Frozen Fright Syndrome Novels & Stories

Past Annabelle closed her eyes tight, a knot twisting in her chest. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thicker, as if her fear had a physical presence beside them. Her heart picked up its pace, thudding a frantic rhythm against her ribcage. "I’m terrified I’ll destroy us," she breathed, barely audible. Heat flared behind her eyes, threatening tears that she stubbornly refused to shed, while a surge of adrenaline tingled at her fingertips. The admission felt like a weight pressing down on her chest, as if the world had constricted around this one fear.

Finn Reyes stood frozen in the center of the dark sleeping quarters, his internal wolf howling in absolute self-loathing. He was such a catastrophic bastard. Such a completely and utterly dysfunctional piece of trash that his own primal instincts demanded he execute a violent physical assault against his own chassis if the laws of nature permitted the maneuver.

Freya woke screaming. The sound tore violently through the chamber while her body jerked upright against tangled blankets, breath shaking hard enough to hurt her chest. For several terrifying seconds she could not separate memory from reality. Snow. Blood. Eros crying. Her own heartbeat stopping inside his arms. God. It felt real. Too real. Freya pressed trembling hands against her mouth as panic clawed through her body. Tears blurred her vision instantly while pieces of memory continued crashing violently inside her mind.

Slowly, they holstered their weapons and escorted the pair to the police station. It was there, at the forensic examination room, that I saw my body, which was broken beyond recognition. Or rather, my limbs. The prolonged freezing had left my body severely calcified. When the cleaner threw me out, my body repeatedly collided with the inside of the freezer, causing my limbs to break into multiple pieces. Because the freezer had lost power, my once-frozen corpse had already thawed, and the chunks of flesh were beginning to reek with a nauseating stench.

And very other place Lyris and Settyx— plants required for making the drug— grew in was the frost forest. However, no one was suicidal enough to approach the Frost forest, except for Clayton. The man found joy in testing his limits and killing off these beasts. In all actuality, only her brother was able to enter the forest and exit safely. It is said that more than ninety-nine percent of those who enter the frost forest never return, and even if the rest come back, majority of them receive immense blows, causing them to either to lose their sanity or be handicapped for the rest of their lives. In other words, they lose the ability to lead a normal life and in the end, turn to suicide.

he leaned, licking his lips. As I sat there, paralyzed with fear, a terrorising shiver sent icy ripples cascading down my spine, driving me deeper into a state of unease and apprehension. The sensation was so bone-chilling and suffocating that it seemed to penetrate every fiber of my being, causing my heart to race and my breath to become shallow. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to be on high alert, amplifying the chilling nature of the shiver as it coursed through me. Like an unwelcome intruder invading the very core of my existence, this shiver not only physically affected me, but it also unleashed an overwhelming wave of undeniable terror that threatened to consume my every thought a

Saph let out a breath and tucked her dirty blonde hair behind her ear before continuing. “It’s pain from the mate bond. Fated mate pains.” She said curtly. My eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What do you mean?!” Emmy asked. “I mean that these symptoms were often experienced by werewolves who had discovered they had a fated mate that cheated on them. Whether the mate bond was completed, or not, if one of werewolves was intimate with somebody other than their fated mate, the fated mate would feel it. Your wolf can sense the infidelity and it can feel like your heart is breaking. That would explain the enormous pain you feel in your chest. It also causes your wolf to feel unwanted because

It was his. I feel him. Not the fear—the freezing. The cold didn't just touch me; it colonized me. It was a structural frost that began in my spine and moved through my veins until the very blood in my body felt like it was turning into jagged ice-needles. My blood temperature plummeted so fast my fingertips went numb before I could breathe through it. He isn't afraid. He’s freezing. My left arm—the ruined, nerve-dead limb I’d traded for the Third Fragment—jerked violently. It shouldn't have moved. The nerves were gone.

Ewwww. A violent tremor ran through me, a bone-deep shiver that was part cold, part terror. My body was a coiled spring of tension, every muscle locked tight, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. Yet, through the shaking and the rigid stillness, a strange sense of shock had taken hold, a numb disconnect from the horror unfolding before me. I was a living paradox—quaking with fear, frozen in tension, and distant in a fog of disbelief as his tongue danced around my face.

I typed in Lunar Decay. Page after page of clinical studies, autopsy reports, and symptom trackers flooded my screen. I read them all. I read about the freezing paralysis. I read about the coughing fits that brought up black blood. I read about the agonizing muscle spasms and the final, brutal failure of the heart. I stared at the screen until the text blurred. Absolute, suffocating shock washed over me. I dropped my phone to my side. She has been carrying this alone.