Snow Volley, Part 2

Further and further, double, triple, near-missings jagged pillars of brittle wood and prickly berry-bushes, it was becoming increasingly evident that this unassuming forest was more of a deadly battlefield than first meets the eye.

Yellow splattered across bushes, puddles of deep purple bleeding into the white of snow. We strode past the edges of a small clearing, a clearing that was nothing but scurrying imprints of panicked feet left in the snow, and snow that was anything but snow - the sunlight glittering flakes of blue and only blue.

No matter where I looked, there was only death, only suffering… and the bright sinister colors that followed with it. 

Christmas was just a sham. This game was tenser than any horror attraction. Swear to God.

And that was not including the amount of close-calls we kept encountering, and they were only mounting with every passing second.