Chapter 17: The Wrath of Phrost

The storm raged on, showing no signs of abating. The fire from the explosion that had taken down the ice beast flickered weakly outside, barely visible through the thick curtain of snow. George stood at the shattered window, staring into the blizzard, his mind racing with a growing sense of dread. This wasn't over, far from it. The storm felt alive, as if it were waiting for something, or someone.

Behind him, Raven approached cautiously, her eyes searching his face. "You feel it, don't you?" she asked quietly. "There's something worse out there."

George nodded, his breath fogging up the broken glass. "Yeah. This isn't just a storm... it's like it's watching us."

The mansion creaked under the relentless wind, the remaining barricades barely holding. Lucy stepped into the room, wiping sweat from her brow. "We're out of ammo, George. And the flamethrowers are spent. Whatever's coming, we're not ready for it."

"We never were," George said, his voice hollow. But just as he said the words, something caught his eye.

Out there, in the storm, a shadow was moving. No, not moving, approaching.

"What the hell is that?" George muttered, his grip tightening on the windowsill.

Tobias stepped forward, standing beside him. "Is it another one of those things? Like the one we just took out?"

"I don't think so," George replied, his voice low.

The figure moved closer, its outline growing more distinct. The snow seemed to part around it, as if it bent to its will. As the shadow neared the edge of the property, George's pulse quickened. The figure was massive, towering at least ten feet tall, and its body was made entirely of ice and frost. But this wasn't just another ice zombie.

The wind carried with it a low, rumbling laugh, a sound that sent a chill through George's spine. The creature stopped just beyond the mansion's perimeter, its glowing blue eyes piercing through the storm.

"It's here," Raven whispered, her voice trembling. "What the fuck is THAT!?"

The figure raised its head, and for the first time, it spoke, its voice deep and cold, like the wind itself.

"You've done well to survive this long," the creature said, its tone condescending, as if it were addressing mere insects. "Few have lasted as long as you."

George's blood ran cold. This thing wasn't like the others, it was intelligent. Calculating.

Raven's hand tightened around her shotgun. "Who... what are you?" she demanded, though there was an edge of fear in her voice.

The creature let out another low laugh, the sound vibrating through the frozen air. "I am Phrost," it said, the name rolling off its icy tongue with malice. "I am the master of this storm, the one who controls the cold, the one who commands the dead."

George swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. This was the one behind it all, the zombies, the snowmen, the blizzard. Phrost had been pulling the strings from the beginning.

"You've given my servants a harder time than I anticipated," Phrost continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "But it ends here."

The storm intensified as he spoke, the wind howling like a pack of wolves, the snow falling harder and faster. The mansion groaned under the pressure, its walls creaking as the temperature dropped even further.

"We need to get out of here," Lucy said, her voice barely a whisper. "We can't fight him. Look at him."

George's mind raced. She was right, Phrost was nothing like the enemies they had faced before. His presence alone seemed to suck the warmth from the air, freezing everything in his wake. They couldn't fight something like that with bullets and fire. Not anymore.

"You think your pathetic tricks will save you?" Phrost taunted, his icy gaze sweeping across the mansion. "Fire may have worked against my lesser minions, but it is nothing to me. I am the cold. I am death."

George's fists clenched at his sides. This was the creature that had been tormenting them for a week, sending waves of undead to break them down, and now he was here, standing on their doorstep.

"We're not running," George said through gritted teeth. "We've fought off everything you've thrown at us. We'll fight you too."

Phrost chuckled, a dark and menacing sound. "Oh, you will fight, little human. But it will be in vain."

The ground beneath them trembled as Phrost raised his arms, and with a wave of his hand, a blast of freezing wind surged toward the mansion. The windows shattered instantly, sending shards of glass flying through the room. George ducked just in time, covering his head as the icy wind tore through the mansion, knocking over furniture and sending a chill deep into their bones.

