Amy woke up with a throbbing headache, shivering in the dirt. Everything felt numb. She scraped herself off the park bench table, rubbing the back of her head. It stung like hell. The necklace of the cross on her neck stuck to her skin. Catching her teeth mid-chatter, Amy began to question the cold. It was Summer in the Bay Area. While she may not have been American, she had been there long enough to know this was out of the ordinary. Climbing further out of the delirium, she began to wonder what had happened to her friends.

  Fran and Shelly had been close with Amy since orientation at UC Berkeley. Getting off the plane, she was initially nervous about making American friends. The girl came to learn through the Art Practice program for about a year before heading back home to China. Her English was not stellar, and she thought it might get in the way of her getting to know people. Neither Fran or Shelly cared. They were patient, friendly, and pretty funny the times Amy understood the joke. They stuck together through finals, break ups, and the demon scourge too.

  Memories returned to her in pieces, but still incomplete. Last night, The Convert’s message over the radio was clear, there were reports of a demon snooping around the area. Everyone needed to scatter and hope to survive. The three girls made a run from their hovel in the North Berkeley Bart Station with as much as they could carry. Their best bet was to try and make it to IKEAtown via the evacuation route going from Shattuck to Adeline, but that’s about where her recollection started to get fuzzy. It was hard to remember vivid details as soon as they began to round UC Berkeley. All she could recall was a chilled touch, and then she woke up in this forest.

  Amy’s nose started running, she placed her hands under her armpits for warmth. Moving hurt, but she needed to find them. She began to walk the trail nearby through the thicket of trees. It felt familiar. As she glanced about for signs of human life, she looked over through a thicket to see a chain link fence not too far off across from a frozen stream. A small office building waited for her on the other side. With care, she tiptoed over. It was important to her that she identified an escape route to take once she found her friends. Approaching the metal net, she became dismayed. A coating of ice formed around the links. She went to touch it, but the cold bit back at her skin. A mark throbbed on her skin from where she touched it directly. Amy grew in fear of the unholy ice. She clutched her cross necklace and backed away slowly. There was no way to climb it without facing certain death. Maybe there was another way out.

  Passing the winter creek again, Amy took a proper glance up the path before her. She could have sworn she saw a figure moving through, what she could only vaguely see, as frozen stalagmites. The girl opted to wade through the trees rather than up the path. While she hoped it was her friends, she couldn’t be too sure. She wanted to be safe. Great care was taken with each step, avoiding patches of frozen leaves and sticks as she went. So preoccupied with her feet, she nearly walked out into the open. In one quick leap, she went behind the closest redwood. Standing behind the tree, she mustered up the courage to take a quick peek out from her hiding spot. When she did take a glance out toward the outdoor amphitheater, her heart performed backflips. As she gazed into the stands, she wished she did try climbing the fence as hopeless as it seemed. They weren’t stalagmites. They were people, frozen solid.

  The gasp flew out of her mouth without her permission. In the same moment, she clasped her mouth between both of her hands. Amy cursed at herself quietly in her first language.

  “A-a-amy…?” A timid voice stammered from the amphitheater’s stands.

  “Shelly…?” Amy turned back towards the ice sculptures to see Shelly. Her friend looked haggard, her eyes were red from tears that could no longer flow. “A-are you okay? Is Fran t-there with you?” Her teeth chattered as she spoke.

  “Come out here, okay? We need to show you something.” Shelly’s words sounded hollow.

  “Okay.” Amy came out from behind her tree and walked out into the grove of redwoods. The seats of the amphitheater were adorned with frozen bodies albeit incomplete. There were various sections that laid bare. There looked to be a pattern that Amy couldn’t quite figure out, but there was some kind of logic. It reminded Amy of an art display. A grim recreation of one maybe.

  “Another friend?” A man with a tucked in button shirt and mildly ripped tie appeared from behind an ice statue. He wore a pair of glasses with a lens missing. Amy found him surprisingly well dressed for an apocalypse.

  “Amy…” Shelly started. “I wanted to get your opinion on one of these pieces.”

  “What are you saying?” Amy couldn’t quite figure out what she had meant right away. “Pieces of what?”

  “Art pieces. Please, take a good look, but uh, hurry…okay?” She pointed a blackened finger at a nearby statue.

  Amy approached the statue, the sight of it forced Amy to scream. Fran, immortalized, forever. She looked terrified. In her last moments, it appeared she was begging. As the scream began to pass her lips, the hand of the sharply dressed gentleman muffled the rest.

