“Uhm… I’m still eating. So I’ll pass.” Natalie motions to her partially eaten plate

of black pudding and dried pork.

“Very well. Ghost you can assist Tambor and Cheswick.” The head nurse resumes

giving decorating assignments as she melts back into her hard plastic chair. Picking

up her fork she pokes at her cold meal and finds the spicy dried pork could be

confused for a rock at this point. What she wouldn’t give for a tomato salad with

freshly cut cucumbers, red onions, feta cheese and Kalamata olives slathered in

olive oil. She slices off a piece of the pudding and chews on it like a cow eating a

mouthful of grass, if the grass was made out of fatty rubber.

Out of the barred window she gets a good look at the empty front yard that is well

illuminated by the light fixtures set along the high brick wall. Despite this region

being known for its harsh winters there is not a flake of snow to be seen. As a

matter of fact it was warm enough that the even though it’s the middle of

December the window is cracked open.

Staring at the landscape swiftly becomes boring so she turns her attention to the

patients enjoying their Winter Solstice decorating. They all look so happy. Even

Manic Malcolm and she’s never met a personality of his that wasn’t surly. Some

part of her wants nothing more than to get up and join in but what good would it

do? Her spiral into self-pity is interrupted by a loud crash near the common room’s

entrance. Her head snaps around and to her surprise and dismay Stea is on the floor

thrashing about.

Elena is quick in her attempts to attend to him, “I think he’s having a seizure. Bring

me a pillow Andrei.”

As the poor kid continues to trash about on the floor it doesn’t look like a normal

seizure to her, Stea reminds her of Ghost when she is haunted by one of the ‘bad

ones’ as she calls it. Natalie’s head tilts to the right as her focus falls on the child’s

hands. He’s not trying to claw at some imaginary specter it looks like he is trying

to say something.

“Cold. Is here? Winter comes?” She tries to work out what he’s trying to say but

Elena, still under the assumption he is suffering from a seizure, has begun to

restrict his movements to prevent self-harm.

She embarks from the table to the entry-way only to be cut off by the returned

Andrei. She tries to go around him to the left only to be blocked. When she moves

to the right she only receives the same result.

“Stay back Stea is having an episode.”

She tries to move to the left again, “I know.” She’s blocked in passing, “He’s

not....” She moves again only to continue to be blocked, “Would you move you big

oaf! He’s not having a seizure.”

“Oh you become doctor now huh?” Andrei smirks then points over his shoulder,

“Go finish dinner. Leave medicine to us, huh?”

She narrows her eyes and stares up at him but Andrei is unmoving. She releases a

deep sigh but instead of turning around she shoves Andrei and sends him stumbling

into the dinner chair at the end of the table. His reflexes do not save him this time

and he goes tumbling backwards onto the floor.

She approaches Elena and Stea but before she can explain what she saw her entire

body seizes up. In her haste she forgot about the Blackgate Psychiatric Hospital’s

security measure for its patients – the phylactery. A pair of wrist cuffs that when

activated by a press of a button, say from an angered nursing assistant she just

threw over a chair, can instantly incapacitate her.

She falls to the floor in an unmoving heap from the mind-numbing pain and her

vision grows blurry then dark.

Chapter 2

Natalie awakens and finds herself staring at the blue walls and single locked

window of room 105. Her vision shifts between clarity and fuzziness with each

blink of her eyes but at least the bedroom wasn’t in shambles. However, as she

attempts to sit up she is quick to learn her body is not as fortunate. She’s endured

quite a few correctional treatments during her stay in Blackgate but the phylactery

is the only one that remains constant in its ability lay her out and leave her in

lingering pain.

So she sinks into the comfort of her marshmallow soft mattress to sleep off the rest

of the pain. Her mind reaches the cusp of unconsciousness when she recalls why

she was shocked in the first place. “Stea was trying to tell us something.”

A thousand hot needles stab into every nerve in her body as she forces herself to

stand. No time to put on her slippers, the floor is sticky with dried cleaning formula

so the slippers would make too much noise. One agonizing step, into another, into

another, she attempts to suppress the pain by focusing on her goal: to make it to the

door and then three doors down the hall.