"Get down!" George shouted, grabbing Raven and pulling her away from the broken window. The temperature dropped so fast, it was as if the very air around them was turning to ice.

"We can't stay here!" Tobias yelled, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "He's going to bring the whole house down!"

George's heart raced as he tried to think, but his mind was clouded by the freezing cold and the sheer terror of what they were facing. Phrost was toying with them, testing their resolve. He had the power to crush them all, and he knew it.

"Fall back!" George ordered, his voice hoarse. "Get upstairs, we need to regroup!"

The group scrambled toward the stairs, racing against the bitter wind that now filled the mansion. The walls groaned under the pressure, the wood creaking as the cold seeped into every corner.

As they reached the second floor, George turned to look back at Phrost, who stood outside, watching them with those cold, glowing eyes. His presence was suffocating, as if the storm itself had taken on a living, malevolent form.

"We need to draw him away from the house," George said breathlessly, his mind racing. "We can't take him head-on, but if we can get him to follow us..."

"To where?" Raven asked, her voice shaking.

"I don't know yet," George admitted. "But we can't let him tear this place apart."

Phrost's voice echoed through the storm, taunting them. "Run while you can, little humans. You will not escape me."

George clenched his jaw. They were out of options, but they couldn't give up now.

The storm continued to rage outside, battering the mansion with furious wind and snow. The cold seemed to press in from all sides, relentless and unforgiving. George stood by the stairs, his mind racing as they counted their dwindling supplies. The flamethrowers were out of fuel, the oil barrels were spent, and their ammunition was nearly gone.

"This isn't good," Tobias muttered as he examined the few remaining bullets they had left. "We're sitting ducks out here."

George gritted his teeth, glancing around the room. They were out of options, out of everything except a single can of gasoline they'd stashed in the basement, a tin of gunpowder, some fireworks wicks, and whatever else they could scrounge up.

Raven paced the floor, her frustration clear. "We can't just wait here for him to tear us apart. We need to use what we have. Anything."

George's gaze shifted toward the basement door. He didn't know what to do yet, but the pieces were slowly coming together in his head. The gasoline, the gunpowder, the wicks... they could make something. A bomb, maybe. It wouldn't be much, but it could slow Phrost down, buy them time to come up with something better.

"I've got an idea," George said suddenly, his voice steady. "It's not perfect, but it's all we've got. We're going to make an explosive."

Raven looked at him sharply, a flicker of hope mixed with doubt. "With what?"

"The gasoline canister in the basement," George said, motioning toward the door. "We can use it with the wicks from the fireworks and the gunpowder we found. If we rig it right, it might be enough to at least wound him."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "You think an improvised bomb is going to stop that thing?"

"It's not about stopping him," George replied, his voice resolute. "It's about buying us time. It's all we've got."

Tobias nodded in agreement, grabbing what remained of their gear. "Let's do it."

They scrambled to the basement, the air growing colder by the second as the storm's intensity seemed to double. The wind howled through the shattered windows, and the mansion groaned under the weight of the snow and ice accumulating on the roof. Time was running out.

In the dim light of the basement, George and Tobias worked quickly. They unscrewed the cap from the gasoline can, soaked the wicks in the fuel, and carefully mixed the gunpowder into the makeshift bomb. Their movements were frantic but focused.

"Got it," George said, tying the final wick into place. "We'll light this and throw it as close to him as we can. The gas and gunpowder should give us one hell of a bang."

Raven nodded, grabbing one of the remaining flammable sheets and preparing to use it as a decoy. "We'll have to distract him long enough to set this off."

They rushed back upstairs, each of them moving with a sense of urgency. Phrost was getting closer. His presence was a growing shadow on the horizon, and the temperature plummeted with every step he took toward the mansion.

As they reached the top floor, George could see Phrost looming in the distance, his glowing blue eyes cutting through the storm like twin beacons of death. His icy form was massive, and the storm seemed to bend to his will, swirling around him with unnatural force.