  “He doesn’t like screaming.” He said in a hushed monotone.

  “Professor, stop.” Shelly swiveled to face Amy directly. “Amy. Please. You need to listen to me, okay? He’s going to be back soon. He wants to know what we think of his work.”

  Amy’s eyes welled up with tears, the floodgates of sadness barely held together as she looked over Shelly’s shoulder to her late friend. Her head shook fast in contained, quiet, defiance.

  “Amy, we don’t have a choice. I don’t think you understand the situation here.” Shelly shook her surviving friend. “He wants to know what we think. He wants to know what we think!”

  “You’re scaring her.” The Professor said as he separated the two. “Are you experienced in offering constructive feedback?”

  “But these are, er, were people. This is not art.” Amy extended her hand to the grim gallery.

  The Professor cleared his throat. “For all of our sake, yes it is.”

  “He’s right.” Shelly nodded. “Just…when he comes back, be polite. Don’t freak out. That uh, that didn’t work for Fran.”

  “I think I understand you.” Amy wiped the hardening drips from her eye sockets. “Did he, er, tell you what he wanted us to…see?”

  “You mean in the ‘art’? No, he froze her then stormed off to his ‘workshop’. When he gets back he probably will do the same to us if we don’t tell him what he wants to hear.”

  “Okay, yes, I-I understand.” Amy replied with enthusiastic nods, hoping that she really did understand.

  Amy’s eyes narrowed, she began to analyze the ‘pieces’ before her. Amy’s stomach turned as she gazed upon the ghoulish statues of these poor souls' final moments. A time capsule of screaming horror no one should have ever had to experience. As she looked upon the faces of the frozen dead, Amy prayed for their souls to find peace. She also prayed to be free of this place. Looking momentarily toward the sky, she hoped that God would hear her words. Even if He had forsaken the human race for good, He would maybe listen to this last wish. One last prayer out of pity.

  The Professor sat down at one of the empty spaces in the gallery. He pressed his hands deep into his face. Shelly paced back and forth, but hardly took her eyes off of Fran. Amy continued to inspect the various horrified looking statues presented before her. She crossed her arms and produced a low “Hmm.”

  Stopping in her tracks, Shelly pivoted toward Amy. “Hmm?”

  “Yes. I am thinking.”

  “I don’t think you need to think too hard about it.” Shelly kicked away a nearby branch.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “We’ll just say what we need to and maybe we’ll all get to go home.” The Professor agreed.

  A deeper chill permeated the air. In the distance, the three captives witnessed the door to the office building burst open. Seeing this thing for the first time, Amy’s eyes widened as the tall, lanky creature pulled itself from the smaller door frame. Its body was completely sleek as if it buffed out any and all imperfections on its glass-like skin. It sauntered to the gate with long strides, unfreezing and refreezing the door with a touch as it moved into his territory. The temperature dropped rapidly as he approached. The wind howled in pain. It approached the three captives. The demon looked down at them with his polished, reflective face. Amy wondered how he could see without any visible facial features.

  "?? ???? ?????????? ???? ???????????????? ?????????????? ???????? ???? ????????????????????. ?? ?????? ?????????? ???? ?????????????? ?????? ???? ??????. ?????????? ?????? ?????? ???????? ?????????" His gaze fixed on Amy.

  Amy gulped, remembering to be as polite as she could. “Hello, yes. I woke up here.”

  "???? ????????????. ?????????????? ???? ???????????? ?????????? ???? ???? ???????????? ???????????" The demon walked directly to Fran. "?? ???????? ???? ???????? ?????? ?????? ???????? ???????? ?????? ?????? ???????? ???????? ???? ????. ???????? ???????????????? ???????????? ???? ???? ???????? ????????'?? ??????."

  All three humans remained silent.

  "?????? ?????? ???????????????? ???????????????????? ???? ???? ??????????????????? ????????????, ?????????? ????????????????."

  Shelly coughs. “Yes, yeah, uh…looking at the image of my dead friend left me without words.” The Professor knocked his elbow in hers with a force.

  "?????? ?????? ?????????????????? ???? ?????????" The ice demon prodded.

  “No, it’s just good. I like it.” Shelly lied.

  "???????? ?????????????? ????, ?????? ?? ???????? ?????????????? ???????? ???? ???? ???? ???????????????????? ???????? ?????????? ??????."

  “All of it.”

  "???? ?????? ?????????????????"

  “You did a really…really good job. It’s well designed. You clearly know a lot about what you’re doing.”

