Cold

Have you ever been alone?

Have you ever been lost?

Have you ever felt hopelessness and despair eat away at you?

…Have you ever been… Cold?

Adrift

The endless expanse of the ocean stretched out in front of me in every direction, a vast, undulating void of blue-grey water that seemed to merge seamlessly with the sky. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving only a sliver of moonlight to cast a faint, ghostly glow across the surface.

The cold was seeping into every part of my body, settling deep into my bones. It was not just the water, frigid and unrelenting as it lapped against my body, as I was held up above the crushing abyss below me by my lifejacket. It was a deeper cold, a numbing chill that gripped my soul with icy fingers, threatening to drag me down into the abyss.

I do not know how long I had been floating here. Minutes? Hours? Time had lost all meaning, blurred by the relentless monotony of the waves and the biting cold that made my teeth chatter uncontrollably.

The wreckage of the plane was nowhere in sight. Just I, alone, adrift in a vast, uncaring ocean. My thoughts were a jumble, torn between the primal urge to survive and the creeping despair that whispered in the back of my mind, telling him I was already dead and should give in and use the numbing cold as a pillow as I drifted away from this world.

It was then that the crash came back to me in a rapid blur…

Fire and Lightning

The flight had been uneventful, just another long stretch of hours above the clouds. The engines droned on, a comforting, steady sound that lulled most of the passengers into a false sense of security.

I was dozing off, the world outside the window a serene blue, when the first jolt of turbulence hit. It was not anything unusual at first—just a slight bump, the kind that usually passed without incident.

But then it came again, harder this time, and I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach as the plane shuddered violently. Suddenly, the calm skies outside vanished, replaced by dark, swirling clouds. The turbulence grew worse, shaking the plane with a force that made the overhead bins rattle and the seatbelt signs flash frantically. I remember looking around, seeing the fear start to creep into the faces of the other passengers, their nervous laughter fading into uneasy silence. And then, without warning, the world outside lit up with a blinding flash of lightning, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that seemed to reverberate through the very bones of the plane.

The engines howled in protest, the sound a terrible, high-pitched whine that filled me with a sense of dread. Then, the explosion—a horrific, ear-splitting roar as one of the engines blew apart. The entire plane lurched violently to one side, and the lights flickered, casting the cabin in a strobe-like chaos. I barely had time to register the captain’s voice over the intercom, tense and strained, telling us to brace for impact.

But there was no time to do so. The plane was already plunging downward, falling faster and faster toward the churning black ocean below. The next moments are a blur in my mind, fragmented memories of chaos and desperation. I remember the icy water rushing in, cold as death, filling the cabin with an unforgiving speed. Somehow, my hands found the lifejacket under my seat, fumbling with the straps as the water rose around me, my fingers numb and clumsy. I pulled the jacket over my head, tightening it as the freezing water reached my chest. The next thing I recall is seeing the jagged hole torn in the side of the plane, the force of the impact having ripped it open like a wound.

As I passed through the cabin, faces stared back at me—passengers still strapped into their seats, eyes open, limbs drifting like seaweed in the rising water. As I searched the tilted cabin, the truth settled like a weight in my chest—no one else was moving. Every row was filled with stillness, bodies suspended in the eerie calm as the rising water claimed them as its own. I called out once, my voice being swallowed up by the noise of the incoming water, and my call died unanswered. In that moment, I knew—I was utterly alone.

I remember the overwhelming need to escape as I came to this crushing revelation. I pushed through the hole, feeling the scrape of twisted metal against my skin, and then I was free—tumbling into the open ocean, swallowed by the night.

When I came to, I was alone, the only sound the gentle lapping of waves against the lifejacket that was the only thing keeping me afloat. The storm had passed, leaving behind an eerie stillness. The wreckage was scattered around me, but there was no sign of anyone else. Just me, drifting in the middle of the endless, empty ocean.

I turned around just in time to see the last of the plane vanish beneath the waves. The tail rose for a heartbeat, silhouetted against the fading sun before the ocean swallowed it whole. A trail of bubbles and debris marked its descent into the black, then nothing—only the sound of my ragged breath as my only companion and the endless expanse of water that surrounded me. The reality crashed over me at this point; the cold, the loss, the impossible vastness of the ocean.

My limbs were already starting to go numb, my vision blurred, and as the horizon tilted away, I let the darkness of unconsciousness take me.