George clenched his jaw, gripping the lighter in his hand. "Raven, you're with me. Tobias, Lucy, take the other side. We'll light this thing and pray it slows him down."

The group split up, moving into position. George and Raven took cover by the broken window, while Tobias and Lucy readied themselves to throw the flammable sheets as a distraction. The mansion shuddered under the weight of the storm, but they had no other choice. This was it.

Phrost moved closer, his icy form towering over the mansion. His glowing eyes locked onto George as if he could sense the plan. The wind picked up, and with a single motion, Phrost sent a blast of freezing air toward the house, cracking the walls further and sending debris flying.

"Now!" George shouted.

Raven lit the wick, and George hurled the makeshift bomb through the broken window. It soared through the air, landing just a few feet from Phrost. For a brief second, everything seemed to freeze in time.

Then the explosion rocked the night.

The gasoline ignited, sending a fiery blast into the air. The shockwave knocked them all back, and the mansion groaned in protest as the fireball illuminated the sky. For a moment, it felt like they had done it, like they had finally hurt the beast.

But as the smoke cleared, George's heart sank.

Phrost stood there, unharmed. His icy body shimmered in the aftermath of the explosion, but the damage was minimal. The demon let out a low, rumbling laugh that echoed through the storm.

"Is that all?" Phrost taunted, his voice mocking. "Is that the best you can do?"

George's stomach twisted in despair. Their last plan had failed. They had nothing left. No ammo, no more firepower. They were finished.

"We're out of options," Lucy said, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's nothing more we can do."

The weight of her words crushed down on them all. For the first time since this nightmare began, George felt utterly hopeless. They had fought so hard, but it wasn't enough. Phrost was too powerful, and now they were trapped with no way out.

Just as George was about to speak, a series of loud gunshots rang out from behind them, followed by the unmistakable whoosh of Molotov cocktails igniting in the snow.

George's eyes widened in disbelief. "What the, ?"

Through the swirling snow, George could make out figures approaching from the valley. More survivors. At least a dozen of them, armed to the teeth. They were firing at Phrost, pelting him with bullets and Molotovs, driving him back step by step.

"They saw the explosion!" Raven shouted, hope flooding her voice. "They came to help!"

Phrost roared in anger as the flames licked at his icy form, the bullets tearing into him. Though the damage was still minimal, the sudden attack was enough to force him back. The demon turned his glowing eyes toward the new arrivals, clearly enraged.

"You dare challenge me?" Phrost bellowed, his voice filled with icy fury.

The survivors continued their assault, hurling Molotovs and emptying their guns into Phrost. The demon snarled, lifting his arm as if preparing to summon another blast of ice.

But instead, he paused. Slowly, a malicious grin spread across his face.

"If you wish to die so badly," Phrost said, his voice low and cold, "then I will grant your wish."

With a wave of his hand, Phrost summoned his army.

The ground shook as the snow around the mansion shifted. Dozens of ice zombies began to rise from the snow, their glowing blue eyes shining with malice. Alongside them, grotesque, blue-skinned creatures, gremians, emerged from the snowbanks, their small, twisted forms scuttling toward the mansion. And behind them, a group of sinister snowmen, their toothy grins twisted into horrifying sneers, marched forward.

The survivors faltered, their attacks slowing as they realized the magnitude of what they were now facing.

"Hold your ground!" George shouted, rallying the group. "We're not done yet! We fight together!"

The mansion groaned under the pressure of the storm, windows cracking further as the freezing air seeped in. George clenched his rifle, his knuckles white, knowing they were almost out of time and options. There were barely any bullets left, no oil barrels, and nothing to keep the icy army at bay. The weight of impending doom pressed down on him, but he wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.

"They're closing in!" Tobias shouted, his breath visible in the freezing air as he fired off another shot. His face was a mask of exhaustion, but his eyes remained sharp, scanning for weaknesses.