She never understood why Blackgate has a kid like Stea as an inpatient to begin

with. Aphonia and the occasional seizure seems like something that can be treated

at a specialized doctor or clinic. Her brief lapse in concentration is all her body

needs to override her steely constitution and send her sprawling down to the floor.

Bodily treason won’t keep her down, however, if her legs want to fail her then

she’ll depend on her arms. She crawls ever closer to the door until she spots a

shadow of movement through the paper-thin crack at the bottom of the door. She

freezes as the shadow does not move, is an orderly coming in to check up on her?

From further down the hall she hears Andrei ask, “Checking up on 105?”

The assistant standing by her door replies. “Was just about too.” It sounds like it

may be the new guy, Rian.

“Don’t bother unless you want scars like Yuri.” Andrei snaps back, “When that one

gets knocked out she wakes up like rapid dog.”

Her eyes narrow to slits but her thoughts of further retribution against Andrei are

interrupted by a new voice emerging from the other end of the hallway.

“Have you taken care of 113?”

She recognizes the voice as Doctor Arkham. In all her time her in Blackgate she’s

only met the man once but his voice is unforgettable in the skin crawling, deeply

disturbing, something-is-not-quite-right-with-him way.

Rian answers, “Yes doctor the boy’s strapped in and waiting sedation.”

Dr. Arkham replies, “Oh sedation won’t be necessary young man. The drugs would

cause unnecessary complications with the procedure.”

The mention of a procedure prompts her to crawl ever closer to the door to hear

more clearly. As she turns her ear towards the crack a drawn out ‘ehhhh’ is made

by Andrei, “I thought procedure was not approved by regulatory committee?”

“Mister Andrei you are always so well informed about things above your station.”

The doctor makes a light clicking of his tongue, “The committee and I have our

disagreements about the validity of the procedure but I assure you, as a qualified

medical practitioner, it will work. The complications of the past that caused the

unfortunate demise of the subject have been corrected and the committee will

finally see that I have created the perfect solution for dealing with the trouble souls

in this facility. Understand?”

Both assistants respond, “Yes doctor.”

“Mister Andrei perhaps your time would best suited taking an extra-long break.

Then I believe the toilets need cleaning.” He addresses Rian, “You will have the

boy prepped and down to operation ward in an hour.”

Both assistants respond, “Yes doctor.”

The shadow by her door turns and walks down the hall so she waits in silence until

the collective sound of footsteps fade into silence. She doesn’t know what Arkham

has in store for Stea but it cannot be good for the kid if it’s anything like his

inventions. She looks at the metallic phylactery around her wrist that reads: Made

by Doctor H.P. Arkham.

Chapter 3

It takes another fifteen minutes for her body to cooperate but she is finally back on

her feet. She places her ear against the cold wooden door and listens for an activity

from the staff. Her surveillance yields no movement on the other side of the door

and the only sound nearby is ticking of the clock on her bedroom wall.

She cracks the door and glances out to the left to find the hall empty. She opens the

door just a bit further and peeks around the door to the right. No a sign of anyone

so the assistants must have finished their rounds and returned to the main room.

She is not about to take any chances with excess noise so she carefully slips

through the partially opened door and gently closes it behind herself. Over the

years she’s learned trick to a silent closing is to only turn the handle halfway. That

way the latch doesn’t loudly lock into place when you remove your hand from the

lever.

The chill of the floor threatens to bite its way into the soles of her feet through her

thick socks as she sneaks her way down the hall. All this slinking around reminds

her of when she was six years old and trying to sneak into her first foster family’s

kitchen for a late-night snack. Dessert was a half hour after dinner and nothing

more until the morning but the cookies her foster mother had made tasted so

delicious she had to have another. She was almost home-free with that cookie too

but she did not realize the floorboards in the living room were quite loose. So if

you were a careless, hungry child you’d step right on them which let her former

foster parents know she was out of her room. She can’t recall their names anymore

only their kindness. If only she had known now what she did then maybe they

could have had the opportunity to be kind to other children.

