Moulin felt a sudden shudder. The chilling cold crept all over his skin. He curled his body, not holding back his sneezes. His eyes trembled as he opened them. Is judgment this cold? It felt like shards of ice were embedded inside his pores. His body refusing to warm him.
Confused and shivering, he could swear he finished the bottle of antidepressants, ending his own life. The betrayal of his childhood friend and boyfriend was the last strand of motivation for living. Orphaned and abandoned. What kind of sick joke are the heavens playing with him?
Lips turning a pale shade of purple, he let out a warm breath. The ground was as cold as a bed of ice. Sharp and dull bumps sank into his back.
He recalled that he was lying on his bed in the middle of summer. Then why was it freezing? The money left from the savings couldn't even buy a decent AC.
A sharp ache pierced in his head abruptly. He groaned, shifting his body to turned on his side. The pain was excruciating like knives cutting every part of his flesh. Flashes alternate from one scene to another like fragments of memories materializing, portraying the life of a person very unfamiliar to him. He gave a deep breath, gritting his teeth. Moulin was confused and anxious. The memories that didn't belong to him streamed like a film and imprinted in his mind but the frigid cold was too distracting for him to react about everything currently happening.
And when everything came to an abrupt stop, he opened his eyes. Is this a joke? he couldn't even live the life that was made for him and now fate played with him again by letting him live the life of a stranger. This was just too much for him to bear. Is this even some kind of punishment? Cause it sure wasn't some hell of a gift of pity for ending his own sad life.
Just as he was about to lift a middle finger to the air. What greeted him ahead of his sight was the view of large hanging icicles. The sharp points of tens of solid ice threatened him with their glaring shine.
Fear overwhelmed him and he sat up instantly. His elbows were scraped and tiny frozen smears of blood clung to the wounds.
Moulin trembled, crawling backwards. Not sure if it was the cold or the fear of everything else.
Moulin's gaze ran throughout every corner of the room...except it wasn't a room. His teeth clenched as he mentally cursed. This is a cave damn it!
Why am I so miserable? Moulin shivered his knees on his chest and his arms in between. He tried to warm his hands but they were trembling too much. He was too cold to even bother realizing he was only wearing a white silk robe.
The icy walls of the cave had a tiny glow in them making them the only light source within this miserable place. It screamed of freezing cold and suffering. Even the floor wasn't spared, decorated by a thin layer of ice. At this rate, Moulin would die from hypothermia.
A small ache flashed in his mind. Instantly his feet started freezing cold! he glanced down only to realized his feet had slowly begun to freeze into ice climbing its way up rapidly. The fear of an unwelcomed death rushed in his mind. His breathing started to speed up in panic as the ice locked his joints, stopping him from moving until it reached his neck.
The biting cold frozed his tears, the torturous sting rose his cheek, frozed his flesh within the eyes until his whole head had frozen.
As Moulin's consciousness was slipping away, he found himself praying for help to whoever was listening. If God had given him this life as a second chance then he would be more than willing to relive his life anew.