Cold fills me and ice pierces me. Both Winter intricacies penetrate my soul like shards of glass and mirror. Most profoundly agonizing is the perpetual evocation of the Ice King and the frostbitten trace of his lips as his omniscient cold seeped under my skin, altering my being from girl to monster. Transforming me into a creature of frigid chill and unfathomable, bitter cold.
Such is the premise of my reign of arctic sovereignty, the genesis of my cruelty.
I am Vivienne Eva Kirsten, the Snow Queen.
Ice formed in a delicate, lethal web extending outward from his hand, nearing my heart with excruciating idleness. “Of your own volition, is this your decision, my snowflake?” The Ice King plunges his hypnotic eyes of electric sky blue reminiscent of frozen lakes into the depth of mine, waiting. Unequivocally, I pronounce with tender sweetness, “Yes. A thousand times yes. I want this.” A frigid yet inviting smile twisted his inhumanely beautiful face, and it was near painful to resist touching him, resist his proximity. He smiled at me again, truly smiled- wicked and lovely and entirely captivating that I nearly missed the flicker of a triumphant, cadaverous predator. Startled, I blinked surreptitiously, searching for any sign of the macabre beauty I had glimpsed, but too soon, his power permeated my body and stole my warmth. “WAIT,” the anguished, monosyllabic word burst out of my dry throat with a shattering cry. Immovable as a glacier and deadly as a polar bear he bent toward me with esoteric eagerness, pressed his lips over mine, and blew.
And as he breathed Winter’s essence into my aching soul, our intimate embrace became a suffocating hold draining every shred of warmth within me. No more than a desperate animal, I thrashed about wildly in a fight against death. His hand tangled in my hair, stroking a long golden tress with possessive gentleness. “Soon you will revel in the cold, my snowflake. Soon, we will have eternity.” His promises filled me with contrasting dread and yearning as consciousness slipped out of my grasp. Slumping against his sinewy form, I allowed sleep to envelop me in its enthralling siren’s song as his power consumed me. Remolding the very spirit of my being, my heart, into little more than a breathing extension of ice and frost.