Marry me

The snow crushed under my winter boots. White fractals danced to the tune of the northern wind, covering everything in a blanket of white. Hundreds of house chimneys puffed into the morning skies, ridiculing me with their privilege of warmth and comfort. I blew a puff of white air into my stiff fingers and rubbed them together. The thin gloves provided little protection against the icy winds of the snowstorm that was passing over Merlin county. Martha, they named it. A gargantuan beast that covered the entire country under its bosom, armed with winds up to two hundred miles per hour. Of course, the inhabitants of Milland are used to such harsh weather. It's a tradition that it has forced us to cope with. Ever since my grandmother could remember, a fierce storm would always hit the little northern peninsula on the fifth day of the last month and would last for the rest of the year. Children would often say this is their favorite time of the year because schools close and they would spend time with their parents. Most workers, except electricians and plumbers, would get paid vacation.

I detest this time of year.

The icy punches that Martha dashed out did not compare with the coldness and bitterness of that house. "I hope they find you all like ice cubes." The words came out accompanied by a set of white smoke as I walked through the snowed-in residential area.

…

"Welcome to Dinnin' and shinnin'." A lady dressed in an apron called out to me as I entered the diner. "You pick the prettiest seat and I'll take your order in a moment, Hon'" she said.

It wasn't too difficult to choose a spot. It was practically empty, save for a few burly men sitting at the wooden counter. Looking at their heavily padded clothes and the sunken look on their faces, it looked like they were the only poor saps that were forced to work during the storms: plumbers and electricians. This suspicion proved to be true when I read, 'Markus family corp' on the back of their clothes as I took a chair at the end of the counter. They ripped through their fried eggs without taking their eyes from the TV that hung on the menu board.

"Today on Milland National news, we are the only ones you can trust to bring you the most reliable information during the hardest of times," the newscaster boomed from the speakers. "As always, we caution everyone to stay inside because the yearly weather storm shows no sign of stopping."

"Hah! Tell that to the boss!" said one of the padded men. "It's ridiculous how we have to work under these conditions. I say we put on a strike and see how they like it. "

"Now Hon', If you stopped workin', who's gonna fry your sunny side up?" said the waitress, filling up the cup of the man with coffee.

"Don't worry, Triz. I'll make sure you're the only one on this ice block with power and water," said the man, blushing.

"Haha, how kind of you"

"Breaking news." The Tv once again took the attention of the diner. "This is just in, the serial killer. The mangler has struck again. An eyewitness reports they spotted a suspicious figure lingering through Jonson residential. When Authorities arrived at the scene, they recovered two black plastic bags. As per Modus operandi, the bags contained the severed limbs of what appeared to be female bodies, but they have found no heads. We will keep you posted "

"No rest for the wicked, even in this weather," said the waitress.

"You think this creep would be interested in a fifty-year-old man? No one would miss him," chuckled another one of the men.

"Not funny Carl.That's enough news for today." The waitress said, turning off the TV. She walked towards a radio on the corner of the counter and switched to a station. The melancholic voice of the singer filled the room. The burly men kept to themselves, eating their meals quietly.

"I didn't know there were cute little workers like you," the waitress said, walking toward me and placing an empty cup on the counter. She retrieved a water pitcher from the back. "Though I say, you look a little under-dressed for this weather, Hon'" she said while filling my cup with water.

"Thank you. Miss"

"The name's Beatrice, but everyone just calls me Triz. What's your name? I've never seen you around here"

"Inis," I said

"Oh, what a pretty name! Reminds me of that one flower. What was it called again?" The waitress said, placing a finger on her red lips.

Inis.

It was a snowy morning when my mother gave birth to me. She said she held me tight in her arms and sang lullabies as I cried . Sometimes I would cry for so long my face would get purple and swollen, making me look like the native flower that bloomed once a year: The Inis.

"Anyway Inis hon', what are you doing outside in such dreadful weather? Shouldn't you be at home? Unless you are plannin' on joinin' this sad bunch," she said.

"hahaha, no. I was on my from getting a few things from a friend's house and got lost in this white haze," I lied. "This is the only place that was opened, so I thought I could ask for some direction if it's not too much to ask."

"Shoot, where you headin'" she said while refilling the cups of the other men in the diner.

"Uh, let's see," I say, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from my jacket pocket. "It's on 457 Monicker St. "

Triz furrows her eyebrows and looks at me from top to bottom. "You don't know your own address?"

Her inquisitive eyes caught me off guard. A slight knot formed in my stomach. "I, uh, just moved here. The streets still confuse me a bit."

