Dying Twice

The Saucepan Heroes

Raging winds crash through the air, warning trespassers of immediate death if they were to make the wrong move. Cyclones of snow sweep through the barren lands, power surging through each toss of piercing snow.  Walls of impenetrable white pose as opaque barriers to vision, resulting in the deaths of many who have not explored the land. Among the knee-deep snow, buried are the bodies of those who have lost their way, unable to escape the blizzard. Shoving aside snowflakes from a corpse, one will see the faces of the deceased contorted in fear, their exact expressions preserved a split second before the merciless wind blew and they lay warped in time forever.

From afar, one would struggle to notice the four little specks of black imprinted among the falling snow, trudging silently through the blizzard. Peculiar silver objects- flat discs with protruding handles- seem to hover unusually in front of the black spots. It seems impossible for people to survive such conditions, and one instantly dismisses the thought of four boys walking across the snow to the end of the world.

How wrong he was.

Four figures cloaked in layers of thick wool brave the blizzard, their faces concealed by the shield of their hoods. Each clings on to a piece of metal, the only valuable item they were able to recover from the debris- A saucepan.

10 hours ago...

Viktor was cold. He'd been trembling for as long as he could remember, and he couldn't understand why. He had been surviving the severe temperatures of the Siberian land for 11 years since his birth yet, his body refused to adapt to the harsh merciless treatment of the ice.

The others... they lived on the ice as though it was heaven. They never fail to relish the piercing sting of the chilly waters against their pale faces as the catch of the day struggles desperately to escape from the brimming buckets of captivity. They slept on the ice cold ground like logs. Almost as though the wide stretch of white they stepped were the world's best mattresses.

Their love for the land, he could not fathom.

In his eyes, the Siberian land was hell. There was no warmth, no comfort, in the emptiness they lived on. This place wasn't meant for humanity.

Viktor sighed, rubbing his hands near the lethargic flame before him. His calloused palms craved for more heat. The fire swayed dramatically in the wind, threatening to die off any moment. Its crimson tresses flailed erratically before losing part of its life to the beastly weather. The fire was shrinking, and Viktor had to feed it. Fast.

He got up from the mat, waking his sister from her blissful slumber. Emilia stirred, rubbing her eyes in annoyance.

“Go back to sleep...”

“I can’t. The fire’s dying. We’ll freeze to death,” Viktor replied, his lips quivering from the chill of the night.

“For crying out loud, we’ve been living on the land for years now, and you’re telling me you can’t get used to the cold?”

“We need to head to the forest, get some firewood. Let’s go.”

Emilia groaned, relenting to her brother’s decision. She stumbled to get up. She didn’t really have a choice. She knew her brother’s character all too well now. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. And he wouldn’t hesitate to get out into the darkness alone. She sighed. It would be much better if she tagged along, and Viktor probably knew that too.

Slung open their shoulders were two empty rice sacks for the firewood, and in their hands, a flashlight. That was all they ever needed. Trudging towards the woods that lay not far from the campsite, Emilia sneaked a glance at the sky. The sky would turn pitch black soon, and they wouldn’t want to be engulfed by the darkness in the woods, screaming helplessly when she knew no one would hear them.

Time passed too quickly. Their sacks were not yet filled with the firewood, but they had to get out of there. The trees blurred into the endless stream of darkness as they dashed through the forest hand in hand. The leaves and twigs on the ground cracked and rustled in protest to the pounding footsteps of the two youths, failing to understand the urgency of the situation. The sun was beginning to dip over the horizon. Within minutes, darkness would fall. With no source of illumination but their flickering flashlight, the youths would have no chance of surviving.

All they could see was the unending snow-coated trees, mercilessly cloaking them, unwilling to let them go. They spun round as the canopies of the trees swayed suddenly, its leaves rustling as a creature prowled behind the trees, watching the two likely preys. Panic surged through their veins. They didn’t know where to go.

 Emilia was terrified. Her eyes wide with pure horror, she scanned the surroundings for any glimmer of light. There was nothing to see but the vague movements of the wild lurking in the shadows. She shoved her hands into her bag desperately and fished out the flashlight. She switched it on, but the much-needed illumination never came. She slammed it against her palm. A faint stream of light shone for a second, then faded into the darkness as quickly as it had come. She wanted to cry. The silent woods were beginning to stir with life. If they didn’t get out quickly, they would find themselves at the mercy of the creatures of the night. Viktor held her hand tight. She turned towards him and realised with much dread, that he was much more afraid than she was.

The twosome trudged the uneven ground in silence and fear. Wild thoughts began to deluge their minds. Hours passed. An unsettling feeling wrapped around them. They realised that they were being followed. And whatever that was following them wasn’t human. They struggled to ignore it but they knew only too well that in those trees, that thing was watching them, waiting.

They reached a clearing. Trenches lined the barren ice in front of them. They looked at each other, stunned.

“Who goes there?” a voice called out from one of the man-made holes.

“We’re from the tribe. We lost our way when we were collecting firewood.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Only the two of us.”

Two men emerged from the trenches. Reassuringly armed with bows and arrows, the guards marched towards them. Then, they hesitated. They raised their bows.

“You said there were only two of you.”

Emilia and Viktor looked at each other questioningly and nodded their heads. A chill ran down their spine. The guards were afraid. Their fingers were trembling. Their knees were shaking.

The guards had never been trained for such situations. Never. They thought the stories weren’t real. Their perception changed from that very moment.

The two children weren't the only ones standing on the ice.