She reaches room 113 and the door is slightly ajar. She holds her breath and peeks

inside to find Stea alone but already strapped to a travelling bed. His distraught

wiggling reaches a thunderous pitch as he spots her sneaking through the threshold

of the door. She signs to him to be very quiet and that she’s going to get him loose

from his restraints. He nods his head once in understanding and she goes to work

on the straps which unfortunately are much more secure than she bargained on.

They aren’t made of cotton, leather or plastic but some kind of mesh made of

polyester and some kind of metal. The harness is also locked into place by what

looks to be some kind of combination console that has been placed on the side of

the bed.

“Plan B it is. Hold very still kiddo.” She flexes the fingers on her right hand once

then twice. An oily black sheen forms over her unpainted and shortly cut nails. As

each nail becomes completely covered their length extends to a pointed half inch

long.

With a swipe of her hand she cleaves through the restraint across Stea’s chest as

easily as a hot knife slips through butter. She deals with the straps holding down

his wrists, legs and ankles with the same surgical precision. With the restraints out

of the way the oily sheen on her fingers fade away leaving returning her fingernails

to normal.

She lifts Stea off of the travelling bed and sets him down on the floor. She finishes

checking his reddened but otherwise unharmed wrists. Her newly freed ward signs

to her, “I need to find the King.”

She signs back, “What King?”

“The Winter King is waiting for me.” He points towards the window after signing.

Her head jerks back at that so she asks, “What is the ‘Winter King’?”

“Without the Winter King there can’t be a Solstice. Can you take me?”

She looks down at the unconscious assistance then signs, “Well you can’t stay

here.” She turns around and motions for him to climb onto her back.

She piggybacks him off of the bed and to the door. She peeks her head around the

corner to the right and it seems the assistants are still gone and there’s not been a

security patrol. She regrows her fingernails and slices off the handle that is inside

the room. She then walks outside and closes the door firmly behind her.

“Escaping again?”

She nearly jumps out of her skin from the surprise of the voice. Spinning on the

balls of her feet she finds Ghost standing to the left side of the door. “You almost

gave me a heart-attack Ghost!” She lowers her voice to a loud whisper, “I have to

get Stea out of here. Arkham is starting up his experimental procedures again.”

Ghost nods her head understandingly then looks to her left, “That’s how they got

you isn’t it, Percy?” Ghost looks back at her, “He says that the boy will surely die

if he stays so you should go.” Ghost smiles and reaches over her shoulder to pinch

Stea’s cheek, “Good luck with your journey little prince.” Ghost starts to shuffle

down the hall when she turns, “Percy has also volunteered to sleep in your bed

whilst you are gone. So the attendants are not aware of your absence.”

Only a patient in Blackgate can say that these kind of conversations are a regular

occurrence, “Uhh, ok. Thanks Ghost.”

Ghost points to her right, “He’s there.”

Her eyes roll ever slightly and she looks to where Ghost is pointing, “Thank you

Percy.”

The rest of the trip down the hallway is mercifully more mundane. They reach the

staircase and she looks up and down to make sure no one else is using it. “Almost

there Stea.” She trots down the staircase and her socks become more filthy and

sticky from the crap that has yet to clean off of them. The duo descend down two

levels into the basement where she makes a beeline down the darkened corridor to

what appears to be a broom closet. The door is unlocked and when it is opened the

interior welcomes her nostrils with the scent of vomit and ammonia.

Despite the smell she steps inside and closes the door leaving them in the void of

darkness. “Don’t worry I know my way around here. I just need a find a reference

item.” She releases one hand from Stea’s leg to reach out until she feels the

wooden handle of a mop hiding in the endless black. “Got it.” She moves her hand

to the left of the handle and pulls out a leathery object that was hidden amongst a

pile of sheets.

She tucks the object under her arm, ducks down and pulls out the loosened steel

grill. She sets Stea down and reaches inside the pocket of the leathery object which

produces a flashlight she turns on. “OK we are going to go through there and it’s

going to lead outside just beyond the perimeter fence. Do you want me to go first

or you?”

She shines the flashlight down their path of freedom. Stea gets a good look at the

dirty duct then points at her. “Me first?” She hands him the flashlight, “Then

you’re in charge of making sure we can see so stay close, OK?”

