Cold in the Dark

My breath fogs with every exhalation, but I don't dare turn on the heater. I've only a cupful of gasoline left. They say you should stay with the vehicle so rescuers can find you. I wouldn't step outside for anything. The ice, the skid, the snowdrift: all irrelevant. No, it was those faces I glimpsed in that moment of the crash. White-furred, leathery gray flesh, ape-like brows and teeth.

But most of all, the eyes, those glinting black eyes. God, the hatred...

I won't budge. I'm sure they'll find me, come morning.

What's left of me.

Those eyes promised me that.