"You know, Monicker St. is two miles from here by car. You tellin' me walked all the way from there in this weather. "

Even though it was so cold in here, my hands were sweating and my mouth was dry. "I'm used to it. I've always walked in this weather. "

Beatrice gave me a hard, long look. Just before I thought I was about to be discovered, she tore a piece of paper from the counter and wrote something down. "You get out of here and walk on home now, you hear? This is no time for someone to be walking around in this kind of weather," she said, handing over the slip of paper.

"Thank you, and for the water as well."

I left the diner. The waitress never lifted her eyes off me as I walked through the door and as it closed behind me. As the snow beneath my legs crunched, I could not shake the feeling that my paper thing lies did not convince her.

….

"Sorry kid, there's been a change of plans" A man wearing a padded white shirt and a beanie. "The room's taken. Go look elsewhere." He said, rubbing his bare hands together.

"What do you mean? We had a deal. You're going back on your word."

Great. The man standing indifferently in front of me was supposed to be renting out a room for me. A few weeks ago, before Martha hit, I had come across an ad in the newspaper about a single-room apartment for about 10 Marks a month. If I gathered all my savings and cut down on some food, I could live here for about 3 months, just enough time to find a job.

"Somebody offered to pay ten times the rent. Sorry, this is just how things work, unless you can fork over more money"

"Who would want to pay over 10 Marks for this piece of junk?" I said, kicking the snow off the floor.

"Beats me. However, the facts don't change. They got the dough and you don't. So go back home or wherever you came from. I got nothing else to say." Before I could answer, the man shut the door.

The howling wind blew stronger than before, filling the inside of my body with burning cold. My muscles violently twitched and shook, a futile effort to generate a sliver of heat. There is no way I'm going back, I told myself as my legs trembled with each step. I'd rather freeze and die peacefully than to return to that, that… Martha's winds pulled fiercely against my clothes as I wiggled myself in-between a little alley right next to my ex-apartment complex. The path was frozen and littered with trash. It was as if this was a miniature junkyard. Drones, rats, needles, broken toys, and trash bags occupied every square inch of the alley.

Better than snow I guess.

I grabbed two black trash bags and set them so that they would block the icy wind. Another bag for my head, so that I didn't have to lie down on piles of broken glass. I search through one of the garbage drones and found a curtain full of holes. Quietly, I laid down on my makeshift bed and covered myself with the curtain. When these winds die down, I'll talk to the landlord again. Maybe the new tenant will cancel. I tried to convince myself as my consciousness left me.

...

I awoke to a sharp pain in my toes and fingers. They felt like numb ice cubes that burned with every movement, and the uneven plastic bag under my head did not help ease the pain. Trying to forget the pain, I stared at the now dark sky. It looks like I slept longer than I wanted to.

As I turned around a pungent smell came from the bag I used as a pillow. Curious, and having nothing better to do, I decided to open the bag.

I slowly opened the bag. My body froze. The nauseating stench crept into me, a horrible mixture of iron and rotten meat. It took a considerable amount of willpower to hold back the contents of my stomach from exiting unwillingly. This must be the rotted food from the tenants. I opened the bag wider, making it easier to inspect the contents. I've got to say, these people sure eat strange things. This stuff almost looks like…

Another wave powerful wave of nausea hit me as I gazed at a beautiful diamond ring. It looked odd to me, not because I'd never seen a ring before. I had a friend who got married once. She couldn't help brandishing that ring of hers everywhere she went. No, it was not the ring that looked odd, but rather the blue finger that it was snuggly attached to. No, that's not right. I think that the oddest part was the arrangement of arms that stiffly protruded from the bag, each sparkling beautifully under the moonlight. W-what is this?

"Who goes there!"

I jolt around to the sound of the voice.

"What are you doing there?" The dark figure said.

I couldn't answer. The words got stuck in the back of my throat. Not because I thought it caught me looking at severed hands, but because as the dark figure approached, I could make out a reflective light on its side. It dripped and stained the pure snow with a dark substance that I could not make out. The figure's face was covered with the neck a black neck scarf. They covered its entire body with padded black clothes.

"I said, what are you doing there?"

"I-I-I D-don't w-want to d-die. P-please d-don't kill me, I won't tell anyone, I promise," I said, backing off

The figure remained silent for a moment and looked at the open trash bag.

"So you saw it, then" The figure slowly moved in closer, and the dark substance on its side became visible. It was a thick butcher knife, dripping with blood. "There's no other choice then"

A warm sensation radiated from my lower half, slowly making its way to both my legs. I tried to back off, but something caught my weak legs, causing me to fall. A rain of severed arms flew everywhere, including on top of my body. The figure approached and knelt. It grabbed one of the severed hands and waved it in front of my face. "Marry me." It said.

"Please don't hurt me," I said, not registering what it had said.

"Marry me and you won't end up like them."