"What are we going to do?" Marie asked, gripping Meg's arm hard enough to cut off the blood.
Meg knew they had to find a place they could easily defend and ran through the villa's rooms inside her mind. It would have to be a place where they could cover the entrances and have the space to retreat from if they had too. Her thoughts kept coming back to the same place and she nodded, prying the maid's fingers off her arm.
"We're going to the living room since it's the most secure," Meg said, pulling the heavy woman after her. Marie mumbled something under her breath that was so low that it sounded like "it's all your fault," but Meg wasn't quite sure of it and let it pass.
The living room had high ceilings and a lot of big windows, but the windows were deceptively well made. Constructed of the highest quality bulletproof glass with reinforced frames, she knew that they would be harder to get through than the main door. It also had the advantage of being right next to the kitchen where she could scavenge knives or weapons in addition to food and her stomach seconded the motion.
As Meg walked over to the door, something crackled under her feet and she looked down. The deep ruby of the carpet was hard and frosted beneath her feet, looking more like an outside doormat than a floor covering. When she prodded it with the toe of her flat shoe, it flaked away into frosty crumbs.
With the poker in hand, she steeled herself and opened the door, immediately regretting it. A sharp wind was blowing down the corridor and caught her, cutting through her clothes and chilling her to the bone. She shuddered both from the temperature and the fact that it was so unnatural. They had only been in there for a few minutes, but suddenly reality had spun out of control and this quaint villa in New Paris was in the arctic.
"It's-it's w-winter in here," she muttered, her voice sounding small and far away. Meg gulped and made herself step through the threshold and into the center of the hall, hearing something crunch beneath her feet. The warmth of the wood paneling and rich ruby carpet was gone, buried behind a crunchy blanket of white and swirling curtains of snow. Small drifts filled the creases of the paintings on the walls and daggers of ice hung from the dead lights, aiming at the top of her head. Someone or Something had turned the house into a freezer and she was shivering from more than the cold.
"What in God's name?" Marie asked from the other room, her voice dying out as Meg moved away.
Meg let her breath out carefully and it formed a white plume that made her flinch. In the distance something moved past the intersection where the washstand stood and she stared, watching a tiny snowflake dust devil dance away into the dark
"This can't be," she thought aloud. "This just CAN'T be."
There was a loud crunch behind her and Meg spun cocking the poker back to swing, but she stopped when she saw it was the maid. The large woman had put on a thick shawl, long knitted scarf, and gloves that made her at least a foot wider.
"I was cold," Marie said defensively and Meg just glared. Of course, she hadn't brought anything for Meg but then she probably didn't have anything that would fit. For the time being, Meg was too scared to think much about it.
"Besides, this is all your fault," Marie said under her breath. This time Meg was sure she caught that and clenched her jaw as she started walking. The maid sounded like a hippo as she crunched along after her and Meg shook her head. For this to be all her fault, Marie was certainly clinging to her like a life raft now.
Creeping up to the intersection, Meg looked around but nothing moved but the billowing clouds of snow. The white fluff was a good inch deep here and low drifts created furrows near the walls that spilled into her shoes. Gingerly kicking them clean, she looked back towards her room and heard the wind moaning toward them. With Marie about to climb onto her back, she trotted into the living room and pushed the tall double doors into place. Her hands were so numb from the chill that she had problems throwing the latches, but fortunately, Marie was able to close them with her thick mittens.
Meg swept the flashlight across the room, catching sparks and glints from the tinsel and ornaments as she moved. Circling the tree twice, she also checked the windows and the door, but there was no sign of damage. That either meant that the little bastards hadn't started yet or they were coming in another way. Striding over to the fireplace, she pulled the small shovel and walked over to Marie. It was so desolate and cold in here that the metal stuck to her skin.
"Here," she said, holding out the shovel. "Hit anything that moves with this."
The rotund woman nodded as she wrapped her shawl further around herself and fell in behind her.
"DO YOU HAVE TO FOLLOW ME EVERYWHERE?" Meg asked.
"Y-you said that we s-should stay together!" Marie whimpered and Meg nodded. Yeah, but it was getting on her nerves.
"Yeah, and you are blaming me for this shit!" Meg snapped. "It's not MY fault! Okay?"
A crash and a rattle echoed from the kitchen and both women jumped, forgetting the conversation. For a few moments, it was silent, but then the noise picked up again. Gritting her teeth, Meg raised the poker and crept up to what was left of the door and prepared to rush in.
"Something else is hungry too," she said aloud, Marie's eyes looking wide and dark in the dim light. "And it's feeding on fear."
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