"I'm scared for my life. There's something right outside the door..."

I can't see it besides bits and pieces from different angles of windows, but no matter what it doesn't look like... anything. It's almost as if it changes whenever I look at it. It's just a glassy whisp with no color. I've seen a tail-shape and something that looks like maybe a hoof or fin. Fins! What could survive in this kind of cold that has fins? What has fins that can float in the air?!

And the wind has gotten stronger. It shakes the building, even though the Fort has never even creeked before. The windows are bowing and chattering like they're afraid of something. The floor is icy cold, but not like before. Before it was like a deep sunken cold, left being out in the cold for a while, but now it's like it just went cold. I can barely describe any of it to begin with, but now I'm having another attack.

The sounds are horrible. It's like the forrest all over agin, but now I can't run. Now I can't run anywhere, I can only stare at he thing on the steps and not know if I want it to leave when I blink because it could have left or phased through the dorr. I can barely write except for short bursts between looking at the thing.

Its gone. I had to move to eat and I came back when it was gone. Its night and I hear the wind picking up even more. It burst windows and put out any fire I tried to make, even in the oven. I tried burning a bonfire. I broke chairs and cupboards and made a torch that lasted long enough for me to throw it on the pile, but it didnt work. It just went out, as if it had been sucked into the air.

Its so cold. Im so tired. I cant keep my head up. I think Im trying but I dont know why. Why am I so

scared

The book is half empty. Pages and pages have been ripped out, leaving ripples of paper left in the spine. A small stack of pages have been spared the treatment and between some are loose scraps of parchment - notes, drawings, lists, and other odds and ends.

The hoof writing is curly, but through the small read, it grows hectic. Scrawled in a fever, letters bigger and sentences incoherent.

On the dark cover, fashioned from hide, is one word - "Winter".

These were the excerpts.

Author's Note

Had to wrap this up, but I'll probably make this into something with more content. Peace out girlscouts.