The Narrative Nexus 4: The Avalanche

The ominous gale billowed at my sweaty face as I clomped through the thick snow. I clambered into my frail wooden loft to imbibe a cup of tepid soup. Out of the blue, a deafening roar reverberated through the frigid air. I sensed the ‘Sword of Damocles’ suspended above my head as I stepped out of my warm, snug hut and discovered the cataclysm. It was an avalanche.

A sea of snow swiftly swept down the steep mountain. The crests of the waves of ice resembled horses, frothing at the mouths, eyes blood red. I anxiously sprinted down the scarp slope of the mountain, but I knew that the avalanche would swallow me whole before I reached the nadir. I kept trekking down the slope with the ocean of snow at my heels. The waves of snow growled like a lion, hungry for its feeble prey. Soon enough, I was swallowed into the depths of the ravenous monster.

I could hear my pulse; my heart palpitating in the grave silence. I writhed in agony as I tried to stand up. I was several metres away from the summit, so I did not sail too far away. I hastily scrambled towards the acme to retrieve my belongings and fell into the wintry snow. I got up and harshly cursed myself for my recklessness. I continued roaming through the bitter cold snow and finally came across my campsite and looked at it twice, or what was left of it.

My heart shattered into a million shards upon realising that the avalanche had destroyed the entire site. I was wretched with grief and misery as I strolled through the debris. A plethora of questions filled my mind. How will I get back down the mountain without any equipment? How would I find my treasured money in the thick wet snow? What am I going to do now? My thought process came to an abrupt stop as an eccentric scream echoed through the frosty wind.

A sense of adventure whistled through the wind as I stomped through the heavy snow. Beads of perspiration rolled down my cheeks and splashed onto the floor. After a couple of hours, a majestic building caught the corner of my naked eye.

I got closer to get a better look, but the enigmatic castle was barrierred with fog. I moved towards it and soon the fog was clearing. I strode closer and saw the lunatic standing on the balcony. I furtively stepped towards the door and creaked it open.

I stealthily crept through the rusty corridor and examined my surroundings. Pickaxes, hiking boots, beanies, scarves, and other mountain supplies were scattered on the tiled floor. I slipped objects I needed into my coat and continued exploring. I even stuffed my pockets with jewels so that they could replace my money. Crash! The pickaxe under my coat fell to the hard floor and loud thuds were booming from the staircase.

A strong surge of panic rushed through my mind. I dashed towards the door as it was my only chance to elude the castle. Before I reached the iron handle a mad voice roared behind me.

“Where do you think you are going?” he growled.

“Back where I came from,” I spluttered.

I turned around to face the man. His rifle was pointed straight at my chest. I suddenly knocked the bookshelf down as a red herring and escaped the palace.

I put on all my sophisticated hiking gear that I got from the castle and got down the mountain after a colossal adventure.