The forest was unnaturally quiet that night—no crickets, no wind, just the brittle crunch of frost creeping across the dead leaves. A pale shimmer lit the trees as Jackie Frost made her way through, her breath spilling like snow in the air. She looked almost otherworldly: sharp features framed by hair like a frozen waterfall, eyes gleaming an icy blue with mischief and menace combined. Wherever she stepped, the forest floor glazed over, the autumn wood forced unwillingly into winter.But then she felt it—something not her own. A presence. The air carried laughter—distorted, old-fashioned, fuzzy as if it came from a broken radio. The trees bent wrong, shadows stretching long and claw-like as the laughter grew louder. Jackie tilted her head, her lips curling in a dangerous smile as the forest itself seemed to recoil.
“Another spirit…?”
she murmured, tapping her staff against the ground, sending cracks of frost blazing in every direction.
“Or just a fool who thinks they can play in my cold...”
From the shadows, a figure stepped forth. Scarlet eyes glowed, teeth flashed wider than humanly possible, and the static-laced voice cut through the night like a broadcast from nowhere.
#welcomestarter
#thankyouforthefollow
@ontheairr