Phrost's army was relentless, ice zombies with glowing blue eyes stumbled forward in droves, their shrill cries sending chills down everyone's spine. The twisted gremians skittered through the snow, their blue skin almost invisible in the storm. And the horrifying snowmen marched on, grinning with those unnaturally sharp teeth.

"We need to hold them back!" George shouted, desperation rising in his voice as he scanned the room for anything, anything they could use.

"There's no more fuel!" Lucy called out, frantically looking around. "The gasoline's gone, and we're almost out of bullets!"

George's heart sank. This was it, they were backed into a corner. He glanced at Raven, who was gripping her katana tightly, her breath ragged but her gaze steady.

Raven's eyes flickered with determination. She grabbed a bottle of alcohol from the cabinet, an idea forming in her mind. "Then we use what we have."

George blinked, watching as she uncapped the bottle and poured the alcohol over her katana, the liquid dripping off the blade.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice catching in his throat.

Raven gave him a quick glance, her face serious. "If fire worked on them before, maybe it'll work now." She grabbed a match from her belt and struck it, lighting the blade on fire. The alcohol hissed as the flames spread across the metal, creating a burning edge.

Lucy's eyes lit up with a similar idea. "Hell yeah!" She ran over to a nearby piece of broken furniture, snapping off a long wooden leg from a chair. Grabbing another bottle of alcohol, she soaked the makeshift weapon in the liquid and tied a rag around it.

"I'll make a torch," Lucy grinned, lighting the rag with one of Marcy's remaining matches. The fire caught quickly, the makeshift torch flickering as Lucy twirled it confidently.

Marcy, Heather, and Madison followed suit, breaking off pieces of furniture and soaking them in alcohol. The flames flickered wildly as they prepared for the inevitable clash.

Tobias, the seasoned veteran, stepped forward. He fashioned a crude spear from another chair leg and soaked the tip in alcohol. His hands were steady as he lit the spear, the flame dancing at the end. Without hesitation, he hurled it toward one of the ice zombies advancing toward the house. The spear struck true, sinking into the creature's chest and setting it ablaze. The ice zombie shrieked in agony as it was consumed by fire.

George's mind raced as he realized what they were doing. Fire had worked against Phrost's minions before, and now they were using the last of their alcohol to turn their weapons into burning tools of destruction.

Raven's blazing katana hissed as the flames licked up its length. She gave George a fierce look. "We're not done yet. Let's take them out."

With renewed determination, George nodded. "Let's do it."

The group sprang into action, their improvised weapons glowing with fire as they charged toward the advancing horde. Raven led the charge, her katana cutting through the icy air as she sliced into the first ice zombie. The blade cleaved through its frozen flesh, the fire burning through the creature's body as it crumbled to ash.

Lucy wasn't far behind, her torch swinging through the air with wild abandon. She slammed the burning wood into a snowman, its icy grin melting away as the flames engulfed it. The creature shrieked as it dissolved into a puddle of water.

"Take that, you freak!" Lucy shouted, her adrenaline pumping as she swung again at another enemy.

Marcy, Heather, and Madison followed her lead, their makeshift torches lighting up the battlefield as they swung at the creatures surrounding them. The ice zombies recoiled from the flames, their cold, lifeless forms unable to withstand the heat. One by one, they fell, their glowing blue eyes dimming as they were reduced to nothing but melted snow and ice.

Tobias grabbed another piece of wood, lighting it with what little alcohol they had left, and hurled it toward a group of advancing gremians. The fire struck the creatures, causing them to scatter in panic, their shrill cries echoing through the storm as they burned.

The mansion was filled with the sounds of crackling fire and the high-pitched screeches of Phrost's minions as they were systematically taken down. But for every one they defeated, more seemed to rise from the snow, their glowing blue eyes filling the darkness.

George fought with everything he had, firing his remaining bullets at the creatures that got too close. But his gun was nearly empty, and he knew their chances were dwindling. Despite their fiery weapons, the storm was unrelenting, and Phrost's army continued to grow.