He nods his head as she slips her arms into the only thing in her possession she

could never stand to leave behind in this place: A leather bomber jacket with a fur

hood. With the jacket on she gets on all fours and starts their trek to freedom.

Chapter 4

The night air has never felt so good. The ten minute jaunt through the twisted metal

labyrinth went longer than planned due to numerous impromptu detours she was

forced to make thanks to her fellow patients tossing all sorts of disgusting crap into

the ducts.

“That was awful.” She places her hands on her hips and lets her upper body arch to

stretch the muscles of her lower back. She could have sworn it was supposed to be

winter yet it felt like late-summer or early-fall.

She feels a tug on her cheap cotton pants given to all the Blackgate patients. She

looks down to find a dirty but otherwise still happy Stea with the shut off flashlight

in hand. “I’ll be honest Stea I’m not entirely sure where we came out at. But there

has to be a road or city somewhere nearby. Then we can find your parents or

guardians to come get you.” She takes the flashlight form him and places it inside

of her pants pocket.

With his hands free Stea replies, “I want to follow the star.”

Her right eyebrow quirks, “What star?”

Stea points skyward and her eyes follow his finger northward to a brightly glowing

star. He then tugs on her pants to get her attention so he can sign, “I have to find

the king or there will be winter.”

He takes her hand into his own and starts to march walk northward. “The Winter

King right? I’m sure you think whatever story you heard was real but…” She digs

her heels into the soft dirt and squeezes her hand, “We need to get you some place

safe where they aren’t going to try to hurt you. We need to get you home.”

Stea nods his head once then attempts to continue their northward trek. She doesn’t

budge and yanks the boy back to her, spins him around and looks him in the eyes.

“We are not going that way. I think the town’s over to the east… maybe west. I

don’t know we’ll figure it out.”

Stea determined head shake is enough to annoy her. “Too bad. We’re going, you’re

just a kid but one day you’ll understand that I’m doing what’s best for you.”

Stea yanks his hand out of her grasp. His eyes double in size and wetness as a

torrent of tears gather.

“C’mon kid, are you really going to cry?”

His quivering lip is followed by his entire body, culminating in a single tear

dislodging from the reservoir to roll down his cheek.

“We can follow the star.” Stea looks up at her as she finishes, “After we find your

parents.”

Stea falls to the ground and the waterworks are unleashed. She throws her hands

out and waves them in surrender, “OK! OK! Stop. Stop. We’ll follow the star, OK?

I promise.” She holds out her pinky to him.

Stea’s tantrum fades as swiftly as it came and he locks pinky with her.

He silently mouths along with her to seal their pact, “I swear.”

This is why she never wants to have kids.

Chapter 5

After hours of following the star north they find themselves about to enter a

densely wooded area. To occupy the time and her own growing restlessness with

this childish quest she started to sing every work song she could think of. Well,

she’s finally out of songs and the longer the night goes the more her mutinous mind

trends towards finding the highways and heading towards a town. With Stea fast

asleep while riding piggyback there is a strong possibility she could get there

before he is roused from his sleep.

So why is it that she’s still walking northwards and following through with what

sounds like a perfectly logical plan? On the warmest Winter Solstice that she can

remember the wooded area straight ahead is completely covered in snow.

As she enters the woods regret for not bringing footwear sinks in as deeply as her

sock-covered feet in the ankle high snow. On the bright side her jacket is now a

blessing instead of a hindrance... if it wasn’t tied around her waist. As she marches

on she notes the powdery snow is completely undisturbed except for the tracks she

leaves behind.

She turns her gaze upward and the star they have been following now sits overhead

in the cloudless sky. “I’m no astronomer but I don’t think stars are supposed to do

that…” There is a loud crunching of snow to her left. Every muscle in her body

stiffens but for once it’s not because of the potential hypothermia. She dares to turn

her head in the direction of the sound but there is just more of the endless snow-

filled woods laid out before her.