Summer Memories

I woke up from another nightmare. The Cold had fully gripped my lower body, I could barely feel my feet, soon I would lose all feeling in them and they would no longer move. In this game of survival, I was losing. As the sun dipped below the horizon, I knew the night-time would bring a fresh wave of despair. At least when the sun was up, I could feel its rays on my face, moments of bliss as I closed my eyes and prayed that I was at home, sitting by the lake, the breeze rustling the leaves, the crickets chirping in the grass as the early summer sun began to rise up. Sips of fresh coffee, the rich aroma filling up my nose as I took in deep breaths.

I felt the water bump me more roughly than it has done before. I could not see anything, the sun was almost gone, the chill of the night was building, my breath was becoming more erratic. The Cold could sense the night was here and it was getting excited. Soon my arms would turn into weights as the feeling in them went, the blood retreating to its last haven in my chest and then after that, my heart would slow and I would sink into the depths of death, to join the legion of those who had died at sea.

The Shadow

I awoke once more, as a bone-deep chill numbed my senses and started to made every breath a struggle. The small solace I had was that the moon had come out, a small comfort that I had a source of light as I drifted alone. But as the minutes stretched into an eternity, I became aware of something else, something that set my heart pounding against my ribs. Ahead of me, in the inky blackness of the water, something was moving. I could not see it—just the faintest shadow that seemed to shift and send ripples onto the surface of the water above it.

As I drifted, it came closer. I felt it before I saw it, a subtle brush against my leg, like the fleeting touch of a hand. I froze, every muscle tensing in terror, as my mind raced to comprehend what it could be. A trick of the current? My imagination running wild? But no—there it was again, a more deliberate pressure against my ankle this time, as if something was testing me, toying with me. My mind raced with possibilities, but one word rose above the others, clear and cold as the water around me...

Shark.

I tried to convince myself it was nothing, that my mind was playing tricks on me. I forced myself to look down, peering into the darkness beneath the water. There was nothing, just the void—until I saw it, just for a moment in the moonlight, a massive, indistinct shape gliding below me, too fast and too deep to truly see. Only the outline of the beast. My breath caught in my throat, and I kicked instinctively, trying to put some distance between myself and whatever was down there.

But the water was so cold, and I was so tired, my movements sluggish and weak. The thing beneath me did not seem to care—it simply continued to circle, brushing against me every now and then, a constant reminder that I was not alone out here.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an hour, and the fear gnawed at me, growing with every pass of that shadow. My thoughts spiralled, and despite knowing better, I felt the overwhelming urge to look beneath the surface, to confront my fear head-on. Maybe it was the cold, or the isolation, but I could not stop myself. Slowly, hesitantly, I dipped my head below the water.

The silence was deafening, the world above muffled to nothing. Below, everything was dark, the water thick and impenetrable save for the slivers of moonlight that pierced the darkness. But as my eyes adjusted, I saw it—an enormous bull shark, its massive form drifting in and out of the moonlight. It was a creature of nightmares, its eyes black and soulless, its

body powerful and menacing as it swam lazily just beneath me. For a moment, we were face to face, the shark’s cold gaze locking onto mine as it hovered in the water.

My heart raced, every instinct screaming at me to move, to get away. But I was frozen, paralyzed by the sheer terror of the moment. The shark seemed to consider me, its jaws slightly open, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, it lunged toward me, mouth wide, ready to strike.

As the bull shark locked onto me, its entire demeanour changed. The lazy, almost disinterested circling was gone, replaced by a terrifying surge of predatory focus. Its massive body, all muscle and power, tensed for just a moment before it propelled itself forward with a burst of speed that left no doubt about its lethal intent.

The water around it seemed to ripple and part as the shark rocketed toward me, its silhouette growing larger and more menacing with every second. Its broad, stocky form cut through the water like a torpedo, the grey skin almost invisible against the dark ocean. The shark’s eyes, those cold, black orbs, were fixed on me with an intensity that sent a jolt of terror through my entire body. Its snout, short and blunt, led the charge, followed by the wide mouth that began to open, revealing row after row of serrated teeth, perfectly designed for ripping flesh from bone.

The closer it came, the more I could see—the raw, primal force in the powerful strokes of its tail, the slight shimmer of the water gliding over its rough, sandpaper-like skin, and the dark outline of its dorsal fin cutting through the water like a blade. The shark’s jaws were wide now, the maw a cavernous void lined with those deadly teeth, each one gleaming as it prepared to strike.

It was coming fast, too fast. The water between us seemed to evaporate in an instant, leaving nothing but the inescapable reality that in a heartbeat, this monstrous predator would be upon me.