"We're running out of time!" Raven shouted as she cut through another ice zombie, her flaming katana flickering as the alcohol burned away.

Phrost watched from a distance, his icy form standing tall in the middle of the storm. His glowing blue eyes were fixed on the battle, and his cruel smile widened as he saw the group struggling.

"You think fire will save you?" Phrost's voice boomed across the battlefield, cold and mocking. "I control the cold, little humans. I am eternal. Your flames will die, just as you will."

George's heart pounded in his chest. They had given it everything they had, and it still wasn't enough. The fire wasn't strong enough to stop Phrost, and their numbers were dwindling fast.

Just as George's hope began to wane, a sudden burst of gunfire echoed from the valley below. George's head snapped up, and he saw, through the thick snow, a group of new figures charging up the hill toward the mansion. More survivors, armed with guns, Molotov cocktails, and whatever they could find.

"Reinforcements!" George shouted, his heart swelling with renewed hope. "They saw the fire and came to help!"

The new arrivals didn't hesitate, immediately joining the fight. Molotovs flew through the air, lighting up the night with explosions of fire as they hurled them into the horde. Bullets rang out, striking Phrost's minions with precision and force.

Phrost roared in anger, his icy form shimmering as the flames and bullets struck his army. His eyes blazed with fury, and he raised his arms toward the sky.

"You dare challenge me with more fire?" Phrost bellowed, his voice filled with icy rage. "You will burn in the cold!"

With a wave of his hand, Phrost summoned more of his minions. The snow around the mansion shifted, and dozens more ice zombies, gremians, and snowmen rose from the ground, their glowing blue eyes fixed on the group.

"We're not out of this yet," Tobias growled, grabbing another burning piece of wood. "Let's finish this."

George's heart raced as the battle intensified. They had more people now, but Phrost was summoning an endless army of icy creatures. The mansion was on the verge of collapse, and they were running out of time.

"Hold the line!" George shouted, rallying the survivors. "We're not going down without a fight!"

The storm howled, the wind carrying a biting chill that cut through everything. Phrost stood tall, his icy form towering above the battlefield. He raised his arms, a sinister grin spreading across his frozen face. His glowing blue eyes flickered with amusement as the survivors below scrambled to defend themselves.

George stood at the front of the group, his rifle nearly empty, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. Raven's flaming katana flickered in the cold air beside him, and Lucy, torch in hand, scanned the battlefield for an opening. Tobias, always the veteran fighter, gripped his last spear, its tip still alight with the last of their alcohol.

But the storm was growing worse. The ice zombies, gremians, and snowmen marched forward, their high-pitched shrieks echoing through the air. The sound was enough to make anyone's blood run cold, the kind of sound that clawed at your mind and made your heart race with panic.

"They just keep coming!" Lucy shouted, her voice shaking with frustration. "What the hell are we supposed to do?!"

Phrost laughed, the sound like a glacier cracking. "You're finished," he sneered. "This is where you die."

George's heart raced, his mind scrambling for a plan, anything that could get them out of this. They were running low on everything, bullets, fire, hope. His eyes darted to the mansion, their only refuge, still standing despite the relentless storm. It was damaged but not destroyed, its cracked windows and walls barely holding back the cold.

Phrost began to toy with them, his eyes locking onto the new group of survivors from the valley who had joined the fight. Two of them, a man and a woman, were fighting bravely, throwing Molotovs and firing their rifles into the horde. They didn't stand a chance.

With a wave of his hand, Phrost sent a beam of ice toward them. The cold was instantaneous, freezing them both in place before they could even scream. Their bodies stood motionless, encased in ice, their faces twisted in terror.

"No!" Raven screamed, her voice breaking as she saw them fall.

George's heart clenched in his chest, but there was nothing they could do. They were dropping like flies. Phrost wasn't just killing them, he was playing with them, savoring every moment.

