The frozen lake cracked beneath his feet as he stumbled back, trying to catch his bearings and find an escape. The sound of the snapping and cracking ice rang out across the lake, echoing and bouncing off the ground, drowning out all other sounds. Matt’s heart thudded around in his chest like a wild animal trying to escape. Suddenly his boot slipped on the ice, causing him to slide. The world tilted as he fell, just blurs of blue and white, and slammed hard into the lake's frozen surface. For just a second there was absolute silence and then the snapping and cracking of the ice returned as his vision cleared from the impact. A jagged fissure ran under his cheek as he tried to override his panic and lift himself. 


Gasping for breath, he carefully pulled his knees beneath him to stand. Silence rang out again as the cracking stopped. He looked around to see a 10-foot ring around him of cracked ice, jagged angry lines spider-webbing the surface. If his heart could have beat any faster it would. His muscles shook from exhaustion and anxiety as he glanced around, hoping for a way out. Far on the lake's edge, he saw two figures. A tall thin one in black next to a shorter one who did not appear to be wearing a jacket at all.


“HELP!” he screamed, but neither one moved. “HELP” he called even louder. The short one took a step forward but the figure in black put a hand on its shoulder and it stopped. No, what were they doing? Matt thought as he shifted his weight trying to stand. As he did the terrifying cracking began again. It snapped and popped like a bonfire consuming damp logs. Matt was consumed by panic, his limbs shook and strained trying to hold him perfectly still. The sound of his heart competed with the horrible cracking for his attention. The icy water below lapped over the now split ice onto his motionless hands as he tried to balance himself. He clenched his teeth against the stinging cold of the water as he tried not to tilt into the certain death below him. Still, the figures on the shore remained motionless, the one in black seeming to restrain the other one. 


Then with a gut-lurching motion, the ice tilted forward and Matt slid helplessly toward the yawning black lake, powerless to stop it. He was plunged into the darkness and it felt like fire was pounding through his veins. The cold weight of the water surrounded him. It rushed into his lungs and burned his insides. He flailed his arms around hopelessly, up and down having no meaning in the darkness around him. He moved toward a lighter spot that he hopped was the surface but it was hard to tell. His limbs did not want to move, his brain could not seem to form any kind of plan and spots of bright light flickered in and out of his vision as the edges grew black. Still, he tried, he fought, he pushed but it was of no use. The darkness swallowed him whole. 


The light was thrust back around Matt, and at the same time, he became aware of all of his senses again. Pain was an overwhelming feeling as he gagged and coughed against his aching lungs.


“That's it, boy! Get all that out” A gruff voice said behind him as something pounded on his back as he coughed up water from his stinging lungs. Every muscle of his body tightened and squeezed as he coughed, trying to expel all the water. Gradually it subsided and other pains began to vie for his attention. His lungs burned, his clothing was heavy and wet, and his muscles were overly weak as if he had just completed a triathlon. He tried to make sense of his surroundings and saw a thin bony old man with concern on his face crouched near him. His skin was like wrinkled parchment stretched over bones, but his face was concerned and his blue eyes sharp with awareness. Matt could not tell what color hair he had because it was concealed by a black winter cap to protect him from the cold. 


“Whoo boy I thought you were a goner claimed by the lake” The man exclaimed. His voice was gruff and aged, but also steady and sure. Matt tried to make sense of what he saw but he found his mind was not quite operating fully, each time he reached to follow a line of thought it seemed to snap out of his grasp. The confusion must have shown on his face because the man nodded “Took a tumble in the lake you did. And I tell you it sure ain't the time of year for a swim if you get me.” The man nodded, and the gesture seemed more out of habit than anything. “I saw you going in and I thought I wouldn’t make it, But I was able to pull you out” The man observed Matt, with concern. 


“Thank you- I-” Matt looked at the snow-covered forest around him, still struggling to form coherent thoughts. He did not remember more than the image of two figures, the blur of blue and black as he tilted into the water, and the horrible pain in his body. He shuddered under the heavy coat.


“C’mon. I live in a cabin just up that away. My sons about your size, we gotta get you some dry clothes before you lose a limb.” The man helped Matt to his feet and pulled his arm over his shoulders. Matt was surprised at how strong and sturdy the mand shoulder felt as he leaned on him “Names Bran by the way.” the old man grunted as they traversed the packed snow. Shudders rolled through Matt as they moved, causing his teeth to chatter painfully as he walked. He was surprised that he could experience more pain. 


“I-I-im m-m-m-matt” He stammered through the chattering. Bran nodded in confirmation as they continued their slow but steady track up the path into the woods. As They entered the woods Matt was surprised to find his pain lessening. Guilt washed over him as he realized what had almost happened. He had almost died, leaving behind his family. 