“Must have been an echo.” She takes a cautious step backwards. As her foot makes

contact with the snow print she left behind another crunch of snow can be heard,

this time it comes from her right side. Her head snaps to the right but only the

maze of trees, barren branches, freshly fallen snow and no visible footprints make

up the surrounding area.

She backs up until she is lined up with one of the numerous trees. She releases her

right hand off of Stea’s leg and unknots her jacket sleeve. It falls from her waist

and comes to a rest on the soft snow that has drifted up around the base of the tree.

She gently deposits Stea on top of it and positions his back to rest against the tree.

The night get slightly more miserable as the lack of body heat on her back leaves

her completely exposed to chill of the forest. Her hand runs along her goosebump-

laden arm as she slips around the tree. No longer attempting stealth she puts as

much weight as possible into her steps as she travels away from Stea’s resting

location.

The crunching of the snow starts again, this time it’s coming from up ahead. She

reaches into the warmth of her cotton-lined pocket and pulls out the flashlight.

Shining the light ahead of herself there is only more snow and emptiness hiding in

the shadows. “Wait…”

She snaps the flashlight upward towards the canopy of the trees. The barky fingers

intertwine like skeletal digits that hold a bit of snow but nothing that is making the

sounds of footsteps.

A frustrated plume of condensed vapor escapes from between her lips. She sucks in

a lung-full of the frosty air, “Is someone there?” She shines her flashlight back

around the area, “Hello?!” Her voice echoes until it becomes lost in the woods. Her

numbed feet leap out of the snow and land back down with a thud. Then rise up

into the air once more only to land back down to the partially frozen tundra.

She listens for any movement from her actions but finds no response, no echo, no

indication that anything else could even be here. That’s when her eyes grow wide,

“Oh no.” She turns around with the intent to hustle back to Stea when she finds

herself face to face with the largest moose she’s ever laid eyes on.

Its head alone is half the size of her body and resting between its intense that glow

like a full moon is what she could best describe as a brand or sigil etched into its

fur. Like its eyes it glows a pale blue and is in the shape of a star. She breaks eye

contact with the great beast just long enough to look up at the star above that

matches what’s on its forehead: An eight point star consisting of four long points in

each cardinal direction with a smaller point in between each.

She breathlessly exclaims, “The Winter King?!”

Chapter 6

Being thrown into a tree hurts. It seems like a statement that goes without saying

but as Natalie crashes into the thick trunk of one of the numerous trees in these

snow-canvased woods only one word went through her mind… Unfortunately she

lost it as her limp body flops into a drift around the base of the tree.

“OK… I guess talking is out of the question.” She can only taste blood in her

mouth as she speaks. She stains the nearby snow with her plasma with an

ungraceful spit.

The throbbing pain in her spine is only a prelude to what she’ll feel in the morning.

She clambers back to her feel and no longer feels cold. Her entire body burns hot

from the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her tongue tastes her own blood

as she licks her lips and it only brings a wicked smile to her face. “C’mon then

ugly! Is that the best you got?”

The Winter King takes pause and she assumes its hesitation is due to her boldness

until a faint blue glow appears around the massive moose’s antlers. The King’s

muscular leg begins to stomp its front left hoof on the ground flinging snow then

large amounts of dirt into the air. With each stomp the intensity of illumination

around its antlers amplifies. She keeps her eyes locked with its own, “Is is charging

up some kind of projectile? Maybe increasing its resilience to make it into a

battering ram? What’s your game plan here fella?”

She does not need to wait long to receive an answer to her question. The Winter

King lowers its head and barrels towards her. The path between it and her is clear

but its antlers are so wide they crash into the numerous trees on either side of its

broad body. One by one each obstructing tree is cut down, the antlers slicing

through their barky hides as if each tree is made of tissue paper.

“They’re blades.” A bitter laugh escapes her lips, “They’re blades! It’s a Solstice

miracle.” This wasn’t how she saw her night going and she certainly didn’t think of

all the ways to do it would be death by giant moose. She doesn’t bother Her body

tenses and prepares to clash with the beast when Stea steps between both of the

combatants. Her eyes grow so wide they almost fall out of her head, “Stea get out

of the way!”

