She leaned down and blew gently on the creature. Her breath felt cool on her hot skin and the moth fluttered once. Hope sparked inside her and she blew again. This time, a blast of cold blew past her, melting away the heat. An icy vortex formed in her hand, picking up the moth and sending it into the air. She held her breath, confused and frightened, but the moth started to fly on its own, fluttering gaily around her head.

Burning wind and the vortex of ice slammed into each other. Above her, black clouds oozed across the sky, reaching for the moon with burning fingers as a storm of moths burst out of the grill behind her. Their wings, tiny and delicate, flooded her with cool air as they

“No...” Sonja’s whisper slashed at her throat, as the feeling of something terrible pounded through the woods, each step just a foot or so closer to her. She could feel the heat reaching out for her heart, squeezing it with talons of fear. At the very edges of her vision, she saw the woods moving, as the underbrush was shoved powerfully aside.

Fear rose up into her, the fear and terror driving her to flee, to hide. Looking around, she measured the distance between her and the house. A tree snapped, crashing into another but never reaching the ground. Instead, something powerful lifted the base, the shattered end, and pushed it aside. She whimpered and stared pleadingly at the house, but the expanse of burning grass just stretched out even further, miles away despite the short distance.

Sonja whimpered and looked up at the bright light of her mother’s office. The light was dimmed, obscured by the black fingers that reached out to snuff the moon. She felt the wind melting the moths and wind, silencing out the insects brutally. She dug deep inside, trying to find the energy to call out, to call for her mother.

But no words came.

The iron door of the grill pressed against her back and Sonja let loose with a tiny shriek. In her fear, she managed to back against it. Shaking, she reached behind her, to the remains of the handle of the oven. In front of her, the powerful presence shoved aside another tree, uprooting a bush and tossing it aside.

Fear exploded inside her and Sonja spun around. Grabbing the shattered remains of the handle, she yanked it aside, throwing open the door. Inside the massive grill, the darkness greeted her with the smell of rust and soot. Fear behind her pushed any fear of the dark and she crawled inside, grabbing onto a rusted shelf and pulling herself in. Her shirt was ruined in an instant, smeared with black soot and rust. She managed to crawl completely inside in a few heartbeats.

The inside of the oven prickled her with the cold, but Sonja didn’t pause. She reached out and closed the door, sealing herself inside. Only a tiny slit exposed her to the outside, white frost dripping from the opening. Her breath was loud against the inside, reflecting off solid brick walls. She clamped one hand over her mouth, to keep herself silent as she grew accustomed to her surroundings.

Underneath, a thick metal grill held her up above where the coals and wood would be. Above her, a chimney stretched up, but she couldn’t see the moon through the darkness. To her surprise, the oven was large enough for her to stretch out in, almost six feet from side to side. It was also as wide as it was long, large enough for two, maybe three people to fit in. The thought of that scared her, but the sounds outside scared her even more.

Pounding of someone’s foot grew closer, crunching on dying moths and slashing through grass. She felt it in her heart, a present that beat against her soul with every step. Every step was loud, almost standing on the oven itself. The moon’s darkness started to fade, giving her a brief moment of light.

Then something stopped in front of the door. Sonja’s hand on her mouth tightened and she strained to hold her breath, fearful that they were going to look inside. For a long moment, only the pounding of her heart filled her hearing.

Then, the woman’s voice hissed out. “No, you can’t have the cow! I’ll be damned if you---”

There was a crack of flesh and then a thud noise.

The woman's voice halted instantly. Heat beat against the oven door, then faded with a popping noise. A moment later, cold air rushed through the cracks in the door, powerfully cold and leaving her breath fogging in the air.

To her surprise, a delicate smell of cologne filled the oven. It was a warm musky scent, and completely at odds with the terror that coursed through her body. For a brief moment, she wondered if horror movie monsters wore perfume, then a voice slashed through her thoughts, a just as warm and deep voice that echoed in the oven’s depths. “Don’t fear me, Sonja.”

She almost fainted at the sound of her name. Instead, she squeezed her hand on her mouth until she tasted blood on her lips. A flare of a match, a wooden match from the scent of sulfur, flared up outside. She automatically looked down, fearful that wood or coals were burning beneath her. Thankfully, the bottom of the oven was bare, empty. Only a few piles of ashes in one corner.

The match died outside, along with the scents of sulfur. Replacing it, mixing in with the cologne was the scent of wood, a familiar scent that teased her senses. She fearfully stared down again, praying that he would leave.

And he was gone. One moment, she could feel the icy presence right outside of the oven, and then nothing. A sliver of moonlight pierced the darkness of the oven, driving down from the chimney. She stared at it in surprise, the cool white light brilliant in the darkness. Warmth flushed through her as she trembled on the rusty black grill, huddling deep inside the massive dead oven.

Freedom beckoned from the oven door, the opening clear beyond. No shadow, no man, no evil presence. Just a frightened girl in an oven. She stared at it for a long moment before crawling up to the door. She stopped, with the thought of her looking out, then someone grabbing her, but she saw no one. Peering closer, she stared at the ground.

There was no ice, no burning wind. Just a playful breeze teasing at the grass. In the distance, a summer insect started to buzz. Then another, and another. Soon, the world was filled with the sounds of summer again, just as if nothing happened. Pulling her hand away from her mouth, she looked down at the shallow cut on her palm. Blood welled up from the cut and as she watched a single drop formed and splashed down.

It hit the grill and she felt vibrations ripple up her body. As she watched, the droplet oozed around the metal, then splashed down into the ashes below. She gasped, a sob swelling in her throat. Fear refused to dissipate, or even soften. Instead, it was a knife that cut against her throat, slashing open. Instead of her life blood, sobs came. Hard wracking tears that exploded in her chest with the force of tiny grenades. For a brief moment, she tried to resist them, but the overwhelming fear and terror washed over her. Unable to resist, she curled up into a tight ball, across the soot-covered grill, and let the tears take her.

Each cry echoed against the brick walls, reflecting back with bitter, mournful sounds. And Sonja could only tightened the arms around her bare legs and pull them closer.

She didn’t know when she stopped, or why. Instead, she sat up as soon as she had the energy, the ability to move on her own. Tears burned her faces, her lungs hurt, but she moved with a freedom that she never realized was gone. Her hand, trembling lightly from her trials, reached out for the door.

It swung open easily, the moonlight beyond blinding her for a moment. A moth, white wings fluttering, flew past, almost entering her prison, but veering off at the last moment. Gulping a deep breath, Sonja crawled out of the oven, standing on the warm earth with surprising strength.

Standing up straight, she peered into the woods. The broken tree still hung listlessly against another, a sagging drunk of nature. The uprooted bush hung from another tree, branches brown with frost poisoning. Her eyes trailed down, to the grass in front of her.

Footsteps imprinted in the blades, boot marks of the man who spoke to her. His voice haunted her, but the fear was in a different place, pushed back to a tiny part of her mind that she... didn’t have to think about. Sonja shook her head and stared down at the footsteps.

A breeze brushed through the strands of grass, shaking each blade. As she watched, the footsteps faded. The wind died down and the grass was normal, as if the man... creature... whatever was never there. The fear rose up again, but not with the bitter pain of before.

Sonja’s spine crawled as she walked, then ran, to the house. Her bare feet pounded on the warmed earth and grass. At the porch, they slapped hard against the rough wood and she took two steps at a time. Throwing herself into the kitchen, she closed and bolted the door before sprinting down the stairs, to her room. Ignore her soiled shirt, she crawled into her blankets and closed her eyes tightly, begging for sleep to take her.

It did, violently.

End of Chapter 2.