Thin Ice Novels & Stories

The Frozen Wastes extended out before Ethan and Selene, an perpetual land of ice and snow that appeared to swallow all light and warmth. The gnawing wind yelled through the fruitless scene, carrying with it a cold so strongly that it felt like it could solidify the soul itself. Each step they took crunched against the frozen ground, resounding through the endless vacancy.

There were grass all around and in the middle was a walkway made out of what seemed to be ice. He gazed at the iced path in awe. "Wow, is that real ice?" The King glanced at the walkway and nodded. "We have materials that stop the ice from melting. Besides, the North is a cold place. It keeps them in shape." "This is so amazing!" Prince Ron cooed. He ran to the walkway then looked at his beloved excitedly. "Can I walk on it?"

Something tells me, when the ice settles, nothing will be the same. A frozen statue of rage, carved from ice, stands before me fury made solid. Coach calls us off, signaling the Zamboni to smooth the rink into a perfect, frosted mirror. “Carter, take a break,” he says once the ice gleams untouched, like a frozen battlefield.

One warrior isn’t as lucky—a jagged spike rips through his arm, another through a leg, blood staining the pristine ice in crimson streaks. A thick, glass-like sheen coats my vision. My skin burns—not with heat, but with a frostbite so intense it feels like my veins are solidifying into shards of ice. Every fiber of my being pulses with raw, bleeding cold, the kind that doesn’t just freeze flesh—it kills.

I could feel it like a hand pressed between my shoulder blades. +++++ Practice started at six in the morning. The rink was already bright and hard and cold when we stepped onto the ice. Twenty two boys and me. Everyone's breath came out in white clouds. Skates scraped and cut as people warmed up and I pulled my helmet down low and let the cold settle into my skin.

“You don’t tremble like the others.” “Should I?” she whispered. “No.” His answer came too quickly. Too firm. He looked away, like he had revealed something he didn’t intend to. Then he handed her a small velvet box. Elara blinked. “What’s this?” “Open it.” Inside was a thin silver bracelet with a tiny flame symbol carved into it. “It’s a tracking cuff,” he said. “But it will never hurt you unless you break the rules.” Elara hesitated. “Does every slave get one?”

Chapter Seven: Cracks in the Ice Soren’s heart slammed against his ribs as he stared into JR’s intense gray eyes. The question hung between them like a live grenade. “Are you still fighting this… or are you ready to admit you want it to last?” Soren exhaled shakily and looked away. “I don’t know how to do this, JR. I’ve spent three years hating you, wanting to destroy you on the ice and now I’m…” He gestured helplessly between them. “Whatever the hell this is.”

A few minutes later>>>>>>>> I arrived at the avenue and was using my eyes to scan about her as I kept walking. I soon saw a figure I couldn't mistake from afar. It certainly was her. No other soul would wear a skirt that short. It literally revealed her butt cheeks. It was a uniform like style with a tight white crop-top shirt and a red and black flared checkered mini-skirt and not to mention long white socks and a pair of white sneakers. Ain't no way this girl wasn't a hoe, I concluded.

I strolled on this ice field like I was in my home. However, Efrain dislikes the extreme cold very much and naturally despises this place openly. He hurriedly entered my purple space. I couldn’t blame him. After all, this kind of cold was bone-chilling to the extreme, and only creatures with ice attributes and unique physiques could survive this extreme cold.

My fingers were so numb from the sub-zero air that I could barely register the bite of the sharp metal against my skin. With a ragged breath, I slammed the right spike into the face of the ice. A sharp, crystalline crack echoed through the silence, sending a shower of frozen shards cascading down into the black abyss below. I tested my weight, my boots slipping slightly before catching a narrow ledge of stone. The ice held. "One step," I whispered to myself. "Just focus on one step."