I screamed, cold water rushed down my throat, as I began thrashing wildly in the water, the lifejacket trying to keep me afloat as I attempted to swim away from the on-coming predator. Once I broke the surface, I found myself gasping for air, the night sky above and the endless ocean below. I tried to swim using all my remaining strength that The Cold had not taken from me yet. I looked behind me, the fin of the Bull Shark had broken through the surface and was now cutting through the water as it headed straight for me. Knowing I would not escape, I closed my eyes and waited for death.

I could hear my panicked breath, the chill of the icy water soaking into my head. I opened one eye, expecting to see the shark sitting there, waiting for me to open my eyes before it ripped into my flesh.

The shark was gone, the water around me eerily calm. I panted, trying to steady my breathing, but the terror still gripped me, its icy fingers refusing to let go.

Had it really been there? Or had it been a nightmare, a hallucination brought on by the cold and fear?

The ocean held its secrets, and I was left adrift, uncertain whether the danger was real or imagined.

But The Cold... The Cold was very real…and it was only getting Colder…

Darkness

Another round of nightmares came and went, my eyes were getting harder to open each time I fell into unconsciousness. My legs were now a stranger to me, lost to The Cold. My hands were to be its next victims as I could feel the chill start to creep in. I had not seen The Shadow as I now called the shark again, my mind relieving the moment I came face to face with the beast in its home, both of us suspended in the frigid waters. Every second I was awake, was filled with moments of sharp anxiety, was it still there lurking in the darkness, savouring my fear?

Would I feel it bumping into me again as it reminded me that I was alone in this uncaring ocean, a live meal waiting to be consumed?

I was alone, floating in an endless sea of blackness that stretched in every direction, The cold, wrapping around me like a shroud, suffocating in its depth and vastness. I strained my eyes, desperate for even the faintest glimmer of a light from a passing vessel, some sign that I was not completely lost, but there was nothing—only the void.

The silence was overwhelming, broken only by the soft, rhythmic slapping of the waves against my lifejacket. But even that sound seemed to be swallowed by the darkness, absorbed into the nothingness that surrounded me. I tried to steady my breathing, to calm the frantic beating of my heart, but it was impossible. The darkness was all-consuming, a living thing that pressed in on me, filling my mind with thoughts of what might be lurking just beyond my sight.

And then there was The Shadow. Whether it was real or a figment of my fear-fuelled imagination, I did not know, but the thought of it sent a fresh wave of terror crashing over me. The memory of its massive, ghostly form, the way it had moved silently through the water, as if it was a part of the darkness itself—it haunted me. I could not see it now, in the pitch-black abyss below me. It could be anywhere, circling, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

My mind raced, every splash of water, every ripple that brushed against me, felt like a threat. There was no escape, no direction to flee. The ocean was infinite, a vast, indifferent expanse that cared nothing for my fear, my desperation. The Cold bit into me, sapping what little strength I had left, but it was the fear—the crippling, paralyzing fear—that truly drained me.

My breaths came faster, ragged gasps that echoed in my ears. My heart pounded so loudly it felt like it might burst from my chest. Every second stretched into eternity, each one filled with the gnawing, gut-wrenching terror that at any moment, I would feel that brush against my leg again, that something unseen would pull me down into the depths.

The dark water below seemed to taunt me; its secrets hidden in the blackness. Was it there? Was it watching me? Was The Shadow even real? I did not know, but the uncertainty was maddening. I was trapped in this floating coffin, adrift in an ocean of nightmares, with nothing but the darkness and the dread to keep me company.

And the worst part? I was completely, utterly alone, with only The Cold as my constant companion.

Storm

It was the sharp whistle of the wind that woke me this time, I raised my arms, both my hands were turning a dull grey/blue colour. My fingers no longer obeyed me, The Cold had taken them from me.

The once calm waters were now splashing over me as they push and pulled me in all directions. As I looked up into the sky, I could no longer see the moon, dark clouds had masked them from view.

The water was swirling angrily, as if it had realised, I was there and now it was trying to remove the intruder in its home. Distant flashes of lightning appeared, providing a brief respite from the dark. The rumble of thunder was building. The waves became rougher, threatening to pull me under.

The lifejacket that had kept me afloat was no longer able to keep me above the water. Adrenaline surged through my body as I fought to break through the surface. The first lungful of air burnt as it I inhaled.

The water seemed to have calmed, I thought perhaps The Storm had passed but as the lightning flashed, I could see I was wrong. The waves had simply retreated to return in one final attempt to drown me in the waters. As the night sky was lit up, the tidal wave barrelled towards me, a quiet calm overcame me as I took long deep breaths. When the wave reached me, I closed my eyes and filled my lungs and let the wave crash down on me.

