Epilogue 134 - Under'easter

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...Previously...



A cold wind blew from the portal that led to the human world. Wispy white piles lined the wooded path in Underborough's outskirts. As she stood before the doorway, a single snowflake landed on Winifred Pale's cheek, melting even on her cold, vampiric skin. Once she crossed the threshold into Angela Morgan's backyard, she was greeted by a frigid gust of wind. The flakes that were gently drifting into Underborough were a downright assault in the small town of Pendleton. Winifred had first set foot here on Halloween night to conquer the humans. Now, blanketed in white, it was unrecognizable. Snow covered the doors and windows of many of the houses, including the two-story ones. It stuck to the trunks of the trees. Icicles hung from the autumn leaves like fruit.

As Winifred trudged through the knee-deep snow, she noticed a lone figure in a fur-lined dress. She was twirling about, waving an icy sceptre. Her long, white braid swung around, revealing the face of...

"Angela?!" Winifred exclaimed. "Is this your doing?"

Angela stopped her dance and planted her sceptre into a snowdrift. It wasn't particularly deep due to the wind, but it stood firm and upright nonetheless.

"Oh, Winifred," Angela started in a tone too sophisticated to be faked. "Isn't the snow lovely?"

Winifred squinted to see if there was anything she was missing. She did happen to notice the way that the snow oddly revolved around Angela's sceptre. "It's certainly... white."

"I'm so glad winter has finally come, even if it took a little convincing."

Winifred was clutching her clothes close to her in hopes of eliminating any space for the cold to get in. If she was honest, and she was usually brutally so, she would have to say that she much preferred Underborough's perpetually autumnal climate. Her wool cape was the warmest article of clothing she owned, and it was proving to be no match for this sudden change in weather. She glanced at Angela's bare yet unaffected arms and shivered.

"Angela, where is everyone?" Winifred knew that this was a silly question. No one should be out in a storm like this, herself included. But even for Angela's quiet neighborhood, it was eerily desolate.

Angela thought for a moment, and stared up into the falling snow. She didn't seem confused, but wanted clarification. "Who do you mean?"

Winifred was aghast. "Everyone! The humans I turned into monsters! My subjects!"

Angela lowered her gaze toward Winifred, her white lashes accentuating the chillingly serious look in her eyes. "Your subjects? Look around you, Winifred. This is my domain."

Winifred attempted a derisive laugh of disbelief, but its effect was lost in her chattering teeth. "Angela, let's discuss this inside, like two civilized world leaders."

"I have business out here," Angela answered coldly.

Winifred's patience was growing thinner than her ill-suited fabrics. "Can you at least do something so I don't have to suffer this dreadful cold, then? It doesn't seem to bother you any!"

"As you wish," Angela answered. She lifted her sceptre in the air as more and more snow gathered around it, forming a twisting line. It darted towards Winifred like a white serpent, weaving between her limbs and her torso. It reared back, striking her in the heart. The snowflakes blowing into her face were no longer melting; they were being absorbed. Winifred's already pale flesh was turning a pure white, followed by her hair. Her chattering teeth made a distinct clinking sound as they began turning into icicles. Her blood red brooch turned a cool blue, as its smooth, round jewel became jagged with uneven facets. Her clothes flaked off, joining the falling snow and revealing a body made of ice. Her toes, which had been bothering her, now seemed to have disappeared entirely. Her legs tapered off into icy points, but they were neither brittle nor unwieldy. They allowed her to stand in the snow as easily as Angela's sceptre. Winifred absent-mindedly scraped her shiny, translucent fingers together, fixating on the almost musical tone that they made.

"The snow is lovely, isn't it?" Angela asked, looking skyward once again.

Winifred stood still, hands at her sides.

"Right, of course," Angela whispered to herself. "You may address your princess."

"Indeed, Your Highness," Winifred answered stiffly but agreeably. "Winter is beautiful."