Pale as the snow beneath them, trembling far more intensely than Jonathan could even imagine, and huge as the ever rising fear within his throat, Jonathan gazes up at the fair monster, choking on his shock and sheer surprise. It's lean body hovers over him like the eiffel tower, long curling fingers outstretched as though ready to make for the kill. It's nails are sharp and dagger-like, and Jonathon is sure that it's ready to tear through his flesh until his guts spill out like the one time that Lenny spilled soda all over his carpet. Worst of all was that face - that plutonian face - that he'd never forget. It looks as though its face is melted; piles upon piles of dripping skin, dragging down as though gravity was it's enemy,

as though it was too weak to hold itself up. When Jonathan glances into it's eyes, his whole body shaking, he notices the icy blue of it's eyes, how they pierce right through him and rest watching the depths of his innermost horrors.
He wants to scream but he can't even make a sound.
He wants to run but his feet are cemented to the floor.
He wants to do something, anything, but what? He can't even breathe; the icy wind of the night stole his breath away, and it was coming closer, closer, closer...
Jonathan composes himself quickly, wishes for a different reality running abundantly within the cracks of his thought.
"Who are you?" he eventually manages, goosebumps invading his skin.
"You," it replies. "I am a part of you."