“So Matt, got a family waiting for you back in civilization,” Bran asked, clearly trying to pass the time with small talk. Matt found that he could now support himself on his own as the pain lessened. He was not sure if that was a good sign or not, but he could not afford to dwell on it. 


“Yes. I'm married. She is about to have our first kid” He smiled as he thought of May at home. She was short and passionate and more often than not covered in paint as she worked on a new painting and He loved her and their unborn child. The guilt grew, he had almost left them. He wouldn’t have ever been able to know his child, or hold May’s hand as she gave birth. What would May do? If he didn’t come home? How long would she sit in the house, chewing her nails and worrying before calling the cops? Would they have been able to find his body? The guilt was a gnawing raring force inside him. Not just May, but his little sister too. She was about to graduate college. They had already lost their parents a year ago. How would his sister handle losing him? He would not be able to attend her graduation or see her start law school and dominate. How could he have been so reckless?


“Looks like you got a lot of thoughts rolling around in that head,” Bran said, watching him with his clear, alert eyes. Matt nodded.


“I am just thinking about my family, how they would handle it if I died if you hadn’t found me.” He hung his head, ashamed. Bran nodded and was silent as they continued through the path. Matt still felt the freezing weight of the water on him as they trudged through the snow, but the burning pain of the cold was at least easing up. That was probably a bad sign but Matt was grateful the pain was at least decreasing for whatever reason. 


“Well that's the thing about death ain't it? Makes you feel guilty because you get to move on and the living has to keep on living.” Bran pulled out a flask and offered it to Matt. He took it and drank a mouthful of what tasted like some kind of fruit juice, grape maybe? Or pomegranate? 


“I suppose you are right.” Matt conceded


“But we all gotta go sometimes, and those whose time hasn't come yet get the honor and privilege of carrying those that are gone on with them.” Bran seemed very wise for a random hermit in the woods. 


“What about you Bran, you said you have a son” Matt inquired politely, wanting very much to get the topic off of death. 


“Oh yes. Three kids, all grown now.” Matt held up a gloved hand with three fingers. “And a lovely wife. She is home in the city. She's the keeper of my heart, that she is” Bran nodded pleasantly. The winter day's silence washed over them again.


As Matt walked a shape moved out the corner of his eye, a massive beast. Matt stopped and spun toward the shape only to find nothing but a snow-covered pine tree. Matt stained into the darkness of the forest beyond and swore he saw deep red eyes glaring back at him, he took a step forward. Bran put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Matt turned back to look at Bran who had a dead serious look on his face. 


“Stay on the path, Matt. It's dangerous to wander off. You could get lost.” There was an eerie quality to the man's face as he said the words that would have sent a chill down Matt’s spine if he wasn’t already so cold. For just a second his vision grew dark along the edges and the man's face seemed to narrow and shift till Matt thought he could see the man's skull beneath his skin. Just as soon as it started Matt blinked and his vision cleared, returning the man to normal.  


This is the beginning of Hypothermia Matt remarked to himself, oddly detached from the realization, almost as if it was happening to a stranger, not him. He found the guilt that had been all-consuming moments before had lessened. Bran was right, If he had died that would have been it, his family would have mourned and then lived on. A piece of him would live on in the stories his wife told their child, in the little aspects of his face the child would have. His sister would carry his memory with her on late-night trips to the convenience store and watching scary movies. Maybe she would even share those moments with his child, ensuring the tradition and memories passed. A small warm feeling that had nothing to do with his feelings, grew in his chest. 


Anyway, this was a ridiculous thought process. He was not dead after all. The dead did not feel this heavy and exhausted. Matt imagined he could sleep for a year and still not be rested, the weight of his coat was dragging on him, slowing him. Bran watched him as he stumbled, falling to his knees in the snow. Worry crossed his eyes. 


“Just around the curve now,” Bran said, Scooping his arm around Matt the older man picked up the pace and half led half dragged Matt forward. As they moved Bran’s vision flickered and he thought he saw shapes moving just past the tree line and glowing eyes watching him hungrily. The pain was clouding his brain and making it hard to think. They turned with the path and it opened up to a small clearing with a wooden cabin in the center. 


The cabin was not in disrepair, but it had seen better days. One of the windows was boarded up rather than repaired and Matt saw several spots where other repairs were needed. Still, it might as well have been a massive 4-star hotel the way Matt felt when he saw the cabin. Bran led him up the steps, still supporting most of his weight. The cabin door was not locked as Bran turned the knob and opened the door. 