As if to prove it, Phrost turned his attention to Madison, who was struggling to hold off an ice zombie with a torch. She was brave, but she was young and inexperienced, her movements panicked and wild.

Phrost's icy hand lifted once more, his cold smile widening. "You're next."

Before Madison could react, Phrost unleashed another beam of freezing magic, aimed directly at her. The cold mist swirled around her, and time seemed to slow as George realized what was about to happen.

"No!" George yelled, but he wasn't fast enough.

Tobias, however, was.

In a single, selfless act, Tobias hurled himself in front of Madison just as the beam reached her. The icy magic hit him full force, freezing him mid-leap. His body turned to solid ice in an instant, and he crashed to the ground, lifeless, his face frozen in a final act of bravery.

"Tobias!" Madison screamed, falling to her knees beside him, her eyes wide with shock and horror. Tears streamed down her face as she reached for him, but he was gone. The warmth of his life had been snuffed out in an instant.

The group was silent for a moment, the reality of Tobias's sacrifice settling over them like a heavy weight. The storm roared around them, but the loss hit them harder than any cold wind ever could.

"We... we can't win this," Lucy whispered, her voice filled with despair. She gripped her torch tightly, but the fire seemed so small, so insignificant compared to the vast, icy power of Phrost.

George felt his stomach churn with helplessness. He wanted to scream, to fight, to do something, but Phrost was too strong, too cold, too relentless. They had fought so hard, but now it felt like the end.

Phrost, ever the sadistic overlord, chuckled darkly. "Is this it?" he mocked. "Are these the heroes who thought they could challenge me?"

His glowing blue eyes shifted to Raven and Lucy, who still stood defiantly despite their fear. His grin widened, full of cruelty and delight. "You still stand? Even after all this?"

Raven narrowed her eyes, raising her flaming katana, though George could see the tremble in her hand. "We're not giving up," she spat, her voice filled with defiance. "You're a monster. And we'll take you down."

Phrost laughed again, the sound cutting through the storm like ice cracking on a frozen lake. "Brave words for a girl who's about to die."

He lifted his hand, and once more the cold mist swirled around him, gathering in his palm. The storm responded, the wind howling louder, the temperature dropping even further.

"I'll make it quick," Phrost taunted, his voice filled with sick glee. "Let's see how you handle freezing to death."

The icy beam shot forward, aimed directly at Raven and Lucy. George's heart seized in his chest. Time seemed to slow as the cold beam cut through the air, heading straight for them.

But something inside George snapped.

"No!" he roared, stepping in front of Raven and Lucy just as the beam reached them.

In that moment, George felt something deep within him stir. It was a fire, a rage, a desperate need to protect the people he loved. And suddenly, it wasn't just rage, it was heat. Actual, tangible heat.

Fire.

The sparks erupted from George's hands, small at first, but quickly growing into a torrent of flames. The fiery glow surrounded him, and the icy beam Phrost had unleashed met the fire head-on.

The ice sizzled and evaporated in an instant, unable to withstand the heat. George stood at the center of it all, his hands ablaze, his body radiating with the power he didn't know he had.

Phrost's smile faltered for the first time. His glowing eyes narrowed, confusion flickering across his frozen features. "What... what is this?"

George's heart pounded in his chest, his mind reeling from what was happening. But he didn't have time to process it. All he knew was that somehow, someway, he had just saved Raven and Lucy.

Phrost's confusion quickly turned to anger. His hands clenched into fists, his eyes glowing brighter. "You... dare defy me?!" he bellowed, his voice filled with fury. "You think a little fire can stop me?"

But George didn't back down. He held his ground, his fists still ablaze, and faced Phrost with a newfound determination. "You're not killing anyone else today."

Phrost let out a roar of rage, the storm around him growing even more violent, but George didn't flinch. For the first time, he felt like he could actually fight back. He didn't know how, but he would find a way to end this.