  "?????? ?????????? ???? ???????????????????"

  “Wish I could.” Shelly offered a nervous chuckle.

  "???? ?? ?????? ???????????? ??????. ???????? ?? ?????????????? ????????, ?? ???????????? ???? ?????????????? ?????? ??????????????'?? ??????????????????. ?????????? ?????? ?????? ???????? ?????????? ?????????????"

  “Yes! That’s what it is! I love the frigidity. I’ve never seen it done that way before now.”

  "?????? ????, ???? ??????? ?????????????? ?? ???????? ???????? ???????? ????."

  “You- what?”

  Lifting his hand, a geyser of frozen particles shot out from his fingertips. In an instant Shelly was coated in ice. It hardened around her body in just moments, encasing her final moments forever. A look of confusion plastered upon her face.

  “Shelly!” Amy screeched as she reached out to her, but before she could embrace her second departed friend, the demon stomped his foot on the ground.

  "???? ?????? ??????????."

  Amy covered her mouth as the tears ran down her face. It was the only way she could contain the wailings of despair. She felt a pair of hands gently drape her shoulders, pulling her away from Shelly’s statue. The Professor did not know Amy, but he held her close. “We have to pull ourselves together, Amy. Our friends may be statues, but we are alive. W-we can’t repeat their mistakes.” Amy sucked up her tears. The Professor was right. There would be time for this later, maybe. In her heart, she knew that to mourn them, she would need to live.

  Shelly’s feet left the ground as the ice demon lifted her into the air. He held her like a newborn. He walked to an empty seat in the amphitheater, placing the lifeless girl down with as much care as he was able. Using his hands, he framed his subject, ensuring he took several steps back. Amy noticed him marveling as his latest ‘creation’. He crossed his arms, nodding, though cocking his head as he took in his own work.

  “What is he doing?” The Professor was gobsmacked.

  “He does not know why he loves it.” Amy replied after rubbing her swollen eyes.

  “Are you saying you do?”

  “I think I do.” Amy said as she approached the demonic artist. “Uh, hello?” Her voice still quivered.

  "???????? ?????? ?????? ???????? ?????????????? ???????? ???? ????????????? ?????????? ???????? ??????????, ???????????"

  “I wanted to…ask what the theme of this…gallery is.” It felt grotesque for Amy to ask the question this way.

  The demon turned to her, going down on one knee to face Amy directly. "?? ???? ???????????????? ?????? ??????????. ?????????????? ?????? ?????? ??, ???????? ???????????? ???? ???????? ?????????? ?????? ????????, ??????????????????????????. ???? ?????????? ?? ???????????? ????????'?? ???????????? ???????? ???????? ?????????????? ?????? ???????????? ????????????. ?????????????? ???? ????, ?????? ???? ??????????????." He gestured wide to his gallery. "?????? ?????? ?????????? ????????????????????. ???????????????? ???????? ?????????????? ?? ?????????????????? ???? ???????? ?????????? ???? ??????????. ?? ?????????? ?????? ?????? ???????? ???? ?????? ?????????????? ???? ???? ???????? ?????? ???????????? ???????? ?????? ?????????????????? ?????? ?????? ????."

  At hearing this, Amy shook her head. “I understand. Then do you know that almost every one of your statues are too similar?”

  "??????????????."

  Amy walks over to the section containing Fran and several others. “Look it here.” She commanded the demon, “Do you not see that your subjects have been giving you the same face?”

  The glacial demon looked upon the screaming faces of his victims. "???? ?????????? ????."

  “I do think you are a talented artist-” Amy lied, she held back wanting to vomit as she said this right next to her dead friend. “But I think you are too comfortable. When I look at your statues, do you know what I see?”

  "???????? ???? ???????? ?????? ??????."

  “They are all the same to me.”

  "???????? ?????? ?????? ?????? ????????????. ???????? ???? ?????? ?????????? ?? ???? ?????????? ???????????"

  Amy rubbed her chin, “Do you take the time to know your model?”

  "???????? ?????? ???????? ???? ?????????????? ???????????????????????? ???????? ?? ??????????."

  “If you are to make a gallery of my people then you should know that we call ourselves human.”

  "???????"

  “I do not know exactly why we are called this-”

  "?????? ???????????? ?? ?????????? ?????????? ???? ???????????????"

  “Oh.” Amy sighed, embarrassed. “It sounds as if you walk up to a human and then freeze them. We see demons, we get scared because we are afraid we will die. That is why all your models are screaming.”

