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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2207154-Legend-in-the-Snow
Rated: E · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2207154
The real story of Frosty
Legend in the Snow

Frosty, the snow man stood high on the hill, looking down over the village. On this first day of December, he was tall and proud in his newly shaped body made of snow. Karen, his friend, had packed the glistening flakes together perfectly. He felt like a brand new man with his button nose and his eyes made of coal. He could almost smell the burning aroma of a zesty tobacco in the corncob pipe she had placed in his mouth. She had wrapped a black tweed scarf around his neck and fashioned the finest twigs for his arms. There was only one detail that Karen had forgotten, the hat. Without the magic in that old silk hat, Frosty was left to watch from the top of the hill, all of the others get to laugh and dance.

"Oh, Frosty, I am so sorry. I promise I will bring it right back. I know just where it is," Karen cried.

"Don't be sad, Karen. I love my new body. I can wait. You just be careful going home to get it!"

"I love you. Frosty. I'll be right back! Stay right where you are. I'm sorry..... you know what I mean. Just be happy until I get back."

"I'll be jolly. All snowmen are jolly and I have this wonderful new body to enjoy, thanks to you."

Karen hugged her friend and slid down the hill on her way to find the magic.

Frosty pretended to puff on his pipe as he watched the scene below. There were ice-skaters, gracefully drifting to and fro, on the frozen pond below. He thought to himself that he might like to try that when he had a little magic. Frosty watched the shoppers hurry by and wished he could go buy Karen's Christmas present. He watched with fascination as people loaded their cars with packages. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw a Christmas tree fall off the roof of station wagon as it pulled away. Bobbing his pipe to the beat of the cheery Christmas music piped through the speakers of the picturesque town, he could almost feel the magic calling him. It was going to be a happy and jolly winter, of that he was sure.

"Oh look, here comes Mrs. Dunbar's dog. And such a handsome lad he is! I wonder if he will remember me," Frosty said to himself.

The golden Lab trotted happily up the hill making snowballs with his snout. He played and frolicked in the white snowy powder, as all dogs do. When the pup approached the top of the hill, he warily eyed the snowman. He neared the strange man with caution, sniffing in his general direction. Plodding his way through the snow, slowly he stalked the man, ready to run away if needed. He eyed the perfectly bowed twigs that stood as the snowman's arms. This retriever had high hopes of grabbing the prize and becoming the envy of every dog in the neighborhood. The frisky dog leaped through the air, and in one swift motion pulled the snowman's arm from his socket. Frosty winced from the pain.

"Fido, please, why would you hurt me? It's your old friend Frosty," the snowman cried in anguish, as the dog chomped down on the limb in his mouth.

Hearing the voice of the stranger, Fido dropped the stick and began to growl at him. Frosty became very afraid when he noticed the raised fur on the beast and the snarled teeth aimed at him. If only he had magic, the jolly soul could run away. The dog flew through the air once again, pulling at the scarf wrapped around the snowman's neck. The mongrel pulled so hard that he knocked Frosty's head right off of his shoulders. It rolled just a few feet down the hill with the dog following after it. He sniffed at the eyes made of coal and chewed on the corncob pipe. Then, as all dogs will do, he lifted his leg and relieved himself, leaving his bright yellow mark on the top of old Frosty's head. The retriever retrieved his stick and scurried away down the hill. Left to fend for himself was the decapitated snowman, high on a hill and a peed upon face just a few feet away.

"Karen, I could use a little magic here!" he called.

With his one good eye made of coal left in his head, Frosty spied a group of kids running up the hill towards him. He found his jolly mood ,watching as they played and ran. Under their arms, they carried brightly colored sleds. Once the children reached the summit, they formed a line. Frosty giggled at the spirited snowball fights of the children. They reminded him of his sweet Karen and he longed for her return. From his spot in the snow, he could see the lip of a blue toboggan perched on the hill. The kids waiting their turn to slide down the hill began to climb on the headless body of the snowman. Frosty could feel each foot grinding into his rib-cage as they clamored up his trunk. He could feel the agony as they stuffed their toes into his belly. He wept when the buttons of his imaginary waistcoat fell to the ground and his remaining arm snapped like the twig that it was. But it was the sight of the sled, aimed at his head, that filled his heart with dread. Unable to move, because of that lack of magic thing, he could only hope for a sudden change in trajectory. He closed his coal (eye) and prayed for the best. The sled swooshed by him at a frightening speed. If the snowman had any arms left, he would have swiped the sweat from his brow at such a close call.

"KAREN," he yelled to the air.

The children all turned to the head made of snow, screaming into the wind. Such a sight to behold was this talking snowball that the kids all gathered around. They waited for more words to pour from the snow. They kicked at the snow around his head compelling Frosty to speak.

"Hey, don't hurt me! I'm a jolly snowman in need of magic."

"Whoa, did you hear that?" one little boy said.

One rough and tumble child stepped forward, poking Frosty in the eye with his finger.

"Ow, stop it! How would you like me to do that to you?" screamed the snowman.

The children all jumped back, away from the angry snowman, in fear, except for the rough and tumble boy in the red stocking cap. The child stood his ground against the white flaky threat.

"I'm Steve. What kind of magic are you looking for?"

Frosty suddenly perked up in his spot and said, "Any magic that can put me together again. Do you happen to have a magic hat made of silk?"

"Naw, all I got is this stocking cap but it's got some black magic inside, if you want it? Just might help," Steve said, as he bent down and placed it on Frosty's head.

And a new day began for Frosty, as a swirl of black smoke descended from the sky, reconnecting the body, head, and soul of the snowman. He wasn't his usual jolly self, but instead felt quite menacing. Frosty sensed the evil black magic stirring in his heart. It was a new and powerful sensation, and he didn't object. The hunger for revenge nipped at his nose. He ripped the newly formed arm out of its socket and stabbed at the children nearby, He bludgeoned them all with his new found weapon. He clawed out their eyes with the tip of his twig. One by one, they were left bloodied and lifeless. He rolled away the corpses on the sleds that they brought. He picked up his arm and stuck it back where it belonged.

Frosty laughed and he danced, as went in search of a certain dog that he knew. Feeling evil but jolly, he thought to himself, that today might be quite fun. He rolled over and crushed all the shoppers he'd seen. He chopped off the heads of the skaters that pranced. He ripped down the speakers that sang cheery tunes. His mind became filled with thoughts of torturous deeds to perpetrate upon the canine when he was found. Frosty's heart had become as black as the coal in his eyes. The snowman even began to plot against the forgetful Karen. It was, after all, the girl's fault the snowman was forced into this predicament.

Irony or maybe poetic justice would soon befall the legendary snowman. For out of the sky came the most unexpected of visitors. Time is a question mark for all of earth's travelers, including lovable or not so lovable snowmen. The grim reaper, alias the sun, quite suddenly called Frosty by name. He puddled and pooled and melted to goo. He once was alive as he could be, but now he was just water for all to see.


Word Count 1511


























© Copyright 2019 L.A. Grawitch (lgrawitch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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