A Winter’s Black Snow

Prompt 25 — Continue the Story

This prompt will be similar to the first one that began it all. Here is an opening to a story and your task is to continue it in anyway you see fit. The primary rules here are to focus on the main character and continue to reveal more about him through the setting while maintaining the theme of the story. It’s best to read it a few times and gather clues about the character to then expand upon them. You can introduce new characters or elements to the story, but the purpose is to develop/reveal the primary character. Also, let’s not get too lengthy here. A decisive ending is optional. Try to keep it under 1000 words.

“Winter’s a bitch!” He thinks to himself as he slams the heavy door to his old Chevelle. Small bits of rust once again fall and collect in the hard-to-reach cavity in the door. The sound is like bits of grain landing aimlessly in a metal sink. What a failure of a car. It takes a few rotations to get the motor started. But it starts.

Drafts of ice-cold wind gather sludge around the aged Goodyear tires and the bite of winter slips between cracks to find him shivering in the front seat. The only thing warm about him is the lit cigarette between his lips and the fallen ash that spiral down to his thigh. He doesn’t inhale. It’s the light forming at the tip and the silken smoke stretching upward like a burnt offering that he cherishes most. Finally, he puts it in drive.

Down the black-soot road he drives, pressing firmly on the worn gas pedal. He drives in silence and stares blankly at the curvature of the road ahead, never glancing aside at the heavy pines filling the edges with perilous doom. He just stares and drives. Stares and drives.

Trees passed by in a dark blur of evening. The sun disappeared beyond the horizon in his rear view mirror. The rumble of the engine punctured the silence of a cold, dead road. Hypnotized by the infinite dotted line on the highway, he fell into introspection.

A wind picked up and he could feel the car swerve against its push. A hiss slid through the gap in the door window. It seemed from far away a ringing began in his ears.

Darkness fell on the last stretch of road behind him. But was there light ahead? In fact, the entire horizon seemed to glow a red orange even as the sun expired. The trees appearing pitch black against the glow, they clawed the fearful sky.

A black snow began to fall.

He pulled over and stopped the car. Opening the door expecting the cold air to flood in, he was slapped by a monstrous breath of heat.

A low rumble seemed to rise. The glowing sky grew bright directly ahead, and stretched up to reflect off the clouds. The light wavered and danced a sick ballet with the black haze. It was terrible and alluring. The approaching flames were calling to him and ensnaring him in a trance.

To drive into the night would be death. To turn around would be to chase the fleeing sun.