  "???????? ?????? ?????? ?????????" The frozen demon stood back to look at his work. He stood there frozen stiff for a minute. There was silence. The Amy as well as The Professor knew better than to interrupt the demon’s thought process. "?? ???? ????????????????. ?? ??????????????????. ?? ???? ?? ????????." It finally blubbered. The temperature drop was harsh enough to take the air out of the humans’ lungs.

  The Professor coughed, “Amy! He’ll kill us!”

  Thinking fast, Amy got in his face, her face reflected right back. “BUT I think, er, your last piece shows you coming out of your comfortable place.” Amy then approached Shelly. She had her arms spread out to frame his work for him.

  The demonic artist hung his head in shame. “"???????? ?????? ?? ????????????????? ???????? ?? ???????????????????? ????????????????." Ice shards formed on the ground, the world was dying beneath his feet, it began to spread further like a virus.

  “You liked her! You were a proud guy! And I think you know why!”

  "??????????, ?????? ???????????????????? ????????..."

  “Look at her stupid!” Amy grew frustrated in her desperation as she felt her shoes fusing to the ground. “She is not afraid!”

  The demon, Oloro, hearing this, awoke from his self loathing stupor. He raised his smooth head to Shelly. "???????" He at last saw what Amy was talking about. Shelly was not afraid of him at the time of her death. The three of them gazed upon the surprised look draped over Shelly’s face.

  "???? ???? ??????????????????. ?? ?????? ???????? ???? ?????????????? ?? ?????? ????????." Oloro stood up, and approached his favorite creation. "?? ?????????????????? ??????. ?????? ?????? ?????? ???????????? ?????? ??????. ???? ?????????? ??????-...???????????? ?????? ???? ???????? ???????? ???? ???????? ?? ?????????? ???????? ???????? ????????????????." The frozen Oloro marveled at Shelly’s statue. He stared, committing her look of confusion to memory.

  The Professor approached the two. “I-I was actually thinking the exact same thing! Think of all the amazing work you can do by getting to know your subjects!”

  “Professor.” Amy whispered. “Stop now.”

  “I think, my friend, with our advice, you’ll have a gallery people will remember forever. You should be proud! Now, say, what do you think of getting us past that gate and we can be on our merry way? Think of all the people who will come around when we tell them about this place!”

  "?????????? ????????. ?????? ?????? ?????? ???????? ???? ???? ???????? ?????? ?? ???????????? ???????????? ???????? ???? ????????????." Oloro stepped up to face The Professor, offering a shallow bow.

  “It is the least I can do.” The Professor replied, offering a shallow bow of his own. He rose up again with a smile on his face. He didn’t see the torrent of ice surrounding him before it was too late. A relieved expression immortalized forever on the statue of the sharply dressed professor. Amy wished she was surprised.

  "???????? ???????? ???????? ???? ???? ?????????? ?????? ???????????????????? ???????? ???????? ?????? ???????? ?????????????? ???????? ???????? ??????."

  “Why did you do that?!” Amy exploded.

  "?? ?????????????? ???? ?????????? ???????? ???????????? ???? ?? ?????????? ?? ?????? ???? ????????. ?????????? ?????? ???????? ?????????????????? ?? ?????????????????? ???? ?????? ???????????????"

  Amy opted not to respond.

  "?? ?????? ?????????????? ??????." Oloro grabbed his newest statue, placing it lovingly next to his previous piece. The artist nodded his head with quiet grace. When he was done, he began to walk toward the gate, "???????? ??????????, ??????????." Amy followed several steps behind.

  At the chain link door, Oloro absorbed the cold into himself. The blanket of ice covering it dissipated. The door swung open on its own. Freedom was in reach. "?????? ?????? ????. ?????????? ?????? ?????? ???????? ????????????????. ???? ?????? ?????????? ???? ???????? ???? ????????????."

  Amy stood there doe-like for a moment. She worried that Oloro would sucker punch her too. Praying one more time to God, she wordlessly made a break for the exit. She ran as fast as her frostbitten legs could take her. She thought of Fran and Shelly, she wished they were here with her. She thought of The Professor and wished he had not suffered along with her friends. As she ran back toward UC Berkeley, however, she mostly thought of God’s plan for her. Amy couldn’t believe the lengths she took to live, but she knew God gave her the tools she needed to survive. As she ran she just knew that their sacrifice would have meaning in the end. He would never allow evil like Oloro’s Gallery to prosper for long.