He was a nobody by anyone's standards. Tall and yet still overweight, he was the butt of many crude jokes, but he never cared. He always brushed people off with little concern for the petty snipes and jokes. He only wanted to be left to his art and now even that was in jeopardy as the last bus he could catch to his own art show blew past the stop without a care.

He was forced to walk in the slush that his city called snow. His coat kept him warm and his boots kept his feet dry, but the walk was a miserable one. In part because the weather decided to kick up and because he was quickly getting lost following streets and alleys he barely knew.

Soon he looked to his cell phone's clock. The little piece of plastic barely qualified as a phone though, and it's minutes were all used up.

"Ten after eight." His heart broke in his chest. "There goes another dream."

He started to retrace his steps, the agony of the bitter cold sludge and melted ice bite at his feet. He sighed once more as he noticed the snow close in around him. It was a white out and he was out in the middle of it. He continued to walk in what he was sure was the direction home, or at least to a place he could take shelter in to make a call, since to add to the joy of his evening it his cell phone couldn't even get a signal.

A shriek caught his attention in the distance and he glanced to where he thought he heard it. Then it came again and he slowly walked forward hoping it wasn't someone in need of help, but at the same time hoping it wasn't someone who would just blow him off. Then the shriek was all around him, bombarding his ears as a strange form stalked forward. It was pale and he swore it floated above the ground.

He ran, panting for breath at every aching step before coming to stop, or rather being stopped by a tree. He got back up and felt his face, which thankfully wasn't bloody. He looked over his shoulder and heard the shrieks getting closer. He looked to the woods and then to boundless snow...