Across the frozen lake they find an old farm house and a bare pumpkin

patch. The wind slinks through the field and broken bits of fence, tossing wisps of

dry snow that glide across the surface.

They stand on frozen mounds of earth, peering into the house. Its door

hangs on one hinge, slouching tired against the wall of the house and shaking in

the wind. Leviathan grabs at Ribbon's arm as he creeps towards the opening

shaking his head. Ribbon holds his hand urging him to come, and carefully they

step inside, the floor creaking loudly beneath them.

Shattered glass lines the sitting room, sparkling in the faint light. An empty

fireplace moans as wind eats it from inside. The house is back-split, the upstairs a

raised balcony overlooking the den. In the far corner the wall has collapsed,

taking some roof with it. Snow pours in through this opening, cleaving close to

the floor and along the furniture.

The door to the basement is in pieces, scattered about the frame in chunks.

Jagged splinters stick to the rusty hinges, bent and half removed from their place.

Ribbon steps towards this dark opening to peer into its depths, but Leviathan

grabs his arm and holds it tight, shaking his head.

They go upstairs, each step loudly sounding and sinking beneath their

weight. The remains of a table and chairs jut out from a blanket of snow,

figureheads of ships sunk in a frozen sea. A picture frame lays face down, its wire

snapped.

In the bedroom, the frame has long collapsed. A sagging mattress

slouches on the floor, a stained sheet draped over its abdomen. Beneath it

stretch long legs of bent wood. Spindly, arachnophobic.

The bedside table still stands on old legs, knees bent inward. On top of it a

flower rests inside a vase, its yellow petals crumbled around its head. They sniff at

it curious, the only colour in this place, tasting its newspaper leaves. Ribbon sets

on the bed to scrutinize, when suddenly Leviathan grabs his arm tense.

A loud crash sounds beneath them and their blood runs cold. They pause

there, still, with ears perked. A second crash sounds louder, shaking the

foundations of the house.

They drop the flower, running down the stairs. Cold wind gushes onto their

backs as they escape the house, paws quick as they can through the field and

snow and across ice.

They lock the door and shut the curtains, putting out the fire. Darkness

wraps them like a shawl, sitting on the couch knees drawn to chest watching

blackness where the door would be.

The faint glow of the sky creeps through the thin curtains, painting the

room with a soft pinkness. Their eyes adjust, shivering. Wind scrapes against their

home, the only sound outside. Ribbon peeks out the window and turns back

relieved.

Leviathan can't stop breathing, staring into darkness. Ribbon holds his paw,

shaking in his grasp. The land begins to tremble. Redness cloaks them, white to

pink and black to blood, shaking in his grasp. Leviathan can't stop breathing.

He closes his eyes, whispers electro-acoustic taking form behind his ears.

Darkness thick like sludge pours itself upon him, murky blackness and

muffled voice. He walks through hallways with scratch marks on their walls,

followed by this noise.

We open up upon a foyer, upstairs looking down. Partygoers cloud this

place, shadows taken form. They each wear masks of bright colours, teal and

pink and green, loud colours that light blue hallways. He turns and they are

behind him, clogging the hallway leaning against the wall sitting on the floor

clumping up in little groups and chattering with a sound like breaking glass and

static and crunching snow.

They drink champagne and throw their glasses about, laughing. He steps

bleedlessly over their shards, squeezing between them and stepping over them,

hurtling through these loud passages, black hands limply grabbing at his ankles

and his wrists, running until he finds an elevator.

He won't stop pressing the button, breathing deep as next to him two

figures make out, leaning on the wall, masks pressed and moulding together.

One rubs its ghostly fingers through the other's whispy hair. He won't stop

pressing the button, feeling them close in on him.

They traipse down the hallway, a parade of masks with limp wrists

drunkenly holding broken champagne glasses tripping over stumbling feet. They

grab at him with cold hands passing through him, fur on end.

He presses himself to the doors, pouring in when they slide open behind

him. Covering his eyes alone, breathing crying silently into his paws. His heart

quivers in his chest and blackness overtakes him, deep inside, viscera sinking.

Heaving. The elevator doesn't move, suspended safe around him. He

pushes himself into the corner, so nothing could behind him. Heaving. His heart

slows and frayed nerves let him slouch, panting, tired.

A shadowy hand oozes from his chest, an arm, a shoulder and a painted

mask. It stands up, stretches out in the cramped space and reaches back into

Leviathan's chest to help a friend outside. They pile within this tight space,

swarming over him.

They take no shape, squished together so tightly they slosh like liquid.

Leviathan sits at the bottom of a dark sea with so many of them whispering in his

ears. They cloud his vision with fluorescent blues and pinks and white.

Heaving. He cries in this lonely place, sounds of waves about him. Black

stones sinking silently, setting in plumes of sand. They suffocate him, black fingers

wrapped around his neck, so many faces in his.

Warmth holds his paw and he awakens, still shaking, staggered breaths

that plume in this cold house. He stands on trembling limbs, leaning on a pink

shoulder.

He veers, feet over another, pulling their held hands taut before finding

balance and holding his light head. The wind scrapes against their house and he

snaps alert, as if pulled backwards. Ribbon holds his arm, rubbing gently.

Tears streak in Leviathan's fur, trembling. Voices nip into the nape of his

neck with little teeth. Ribbon holds him, heaving, paws creeping from his arm to

about his chest, drawing him closer. He shakes and Ribbon helps him walk,

leading him to bed.

They lay down together, shh. Held close they share warmth, Ribbon petting

gently at Leviathan's ears.

Heaving. They close in on each other, Leviathan with his face hidden into

Ribbon's chest, arms beneath his, sniffing back tears as shaking fades like

echoing, a paw stroking gently the back of his head.

A light kiss on his forehead, blushing hidden, squeezed in arms until purring

overtakes him, cleaving upward drowsily as paws touch on his shoulder blades, a

paw to Ribbon's chest, smiling and dozing and a gentle kiss returned.

They explore each other in sleep, hands holding tightly as little love nips dot

shoulders and ears, lazily enjoying the other's company. Eyes heavy and closed,

kisses to cheeks and warm shared breaths.

Blackness fades to memory enveloped in each other, held tight with cats

breath breezes and long purring sighs. They slip into sleep exhausted, fingers

twitching, keeping each other safe.