Inside the cottage smelled of pine and cinnamon and was surprisingly cozy. It was a small one-room hunting cabin with a kitchenette along the back wall, a large bed on a hand-carved wooden frame and the most comfortable-looking plaid couch sat directly in front of the already roaring fireplace. Bran deposited Matt on the rug before the fire and the heat of the flames cooked and warmed his skin. Matt stripped off his heavy coat and held his hands up to the fireplace feeling the numbness of his limbs fade rapidly. 


Bran moved about behind him for a while as Matt enjoyed the luxurious heat of the flames. Eventually, Matt was aware of Bran sitting quietly on the couch behind him. Bran turned to face the old man, and out of the corner of his eye Bran’s face had that strange double quality it had before where he was skull beneath the skin as if it was pressing out of his very skin. Matt’s heart sputtered pathetically, but he blinked and it was gone. He must still be recovering from the cold he rationalized.


“Matthew, are you ready to accept the truth?” Bran asked, his face exhausted. 


“What?” Matt asked, confused.

“Matthew it is time to accept reality and continue forward, the beasts go stronger and more brazen with each trek, soon even my presence will not keep them at bay” Bran explained, and again his face shifted, pressing his skull against his skin. Bran slid back slightly and then realized he could slide no further because of the fireplace. 


“What are you talking about?” Matt was not able to keep the fear out of his voice as he gazed up at the man. Matt realized under the winter clothing he wore a simple long-sleeved black button-up and black slacks. All of the bones of his body seemed to be pressing up, making the skin stretch and turn almost translucent so he could see the white skeleton beneath.


“Matthew we have done this a dozen times, I warned you last time this would be the final chance I could give you. If you do not accept your death this time you WILL be consumed by the beasts of the dark, and I cannot stop it.” Bran’s eyes were not cruel, but they were unnerving. Especially as the skin of Bran’s face seemed to disappear, leaving behind a horrifying gleaming skull with the same bright eyes in the sockets. 


Matt scrambled to his feet, backing away at an angle towards the door, heart pounding.


“I am not dead!” Matt said, sounding less confident than he had meant to. Bran simply watched him.


“Yes. You are” Bran’s voice was quiet and cold. It traveled the room and wrapped around Matt’s heart like a vice. No, but his sister, his wife, HIS BABY! No, he was not dead. Matt shook his head vigorously. He darted for the door, flinging it open to escape, and froze. The forest outside had morphed.


It was still snowy, but the azure sky was gone, replaced with the brightest, most colorful night sky he had ever seen. Colors and shapes swirled in the sky like a painting. In the clearing a massive three-headed dog growled, drool dripping from its mouth as it narrowed nine beady black eyes at him. The smell of Cypress and decaying flowers hung in the air. 


“Shh, Cerberus” Bran said just behind Matt. He spun around, falling to his knees at Bran’s feet. 


“PLEASE! I can't be dead! My wife, My baby, I can't leave them.” The expression on the skull was one of sadness. He patted Matt softly on the head and then bent to pull him to his feet. 


“Matthew you can be dead because you are. Remember they will carry you on with them, but you ARE dead.” Matt shook his head.


“Please! I will give you anything! I will DO anything!” Matt begged. 


“Matthew, I am the shepherd of death. The decision was made long before you came face to face with me, I can no more bring you back to life than a pig could fly”


“No, you have to!” Matt was desperate. He thought he had come to terms with his family being ok without him, but that was only in the abstract. In the here and now he found he was desperate, he would do anything to return to them, if only for one more day. “Please. Just one more day, just let me say goodbye!” Matt begged pathetically. Bran just shook his head. Rage built inside Matt like a tidal wave. It filled his limbs with an electric fire that energized him. He lunged at Bran, planning to somehow force him to take him back. Matt stumbled through the air where Bran had been seconds ago.


“Matthew we have been over this! You can not fight death.” Bran’s voice called behind him. Matt spun around, determined to try, for his family. He let the anger propel him across the room toward Bran, but again the skeletal figure vanished. He stumbled and fell to the ground with a hard thud. He was sobbing he would not believe this. An idea crossed into his mind, If he could just run back to the lake he could reenter the mortal world and find his family again. Abandoning his pursuit of Bran he jumped and darted out the door. 


The beast snapped its powerful jaws at him but he continued racing, angling slightly to its left. The beast rose its many heads, ready to devour him. Adrenaline pumping through his limbs, he dogged at the last second and slid across the icy snow directly under the monster. He heard and felt the snap of one of the heads just behind him as he slid. To his relief, it did not pursue him into the trees.