Direction had no meaning in the undercurrent. As I swirled around, I had no way to know where the surface was, as I could see was water rushing past my face. I could feel the lifejacket compressing against my chest. I pulled at the zip. After a few tries, it opened. I pulled it off and felt the weight of it fall away. As it was pulled away from me in the dark waters, I found myself suddenly still as the undercurrent released me from its grip.

I was floating, in the darkness of the water, it was impossible to see where the surface was. The storm had moved on, I could no longer hear the thunder or see any flashes of lightning. I was alone and submerged in the darkness.

No…not alone, The Cold was still there, my only constant companion in this vast uncaring ocean.

Ghosts

As I floated in the icy darkness, I could feel my body getting heavier, no longer buoyed by the lifejacket, the world above faded into a distant memory, replaced by the suffocating darkness of the ocean depths. I began to sink, my arms and legs too cold to fight against the water, no longer could I resist the pull of the abyss below me. I was an intruder in this world and I had finally been caught.

Then from below me, or was it above me? I saw The Glow. Pale white light, shimmering in the dark.

As I sank further, shapes began to form in the murky water, at first just indistinct shadows, but soon they became horrifyingly clear. The wreckage of the plane emerged from the gloom, twisted metal and shattered glass floating eerily around me. And then, the passengers—ghostly apparitions, their faces pale, and eyes wide with terror—appeared, suspended in the water like forgotten souls. They seemed to drift toward me, their outstretched hands reaching, grasping, as if to pull me down with them into the cold, dark depths. Their silent cries echoing, a haunting reminder of the life I was so close to losing.

A crushing sense of dread settled over me as the ghosts drew nearer, their hollow eyes locked onto mine. Fear twisted inside me, a cold, relentless force that gripped my heart and made my every breath feel like a desperate gasp. My limbs were heavy, numb from the cold and the overwhelming exhaustion, but it was the terror that truly paralyzed me. The realization that I was not alone in this dark abyss filled me with a profound sense of helplessness. These spectral figures, once people with lives and stories of their own, were now nothing but lost souls, and I was on the brink of joining them. A suffocating panic rose within me, but it was laced with something worse—a creeping acceptance that perhaps this was my fate, that The Cold had finally claimed me, pulling me into the same watery grave that held them.

As I stared into this underwater graveyard, where the bodies of my fellow passengers would now forever rest in. No burials, no goodbyes, just the silence of the depths and The Cold as their caretakers. I saw The Shadow, it glided throughout the bodies, it had returned for me. The bodies of the dead were an easy meal, by I was still alive, a meal that would fight back for survival, a fight that would make my flesh and blood taste so much sweeter when its teeth finally closed around my body.

I felt my lungs start to burn; my oxygen was running out. I had a choice, breath in and let the waters rush in, I would give in to The Cold and join the others in this grave, a lost soul at sea, never to be found again.

Or I could fight one last time, if The Cold and The Shadow wanted to claim me, I would not go gently, I would harness every drop of energy and breath left in my body to reach the surface, to breath in that live giving air even if it was only for a few more minutes of life.

My heart quickened and I willed my numb limbs to move. Every stroke was exhausting, muscles and joint screamed as they were forced to move. As I looked down, I saw the faces of the dead, now twisted into angry screams as I defied their invitation to join them. The Shadow was moving quicker now, the hunt was on, the game close to the final whistle. I looked back up, my eyes trying to close as I ran out of oxygen, my limbs once more betrayed me for the last time. They had done all they could to give me another shot at life, but it was not meant to be...

As I stopped moving, I looked up, there was a dim light glistening in the darkness. If I was to die now, at least the moon was there to give a comforting light in the darkness of the Abyss.

As my eyes closed, I felt The Cold wrapping me in its arms, never to let go.

Salvation

As The Cold began to consume me, I felt a sudden pressure around my wrist—a firm, unyielding grip that jolted me from the edge of oblivion. A hand, warm and comforting and impossibly strong, was pulling me toward the moonlight, away from the spectral figures and the looming presence of The Shadow. My vision blurred as I tried to focus, to understand what was happening.

The warmth of the hand spread through me, a soothing balm against the chill that had gripped my soul. Was this a rescuer, a lifeline in the final moments of despair, or was it some other force, something I could not quite understand? The fear and exhaustion that had consumed me began to melt away, replaced by a deep, tranquil peace. As I felt the spread of the warmth through my body, I closed my eyes and let the comforting embrace take me away from this nightmare and to my salvation...

The End