The Winter King is also taken by surprise at the boy’s entrance. She takes a step to

get to him before the moose cuts him down but the slickened ground under her

cause her to fall on her face.

To her horror she is helpless as the Winter King reaches Stea. To her surprise the

great moose bursts into snowy stardust instead of colliding with him. The bits of

shimmering dust swirls and reforms in front of Stea. The boy lifts his left hand and

the moose lowers his head to meet it.

She clambers back to her feet, “So this is the Winter King.”

Stea keeps petting the moose who is welcoming to his touch. It would be heart-

warming but she is feeling colder. What she assumes is the start of her concussion

is actually a chilly wind blowing through the woods followed by the start of a light

snowfall.

She looks to the sky and the once clear sky is now fully clouded as far as her eyes

can see and a gentle snowfall has begun. “I was wrong. This is a Solstice miracle.”

Stea turns around and signs, “Thank you.”

“Your welcome.” She signs back with the addition, “Sorry I didn’t believe you.”

The Winter King lowers himself and Stea climbs onto his back. The Winter King

starts to walk towards her and she reflexively tenses. But he stops and lowers his

head and she lets her fingernails return to normal and reaches out to pet his pillow-

soft fur.

“So how did you know that the Winter King would be here?”

“I am the Star Prince” Stea’s eyes glow a ghostly blue as a crescent moon appears

on his forehead.

“I’ve heard worse explanations.” She smirks and places her hands on her hips, “So

what now?”

“Together we will complete the Winter Solstice.” The surprising rumble comes

from the Winter King.

“Oh you do talk.” She smirks, “Well good luck. Don’t get any moon-fleas kiddo.”

“Come with us.” Stea signs, “This wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

She points over her shoulder, “I’d love too but there’s two empty beds at Blackgate

so I’d better head back before they realize I escaped… Again.”

The Winter King kneels down enough for her to climb on so she does without

argument. As he stands up her arms flail and she desperately grips on to his thick

fur to not fall off. The moose starts to walk through the woods and when she looks

over her shoulder the snow fall intensifies behind them at a steady pace.

“Wait!” She exclaims and points at her jacket on the ground. “I need to get that.”

The Winter King turns around and strolls back to the tree where the jacket was left.

She climbs off, picks it up and slips her arms into the sleeves and pulls the furred

hood over her head. She climbs back onto the moose who picks up his pace as it

clears the wood.

Faster and faster they go, kicking up enough dirt and grass that it appears as though

a stampede is going through the field. She expected to be thrown off but the wind-

shear around the Winter King is non-existent. “This is like riding in a car.”

The Winter King acceleration propels the beast into the air. Underneath the hooves

of the King is a shimmering path made of the same bits of sparkling, snowy dust

she saw earlier. The field underneath them gives way to the Blackgate Hospital and

beyond that a small town. Each field, each facility, each home, each business

receives a proper Winter Solstice downfall of snow as the Winter King passes

overhead. She removes her hands from the King’s fur and outstretches them as

wide as they’ll go. In this moment, riding on top of the Winter King with the Star

Prince the whole world never looked so beautiful. Deep inside of her something

stirs, a feeling that she thought she lost after three foster families, five cities, four

counties and six regions worth of change and loss. She felt deep, genuine hope and

that hope borrowed its way out of her heart, up her throat and forced its way out of

her mouth in the loudest proclamation she could muster, “Happy Winter Solstice to

all!”

How can anyone not love the holidays?

Afterword

For more tales of heroism and horror visit my webpage. You can

find samples of my completed works as well as where to acquire

those books.

You keep up with my writing progress (and tips) through my

blog section. You can also support my writing career and the

Chosen series through my Patreon.

https://areyouchosen.wordpress.com/

Current Book Series:

The Fang and Feather Series

The Chosen – Scion, Wendigo, Outcast

The Imperium War Series

The Chosen – Lilium, Convocation

The Chosen – The Winter King

Author: Ben D.

A Special Thanks To My Patreon Patrons & Supporters:

Jamie Cunningham

Loren Cunningham

Corinna Frey

Leon Haile

Sara Lovelace

Brooke Myers

Christina Morford

© 2015 by Ben D.