The forest before had not been inviting, but now it was downright sinister. Figures lurked just past the tree line beckoning to him. They hissed warnings and calls at him, but the pounding sounds of his heart and footprints drowned out the words. Perhaps if he had heard them they would have given him pause. The taste of ash filled his mouth and the cloying smell of dead plants intensified. As he ran, a horrid beast also marched through the trees, silently keeping pace. He tried to ignore the ravenous look in its deep fiery orbs. He could not tell if Bran ran behind him and he did not dare make the mistake of looking behind him to check. Matt would not leave his family without a fight, damn the resolutions from before. His sister needed him, his wife needed him, and his child NEEDED him. 


A figure stepped into his path and he almost tripped over himself trying to avoid it. He stopped when he saw his mother's familiar face. This is a trick He thought.


“No my love, it's no trick,” the shade of his mother said. She seemed like all the color she had in life had been leached away. He froze. The Beasts of the forest watched from the tree line, eager and ravenous. He could hear the hissing cacophony of them now, but he turned it out. He gazed over at his mother and lunged to hug her. His arms passed through her form and her smile turned sad. “You can not touch me, dear, I am not real” She was forlorn. 


“Ma I don't-” Matt began, she shook her head.


“I don't have long. Matt, you have to accept this. You can't keep fighting it!” Her voice was pleading he shook his head 


“Ma, Steph, she needs-” He began, thinking of his sister. His mother shook her head.

“Steph will be fine. You know she will.” His mother brushed a ghostly hand across his cheek, he felt nothing. “But if you don't accept this, we will truly lose you, Like I did your father.” His mother’s expression was so utterly heartbroken it took away his breath

“What happened to dad?” Matt asked, whispering unconsciously. She smiled sadly

“He couldn't accept the wreck, he couldn't bear to leave you and your sister.” his heart thudded hard.

“I begged him, but he just” she sighed “You know how stubborn he was, the beasts of the forest devoured him.” a translucent tear fell from her eye. “My love, don’t make this mistake.” She glanced behind him and nodded.

“I have to go Matt. Please, accept this” She backed up and he reached for her but she was already fading. A deep sadness settled in his chest and Bran walked next to him.


“Are you ready Matthew?” Bran asked. Matt searched himself.


He did not want to abandon his family. He worried how they would fare without him, and what kind of man he would be to give up on them. But the look on his mother's face when she talked about his dad. His always stubborn dad loved him and his sister. In the end, what would Matt do to combat this? He gazed up and froze as his eyes locked on the malevolent crimson eyes of the thin monster that had stalked him, it waited, ravenous. Matt nodded to Bran. The skeletal man nodded and held out an arm. Matt took it.


“Come on,” Bran said simply. The two continued down the path, the beasts faded back into the trees, all but the thin stalker. To Matt’s intense surprise, they continued down the path as the sky lightened and faded back into the deep blue it had been that morning. They came out of the path into the same valley with the frozen lake before them. Matt watched a figure traverse the ice slowly as they approached, a bag of ice fishing supplies slung over his shoulder. The figure dropped the bag, a bit too hard on the ice. Matt realized that but had been the catalyst. He turned to call himself to warn him.


“It won't do any good” Bran cautioned as they reached the edge of the lake, as if he could read Matt’s mind. Maybe he could. The snapping crack echoed out and Matt heard himself call for help as the ice began to fracture. He took an involuntary step forward and Bran put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Matthew you must accept this, you can not stop it, and we can not go down this path again, the beasts are too strong now.” Matt looked over his shoulder, at Bran 


“Again? you keep saying again?” Matt asked. Bran nodded 


“Matthew we have traveled this path many times, and each time you fail to accept it and rush to save yourself, starting it over. We can not do it again. This is the last time” Bran was in the form of the old man again as they stood on the edge. Matt turned back, his own screams echoing, and watched as his body fell below the surface. 


Everything in him urged him forward, but he fought it. He could not see a way to save himself, and if his mother and Bran were right, fighting death would destroy him. 


Tears slid down his face in a rush as he watched the split ice reform, mourning the loss of his life and the pain his family would feel. Bran patted his arm.


“It is never easy,” Bran said solemnly “but leave the morning for the living.” Matt retook Death's arm and they walked back toward the now glowing forest. It was a brilliant bright light and as they approached he saw the form of his mother standing by the path, holding her arms out to embrace him. Death was just the beginning of the next chapter. 


He knew his family would carry him on in their lives, just as he and his sister had carried the memory of their mother. His family would mourn, and then like him, they would accept fate and move forward to the next chapter. The frozen lake cracked beneath his feet and the tides of fate still rushed on, he could allow it to carry him forward, or be dragged down by it.